A new home for Solo by Sarah Francis (affordable ebook reader TXT) 📕

Chapter One

"Will I always live here with you, Mum?" asked Solo.
His mother looked down at him. He was a plump little pony with dark, dreamy eyes.
“Not always, no,” she answered. “When you are older, you’ll begin a new life somewhere else.”
Solo didn’t like the sound of this. He wanted to stay in the quiet meadow. He loved his mum and his friend, Willow the old racehorse, who shared the meadow with them. When Willow was younger she had galloped with other horses down a long track to the winning post.
“There’s nothing quite like racing,” she had told Solo. “The feel of the wind rushing through your mane, the thundering of the other horses’ hooves as you overtake them, and the cheers from the crown as you win. I’ve been in the newspapers, you know. I was famous once.”
Even now Willow could run really fast.
“Wow!” called Solo, his eyes shining as the big horse thundered round the field. “What a speed. I wish I could run like you!”
He tried sometimes, but he could never catch up with her
“I want to be racehorse when I grow up,” Solo told his mum.
“Don’t be daft,” Mum snorted. “Racehorses are tall and long-legged. Your legs are too short. You’re a pony, not a horse.”
“A race pony, then?”
“Willow has filled your head with nonsense,” said Mum. “You’ll be going to a nice home with a little boy or girl to ride you.”
“No races?” “Perhaps a gymkhana. That’s a pony competition. Trotting in line, jumping fences, that sort of thing.”
It sounded a bit boring to Solo.
“Race you!” he called out to Willow who was grazing nearby.
“Not now, little pony,” sighed Willow. “I need my afternoon rest.”
In the early spring, a leather halter was put around Solo’s head , and a nasty metal bit placed in his mouth.
“I don’t like it, Mum,” he complained, tossing his head and trying to spit the bit out.
“Be patient,” said his mum. “You’ll get used to it. All ponies and horses do.”
“Did Willow?” “Yes, Of course she did. Racehorses have very strict training.”
Next, a saddle was placed over Solo’s back, along with a girth, wrapped around his tummy to keep the saddle in place. Two leather straps with metal stirrups on the end hung down on either side.
It wasn’t long before Solo was “broken in”. This meant the farmer thought he was ready to be ridden. But when the farmer’s daughter, Becky, climbed into the saddle, Solo neighed with shock and tried to throw her off.
"Steady, Solo," said Mum. “You must learn to take a rider. It’s what ponies do – and racehorses."

Solo soon learned that if he did as he was told, the farmer would reward him with sugar lumps and pieces of crunchy carrot. Gradually, he became used to Becky riding him round the meadow. He began to enjoy it.
Then one day, when Willow was galloping by on her morning exercise, Solo tried to race along beside her with Becky on his back. Willow outpaced him, and Solo gathered speed. “I will be a race pony,” he panted. “Just you see!”
“Whoa!” shouted Becky, pulling at Solo’s reins. “Slow down.”
“Ouch!” went Solo, as the bit dug into his mouth.
He reared up, Becky hung on tight.
“Naughty pony,” she scolded. “Don’t you ever do that again”
And for a while Solo didn’t. He hated the feel of that iron bit.

Publication Date: 09-18-2010

All Rights Reserved