Imprint Information
First published in 2015
by Blackstaff Press
4D Weavers Court
Linfield Road
Belfast BT12 5GH
With the assistance of The Arts Council of Northern Ireland
© Text, Pauline Burgess, 2015
© Illustrations, Karen Harbinson, 2015
All rights reserved
Cover design by Anne Glenn Design
Cover and internal photographs by www.prime-photography.com
Pauline Burgess has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act to be identified as the author of this work.
Produced by Blackstaff Press
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from
the British Library
EPUB ISBN 978-0-85640-951-6
MOBI ISBN 978-0-85640-952-3
www.blackstaffpress.com
www.ponyfriendsforever.com
Introduction
Welcome back to the Pony Palace and the third book in the Pony Friends Forever series. The books are inspired by a very special place – Lessans’ Riding Stables near Saintfield, County Down, where my daughter Emma learned to ride. Though the people in my stories are fictional, all the horses and ponies in this series are real and have lived in the stables at one time or another.
In Pony Party you’ll meet Gizmo, Daisy and Tonto, who have entertained us with their mischief and frolics over the years. I hope you enjoy reading their tales of fun, friendship and pony parties. Maybe you’ll even find your new PFFs – Pony Friends Forever!
Pauline
Pony Friends Forever
Meet all the ponies and find out more about the Pony Friends Forever series at
www.ponyfriendsforever.com
Dedication
For Darcey, Tara and Emma
(the three musketeers)
Pony Friends Forever
The Pony Palace
Chapter One
Ah, I love strolling through the countryside! No ‘change the rein at H’ or ‘jump those poles’ – just breathing fresh air, swishing my merry little tail and going with the flow. Springtime hacks are my favourite part of living at the Pony Palace.
Of course the Pony Palace is just a riding school in County Down, not a real palace, but that’s what we call it, and when some of the ponies around here act like precious princesses the name kind of makes sense. I am, of course, referring to Miss Daisy, who is prancing along in front of me like the flower queen she thinks she is. She’s everybody’s favourite pony (or so she keeps telling me), whereas I’m what they call a bit of a plodder. It’s not that I’m slow; I just like taking my own sweet time.
Our owner, Kate, calls me a daydreamer because most of the time I’m off in my own little Gizmo-world. I like to imagine that I’m living on the open plains of America, with the wind in my mane and not a care in the world. Kate lived in America for a while before she took over the Pony Palace, and I just love the sound of the place.
‘Come on, boy. Walk on,’ says Claire, who ends up riding me most of the time because she always arrives late and the ‘popular’ ponies are already taken by then.
‘Really, Gizmo, if you were any slower you’d be going backwards,’ she grumbles.
‘Chillax, little girl,’ I whinny. ‘Why don’t you take it easy and stop to smell the roses?’ Well, daffodils in our case – that’s what Kate calls the pretty yellow flowers growing along the lane.
Of course, Claire doesn’t understand a word of my snorting, but I give my head a shake to try to make my point. Hurry, hurry, hurry, worry, worry, worry – that’s all this little girl ever seems to do. She jumps out of her mum’s car each week as if she’s running to catch a train, then huffs and puffs as she grabs my tack and tells me off for making her late for the lesson! Maybe if she got here on time she could relax and actually enjoy the ride. But what do I know? I’m just a lazy old horse who likes to take things one day at a time.
‘Come on, Gizmo, we’re way behind the others!’ Claire shouts.
‘So what?’ I think. ‘We’re not in the Grand National!’ But Claire’s life is one big race, so I reluctantly push myself into a trot and catch up with Daisy and Tonto. Claire is gripping my sides so tightly with her legs that I feel like I’m wearing a girdle instead of a girth!
‘This is supposed to be a hack,’ I neigh. Definition of hack – riding a horse gently for light exercise.
‘Are you okay at the back there, Claire?’ Kate asks.
‘Gizmo’s just so stubborn, Kate,’ she says. ‘He won’t budge. Please can I have a different pony next week?’
‘He’s not stubborn, he’s just laid-back. Maybe you need to give him a bit more attention? Pat him, stroke him, let him know that you’re his friend,’ Kate says thoughtfully. ‘Ponies need to know that you like them, and Gizmo’s a sweetheart once he comes out of his dilly daydreams.’
‘But I get bored with just walking around,’ says Claire. ‘I want to go faster! I’d love to be good enough to move up to the next class.’
Kate shakes her head, and I can’t help thinking that Claire needs to take some time out of Go, Go, Go and try Slow, Slow, Slow! I’m going to have to teach her a thing or two about living life in the here and now. After all, today is a gift – that’s why it’s called the present!
Chapter Two
That Gizmo is such a slowcoach. I had rather hoped we’d be riding together today, but, as usual, he’s at least eight imaginary ponies behind me, and his poor rider is squeezing and kicking with all her might and he’s still as slow as a snail. I, on the other hand, always do Exactly As I Am Told. Ask me to walk – I’ll walk. Ask me to trot – I’ll trot. Ask me to canter – well, you get the picture. Gizmo and Tonto call me a goody-goody, but what’s so wrong with being well behaved? That’s why Hannah picks me every week.
I’ve been at the Pony Palace for years and I’ve always been popular with the kids, but Hannah is my extra-special rider. She’s seven-and-a-half and she’s kind and funny and always brings me Polo mints. She wears the cutest riding hat you’ve ever seen – it’s got lots of pretty stickers on it and letters stuck together that spell ‘I love Daisy.’ Not that I can read – I may be smart, but I’m not a genius.
‘Good girl, Daisy,’ Hannah says, and she reaches forward to give me a hug just before we join the Monlough Road. Her gran, Mrs Palmer, is walking alongside us on the hack – she says it’s good exercise, but I think she just likes to keep a close eye on Hannah.
Hannah’s mum works very hard and is always really busy, so Hannah spends a lot of time with her gran instead. Mrs Palmer says Hannah is the ‘apple of her eye’ – whatever that means. All I know is that apples are the yummiest treat ever, so I guess humans love them just as much as ponies do.
My ears prick up as I hear a car approaching. Hannah pulls in tight to the side of the road behind the other riders, the car passes wide and slow, and Hannah and the others nod or wave to say thank you. Kate always says how important it is to respect other road users and to thank them when they show consideration.
Hannah is wearing a bright yellow vest so she’s easily spotted, but the countryside is so full of yellow right now she might as well be in camouflage: there are yellow blossoms on the gorse, yellow dandelions scattered through the fields and Kate’s favourite – yellow daffodils. I’m lucky to live in a place like this, because I know there are horses out there who are not so well looked after and who don’t live in such a beautiful place.
‘Oh, I’m nearly out of puff,’ Mrs Palmer is saying. ‘Maybe I should have just stayed in the Nosebag Café and had a wee cuppa.’
‘Are you okay, Gran?’ Hannah asks.
‘Of course I am, lovey. I’m just not getting
any younger,’ she chuckles.
A few of the other parents have come out for the hack too, but they’re all much younger than Hannah’s gran. Her face is the colour of a ripe tomato with all this walking.
‘Would you like me to walk you back, Mrs Palmer?’ Mark asks. Mark is one of the older kids who helps out on Saturdays. He wants to run his own stables some day, so this is part of his training. ‘Hannah will be fine on her own,’ he says. ‘Kate’s at the front and there are plenty of volunteers around keeping an eye on the riders.’
Hannah’s gran agrees and Mark checks that we’re okay to ride along without them. He flashes a big white smile at Hannah and she giggles. I’ve heard some of the girls saying they’ve got something called a crush on Mark, whatever that means. He’s such a nice lad, I hope they’re not going to crush him to pieces! I can feel Hannah turning round to speak to Claire, who’s finally getting closer to us.
‘He is so cool!’ Claire says, and Hannah just giggles some more. I give Gizmo a look to say ‘giggling schoolgirls – what are they like?’ but the dozy gelding just rolls his eyes and gazes into the distance. Back to his dilly daydreams!
Chapter Three
Honestly, how do these humans expect us to trot along beside verges of juicy grass and not put our heads down for a bite? I am going to have this picnic whether my rider likes it or not. After all, they don’t call me Tearaway Tonto for nothing!
My rider is shouting something in a language I don’t understand. He tugs at my reins to tell me to lift my head, but this grass is as sweet as honey and way too delicious to ignore. Besides, I’ve never seen this boy before, and I don’t behave for strangers. So I help myself, and it is yummy in my tummy.
Ouch! Kate yanks my head up and scolds me, then tells me to get a move on.
‘He’s just trying you out, Oskar,’ she says to my rider. ‘Don’t let him away with it – show him who’s boss.’
Well there’s no mistaking who’s boss around here, is there? Miss Kate Cooper, that’s who! I decide to behave and trot along, but there had better be tasty hay in my stable when I get back …
Gizmo is walking ahead of me now, staring into goodness-knows-where while Daisy ogles him like he’s a silver stallion. What does she see in him? Their riders are whispering and giggling like mad, but the boy on my back is silent. I think he must be new here. I give my head a shake to get his attention, but he thinks I’m being naughty again and tugs harder at my reins.
‘Behave yourself!’ he says, or at least that’s what I think he says – he doesn’t seem to be speaking the same language as the other kids. I sense that he’s a bit nervous, so I decide to do as he asks and behave myself. We’re off the road now, so Kate rides alongside us. We’ve done a kind of horseshoe-shaped hack and now we’re heading back to the arena.
‘That’s right, Oskar. You have to be in control, otherwise Tonto will be in control of you. Is this your first hack?’
‘Yes,’ he answers shyly, and I can understand him this time, though he still sounds a bit funny. ‘I did a little bit of riding in Poland, but I have wanted to take lessons since I came to Northern Ireland. My father rode a lot back home. I really want to be as good as him, but I don’t think I ever will be.’ He sounds really disappointed.
‘Never compare yourself to someone else, Oskar. You have a nice seat, so that’s a good start, and you have a good sense of balance. Just take it one day at a time and be yourself. You’ll soon improve.’
Good old Kate! She’s always giving advice to the riders. It’s like she’s everyone’s mum, and even though she doesn’t have any children of her own, if you count all the riders that come to the Pony Palace every week, that’s a lot of kids to be a stand-in mum to!
‘How long have you lived in Belfast, Oskar?’ she asks.
‘Just a few months,’ he answers. ‘I like it here – except for the rain. It’s always raining!’
Well that’s just not true – the sun is shining right now, and the fields are bathed in a lovely golden glow. But he’s right, of course, rain is a regular visitor to these parts, and thank goodness for that. Where would the tasty, green grass be without it?
‘It will be my birthday soon,’ Oskar tells Kate. ‘I would love to have a party, but I don’t have many friends here.’
Kate puts her hand on his shoulder and smiles. She leads us along the final part of the lane and from here I can see Kate’s house and the rest of the farm. The tack room is just to the right and the stables and arenas are up ahead. It must be the last ride of the day, because Kate is telling all the riders to un-tack when they reach the yard and hand their ponies over to the volunteers. We must be going back up to the fields instead of the stables, which can only mean one thing: grass, grass and more grass. My tummy is rumbling already! When we get back the other riders are all chatting and laughing together, but Oskar just dismounts and walks away with his head down. I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.
Chapter Four
Why does Daisy keep staring at me? I’m trying to imagine myself strolling through golden cornfields with the sun on my back, but she keeps distracting me with her big, brown eyes. Mark has got us all tacked up for a lesson in the indoor arena, and as he leads us out of the stable I can feel Princess Daisy watching me. Have I got flies on my tail or something?
I line up with eight other ponies in the arena and of course I’m the only one missing a rider. Then Claire runs in, pulling on her riding hat, late as usual. She mounts me without even checking my girth and gets a bit of a ticking-off from Kate.
‘You know it’s important to check your pony’s girth, Claire,’ she says. ‘If it’s not tight enough the whole saddle could swivel round, leaving you on the ground and me with an injured rider!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Claire mumbles. ‘I was just in such a hurry …’
Mark comes over and tightens it for her. ‘It’s okay, Kate, I should have checked it for her anyway,’ he says.
Claire thanks him, and I’m sure I detect a hint of adoration in her voice. Mark checks that everyone else is good to go and then Kate begins the lesson.
‘We’re going to start with some balance exercises, then do some work on your steering,’ she tells us. ‘Claire, you lead the ride, please. Oskar to follow.’
One by one we all go large around the arena. The riders practise riding with one hand on the reins and one hand stretched out and moving in a circular motion. They practise with stirrups and without stirrups, then reach backwards to pat our docks and forwards to pat between our ears. Then Kate tells us all to do a figure of eight to check the riders’ steering.
‘Claire, tighten your reins, please,’ she calls out. Claire is muttering something about being bored and wanting to go faster. I wish I could tell her to just relax a bit and enjoy the ride – it’s so much more fun that way!
Kate tells us all to move forward into trot and that’s when Claire seems happiest. She wants to learn to canter soon and I’m sure she’ll love that, but I wish she’d realise how important the basics are too.
When we’re finished and heading out of the arena Kate comes over to talk to Claire.
‘You did well, Claire, but you need to give yourself more time before the lesson to prepare your pony properly. Why don’t you try to get here twenty minutes early next week? That way you’ll feel more relaxed and there’ll be less rushing around at the last minute.’
Claire is standing beside me, holding my reins and staring at her feet. She looks a bit embarrassed.‘I know, I’m always in a rush. I just can’t seem to arrive anywhere on time,’ she mumbles.
‘Your dad usually drops you off here, doesn’t he?’ Kate asks. ‘How about I explain to him that it would be really good if you could arrive early for your lesson? I’ve even got a pony alarm clock I could lend you until you get into the habit of waking up on time.’
‘That would be great!’ Claire replies, blushing. ‘And if I do get here on time, can we start cantering in the fields and doing cross-countr
y and things like that?’
‘No, Claire!’ Kate shakes her head. ‘You’re a good rider but you’re nowhere near ready for cross-country. Gizmo is actually a really good pony for you – he’s so calm that it kind of balances things out. Now, how about I treat you to a nice cold drink and we’ll chat properly.’
Kate has worked her magic again. She’s the best riding instructor ever, even if she does seem a little stern sometimes. Claire ties me up beside Daisy and heads off to the Nosebag. I hear Mark telling her that he’ll help her tack up and get ready for the next few lessons and her face bursts into the biggest, widest smile. And now I have a delicious half-hour of daydreaming ahead of me. Bliss. The sun is shining over the Pony Palace, and I’m imagining myself out on those wide-open American prairies, ambling along and singing a song, when I feel something tickling my neck …
‘What are you doing Daisy?’ I whinny. She moves her head closer to mine, and – OMG – she’s nuzzling me! ‘Get off, girl,’ I’m tempted to say, but I don’t want to be rude. And she does have those lovely brown eyes …
Chapter Five
I wish Gizmo would look at me instead of staring into space all the time! I try nuzzling up to him, but he just backs off a bit and goes back to his dilly daydreams. Geldings can be so dim-witted sometimes!
Pony Party Page 1