Jasmine's First Horse Show (Pony Tails Book 13)

by Bonnie Bryant

  Jasmine looked at Outlaw, who was yawning again. “He seems to be handling it pretty well,” she said.

  Just to make sure, the three girls gave Outlaw a super-special Pony Tail grooming, and then they did the same for Macaroni and Samurai. Afterward they went to Jasmine’s house to check the cookie jar. Sure enough, it was crammed with peanut butter cookies. The Pony Tails filled a plate with cookies and poured themselves glasses of cold milk. They carried them upstairs to Jasmine’s room.

  “Back to normal,” said Jasmine, flopping down on the bed. “I could use some peace and quiet.”

  “Peace and quiet? No way,” said May. “My Pony Tail instincts tell me there’s a new adventure coming on.”

  JASMINE’S TIPS ON DRESSING FOR A HORSE SHOW

  There are two things you’ve really got to know before you enter a horse show. The first is absolutely everything there is to know about horses, and the second is absolutely everything there is to know about riders. Well, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but if you do know all those things, it’ll definitely be helpful.

  That’s the way Max put it to us. I know he was joking, but it was a useful joke because there are always two sides to riding—the pony side and the rider side. Everybody knows that the pony has to be perfectly groomed before he can enter a show, so it’s only logical that the rider has to be groomed, too. And there’s a lot more to that than taking a bath and brushing your hair.

  I love dressing up; I’ve always loved it. I love dressing my dolls, and I’ve had fun making costumes and special tack for my model horses. So it’s no wonder I had fun dressing up for my horse show. Max told us at Horse Wise that there’s a reason for everything we wear when we ride, and the reasons are always comfort, safety, and tradition. Personally, I think the tradition part was stuck in there to be the answer when comfort and safety don’t apply, but that’s okay. Tradition is fun.

  You start with clean, comfortable underwear and socks. If you’re going to look at ease while you’re in the saddle, you’d better not have anything that itches, scratches, or bunches up underneath—anywhere, if you know what I mean.

  Next come the pants. All riding pants should be snug so they won’t wrinkle. That’s not for looks, though. That’s for comfort. In fact, it’s so important for riding pants to be smooth that you’ll notice there’s no seam inside where your legs grip your pony. When I ride, I wear jodhpurs and short black boots called jodhpur boots. I also wear garters and pants clips so the jodhpurs won’t wrinkle and rub at my knees. When I grow bigger, I’ll wear breeches and high boots that come up to my knees. For now, my feet and I are growing at such a rapid rate that it doesn’t make sense to buy tall, expensive boots. Jodhpurs come in a lot of different colors, but for a formal show, they should be white, yellow, or tan. That’s because of tradition. Mine are tan. I like that because they’re less likely to show a smudge of dirt than white or yellow ones. That’s for common sense.

  Then comes a shirt. For a show, you have to wear a long-sleeved white cotton shirt. It’s a special shirt with a neckband collar so you can also wear a stock. A stock is a white tie, a little bit like an ascot. It matches the shirt, and it’s held in place with a gold safety pin through the knot. Most of the reason for the shirt is tradition.

  Another thing that’s traditional is the riding coat. That’s the jacket that goes over the shirt. For a show, it has to be a solid color—black, navy blue, or dark gray. You’ve probably seen people wearing bright red jackets, but those aren’t for shows. Those are for hunting. If it’s really, really hot outside, sometimes the judges will say that young riders don’t have to wear jackets, but you’re going to have to have one most of the time.

  You can wear gloves if you want to. I like to wear them sometimes. If it’s cold outside, they keep my hands warm, but that’s not really what they’re for. They help you grip the reins securely, so they’re for safety.

  Once the rest of me is ready, I work on my head. First of all, I have to do my hair. The last thing a rider wants is to have her hair fall in her face or get in the way. A girl’s hair can be braided, put in a ponytail, or made into a bun. After that, it goes in a hairnet. That makes me feel like a cafeteria lady, but the advantage riders have over cafeteria ladies is that we get to wear riding hats, and they cover everything. Thankfully, Max didn’t make us wear nets at the Pine Hollow Show!

  A riding hat is the biggest single safety item any rider wears. It has to be a black velvet, hard hunt cap that’s ASTM/SEI certified. Those initials stand for American Society for Testing and Materials/Safety Equipment Institute (I had to look that up). It’s easy to remember that riding is fun, but it’s important to remember that it can be dangerous. A good hat that fits snugly and is securely fastened under your chin is the first step in safe riding.

  That’s all the stuff you should wear, but there are a couple of things you can’t wear. Don’t bother with any jewelry, barrettes, or ribbons. Forget about dangles, bangles, rings, and pins. The only pieces of jewelry you’re allowed to wear are your stock pin and a Pony Club pin (on your hat or collar). This is no time to wear perfume or cologne, either. It can annoy other riders, and it may irritate your pony.

  And then there’s one thing you should always wear, for safety, comfort, and tradition—your smile.

  Good luck!

  Turn the page to continue reading from the Pony Tails series

  1 Mayday!

  “I love the smell of autumn,” announced May Grover. She had just walked out the back door of Jasmine James’s house. May stopped and took a deep sniff.

  Jasmine and Corey were right behind May. They bumped into her. May was usually ahead of the other two because she was always in a hurry to get where they were going. Now, though, they all stopped and admired the morning. The sky was a brilliant blue, the leaves were turning yellow and gold and red, and best of all, it was a Saturday—no school.

  “I know what you mean,” agreed Corey. “Autumn smells like burning leaves, and wood smoke, and—”

  “Apples! Autumn smells like apples!” interrupted May. Interrupting people was another habit of hers, but Corey and Jasmine were used to it. They were all best friends—and they knew May didn’t mean to be rude. She was such a quick thinker, sometimes she couldn’t wait to blurt out her ideas. That was what made her so much fun to be with, and what sometimes got her in trouble, too. Now her thoughts had jumped from autumn to apples!

  “I love apples in the fall. They get redder, juicier, and sweeter,” continued May. “I love eating them for snacks, and your mom, Jasmine, makes the best apple pie in the world.”

  Jasmine nodded proudly. Her mother was an artist. She was also an artist at baking. May and Corey often said that her mother’s cookies were the best they’d ever tasted.

  In the past week, Mrs. James had spent more time worrying than baking. Jasmine’s baby sister, Sophie, was sick with a bad cold. Mr. and Mrs. James had even taken her to the hospital because they were concerned about her coughing. Now Sophie was better, and she and Mrs. James were sleeping. Jasmine’s father, an ecologist, was working in his study. The whole house was quiet.

  May and Corey had stopped by to pick up Jasmine on the way to Corey’s stable. As they started walking over to Corey’s house, May suddenly noticed something. “Oops, we left the back door open,” she said. “I’ll get it!”

  May ran back and grabbed the doorknob. Unfortunately, she forgot about Jasmine’s mother and sister. She swung the door shut with a loud slam. Immediately they all heard a terrible wail and then loud crying coming from upstairs. Sophie was awake—and that meant Mrs. James was awake, too.

  “Oh no,” said Jasmine softly. “Mom and Sophie haven’t been sleeping very well lately.”

  “Jazz, I’m really sorry,” began May. Before she could say anything else, the back door swung open. Mrs. James stood there, her hands on her hips, looking at the girls. The expression on her face made May’s heart sink.

  “Mom, is Sophie okay?” asked Jasmine
anxiously.

  “Your father is trying to get her to sleep again,” said Mrs. James. Then she shook her head tiredly. “Girls, how could you? You know Sophie’s been sick all week. She needs her rest. I need my rest. Your father finally got a quiet moment to think and do some work. You can’t just slam through a house like a tornado! You’re old enough to behave more responsibly than that!”

  All three friends were silent at first. Neither Jasmine nor Corey wanted to tell Mrs. James that May had slammed the door. They knew that May hadn’t meant to wake up Sophie and Mrs. James. They also knew that May, once she had made a mistake, would always be brave enough to admit it. That was one of the things they liked best about her.

  Sure enough, May stepped forward.

  “Mrs. J., I slammed the door shut, and I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I forgot about you and Sophie. Maybe,” she added eagerly, “I can make up for it. I could make you a cup of tea, or wash your car, or wash your windows, or something …”

  Even though May was in trouble, Corey and Jasmine almost giggled. They couldn’t picture May washing all the Jameses’ windows!

  Mrs. James did not seem to think it was funny. She just looked at May, then sighed. “Just please be quiet when Sophie’s sleeping, May,” she said. She turned and walked back into the house.

  The three girls were quiet. Corey and Jasmine didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

  Then Jasmine turned to May. “She’s really worried about Sophie,” she said reassuringly. “You know Mom thinks you and Corey are the greatest.”

  May nodded, but she didn’t smile back. Jasmine was right—normally, Mrs. James thought the world of the Pony Tails. Today she wasn’t very happy with them.

  The three girls called themselves the Pony Tails, because they were best friends and they loved ponies. They lived next door to each other, each of them had her own pony, and they all took riding lessons at the same stable, Pine Hollow. They also belonged to the same Pony Club—called Horse Wise because all the members wanted to learn as much as possible about horses and ponies.

  On Saturdays, the girls usually had Horse Wise meetings. Mounted meetings meant they brought their own ponies from home. On weekdays, the girls’ parents were too busy to bring their ponies, so the Pony Tails rode the ponies at Pine Hollow. At mounted meetings they practiced their riding skills. At unmounted meetings they learned all about taking care of their ponies.

  This Saturday, though, Pine Hollow was closed. Max Regnery, the owner of the stable and the riding instructor for Horse Wise, had gone away on a trip to buy more horses and ponies.

  The Pony Tails were disappointed about not going to Pine Hollow today. But they knew they could still have fun together. They knew they could do lots of things—ride their ponies, talk about ponies, or plan activities.

  Most of the time, the three girls made a great combination. May was a daredevil with crazy, fun ideas. Jasmine was always doing nice things for people and was patient with everyone. Corey’s even temper and sense of humor kept everything in balance. The incident with Mrs. James, though, had darkened their moods considerably.

  Corey poked May in the arm. “Come on,” she said. “I wanted you and Jasmine to see this puppy that’s staying at our barn. It’s a really neat dog—I think you’ll like it.”

  Then May smiled. The three started walking toward Corey’s house, which stood between May’s and Jasmine’s homes. Corey and Jasmine didn’t say anything else, but they both hoped that the day would get better for May.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t.

  2 May’s Day Gets Worse

  The Pony Tails walked behind Corey’s house, toward the big barn. Corey’s mom was a veterinarian and was called Doc Tock—short for Dr. Takamura. May and Jasmine thought Corey’s mom had one of the greatest jobs in the world. They could always find interesting animals in the Takamuras’ barn.

  First the Pony Tails said hello to Corey’s pony, Samurai. Corey had named him for the white mark on his face, shaped like a samurai sword. When May and Jasmine had first met Corey, Samurai had been a very young pony, with a mind of his own that made him misbehave. He still had an independent spirit, but under Corey’s patient guidance, he was getting better trained every day.

  Corey took May and Jasmine to the back of the barn, where she often exercised Samurai in the big paddock attached to the barn. In a little fenced-off pen, they saw a small, slender puppy. He looked a bit like a fawn, with large, soft eyes and long, thin legs. His ears were much smaller than a fawn’s, though, and were folded back against his head. He was mostly pale gray, with a little bit of black around his ears.

  “Ooooh,” said May. Her face, which had been glum, immediately brightened. She climbed over the fence into the pen and knelt beside the dog. “What kind of a dog is this? He’s so skinny! Does he eat enough?”

  “It’s a greyhound puppy,” explained Corey. “His official name is Quicksilver, but we just call him Silver. He was supposed to go straight to CARL right after he got his shots, but he’s so cute, I asked Mom if he could stay here a couple of extra days. Then he’ll be put up for adoption at the shelter.

  “And yes, he eats plenty!” she added with a laugh. “All greyhounds are skinny.”

  Corey, May, and Jasmine all knew that CARL—the County Animal Rescue League—would find a good home for Silver. CARL was committed to finding people who could adopt pets and really take care of them. The Pony Tails had helped Horse Wise raise money for CARL by riding their ponies in a horse show.

  “I don’t know if he’s cute, exactly,” said Jasmine. She reached down and touched Silver’s head. His fur was so short and smooth that it hardly felt like fur at all.

  The dog shivered a little but looked up at Jasmine trustingly. “He’s so thin, and he has such long legs,” observed Jasmine. “He looks kind of royal, doesn’t he? Like a Thoroughbred horse.”

  “Thoroughbreds are racing horses, Jasmine!” laughed May. “Silver’s legs look too skinny to even hold him up!”

  “You wouldn’t believe how fast greyhounds are,” said a voice behind them. The three girls turned and saw Doc Tock smiling at them. She strolled over to the pen and bent down to pet Silver. “These dogs are sprinters—they can run short distances at incredible speeds. In fact,” she added sadly, “its speed can be a greyhound’s biggest problem.”

  “What do you mean, Mom?” asked Corey.

  “Greyhound racing is a big business in some parts of the country,” answered Doc Tock. “They run so quickly, some people think it’s exciting to go to dog races and bet on which one will win. Most greyhounds, though, can only race at the top of their speed for about two or three years. They’re just like racehorses—most horses only race about three or four years before they’re retired. But greyhound owners don’t bother to keep the dogs once they’re older and aren’t able to run as fast. They just … put them to sleep.”

  Corey, Jasmine, and May looked at Doc Tock in horror. The three girls didn’t just love ponies—they loved all animals. This was one of the most awful things they had ever heard!

  “Just because they can’t run as fast as they used to?” May cried in disbelief. She put an arm protectively around Silver.

  Doc Tock nodded. “In fact, most greyhounds are bred for racing only,” she said. “If the puppies aren’t quick enough, some of them get destroyed shortly after birth.”

  Seeing how upset the girls were, Doc Tock tried to reassure them. “Lots of people are trying to solve this problem,” she said. “National organizations like the Greyhound Protection League are fighting to save these animals from being destroyed. They also try to outlaw greyhound racing, because then people won’t have a reason to breed so many dogs.

  “Also,” she added, smiling down at Silver, “these organizations help find good homes for puppies like Silver or for dogs that have been retired from racing. Even though there are more dogs than available homes, every dog saved makes a difference. Greyhounds make good pets. They tend to be high-strung, but they’
re very gentle and intelligent.”

  Corey, May, and Jasmine all nodded. They knew that being “high-strung” was not necessarily bad. It just meant that the dogs might sometimes be nervous or sensitive. Horses and ponies were sometimes described as high-strung, too.

  “I’m glad you’re being adopted as a puppy,” May said to Silver. He looked up at her and cuddled against her side. “Maybe I’ll adopt a grown-up greyhound when I’m grown up,” she added.

  “They’re really amazing dogs,” said Doc Tock. “For example, they’re visual hunters—which means that once they spot something moving, they chase it! They’re so fast, they’re gone just like that!”

  Just then everyone heard a whinny from the barn. Corey laughed. “I think Sam wants us to visit him,” she said. “And I think he wants me to bring him some hay!”

  “I’ll help you,” said Jasmine.

  “I’m going to stay here,” said May. “I want to play some more with Silver.”

  Corey and Jasmine went inside the barn. Doc Tock went back to her office. With fewer people around, Silver became much livelier and playfully started chasing May around the pen. May began to understand how fast greyhounds could be. Silver was wearing her out—fast!

  “Whew!” she finally puffed. “That’s enough for me, Silver!”

  As May lifted the latch of the pen’s gate, she didn’t notice that Silver was right behind her. She didn’t notice, in fact, until he wriggled past her legs, ran through the gate, and dashed under the fence of the paddock!

  “Oh no!” wailed May. She ran after Silver as fast as she could. She could still see him. He had stopped just at the edge of the field behind the Takamuras’ paddock.

  As May came closer, she saw Silver tilt his head. He seemed to be looking at something. When she got closer, she saw what it was—a little rabbit, about fifteen feet away from Silver.

  Doc Tock’s words flashed through May’s mind: “Once they spot something moving, they chase it!” Sure enough, Silver darted after the rabbit, which ran across the field. Within a few seconds, Silver was out of sight in the woods beyond the field.