For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [15]
'I'm sorry, little one. We just have to get used to each other,' she said. She pulled up near the fence while she waited for Erin and Bandit to finish a round.
Shelby missed Blue terribly. Every time Brat skipped a beat she thought, Blue wouldn't have done that, but she had decided not to think about it. She was going to put it out of her mind for the next twelve days and twenty-two hours. She only hoped that he was safe, wherever he was.
After a few hours of fierce concentration Shelby was tired. 'I might take her home and give her a bath,' she said.
'Cool,' said Erin. 'I'm very proud of you, Shel, and jealous too! Brat is a beautiful horse. I think you've really progressed.'
Shelby thought that was a bit patronising coming from someone who'd only been riding for a year. Besides, she was exactly the same rider that she'd been the day before.
Shelby arrived back at the paddock midafternoon. The sun was hot on her shoulders and the air was dry. As she unsaddled the pony she could see that the saddle blanket was absolutely filthy – coated with brown grime. She laid it across the sliprail to take home for her mother to wash.
'You certainly do need a bath,' she said.
Brat was not happy to see the hose. She skipped around, rising up on her back legs and straining against the lead. Once she was wet through, Shelby started to scrub with shampoo. As she worked her way across Brat's shoulder she could see the suds on her fingers were a dirty, muddy colour.
'You mustn't have been washed in a year!' Shelby said.
Brat's face was worst of all. Shelby wet down a towel, squeezed shampoo on it and gave Brat's face a good long scrub. Brat seemed to enjoy it, rubbing her head up and down inside the towel. It was the first time that Brat had showed anything like affection and for brief moment Shelby forgot about Blue.
When Shelby pulled the towel away she saw that it was caked in coffee-coloured grime. Then she looked at Brat. What she saw confused her. Brat had grey patches around her eyes and straight down her nose.
'Hang on a second,' Shelby muttered. 'You've got a stripe.'
She rubbed again with the towel. It was murky and indistinct but it was there. Shelby sat on the grass, watching the pony dry. At first Shelby thought that she had been in the sun too long and wasn't seeing properly, but there was no doubt. Brat's face was a different colour; in fact, all over she was duller, much lighter and with a definite wide white stripe right down the middle of her face.
Shelby didn't know why the man had given her a brown horse that was actually a chestnut horse with a stripe, but she had an idea.
8 Like Grandpa's Hair
Shelby didn't tell her parents about Brat's peculiar change of colour. They hadn't seen the pony yet, so they wouldn't know the difference. They were both scared of horses, anyway. Whenever Shelby had asked either of her parents to hold Blue, they always clutched the very end of the rope nervously and told her to hurry.
When she walked into the house that afternoon, plonking the dirty saddle rug on the kitchen bench, she asked her mother whether she could call the farrier to have Brat's hooves attended to.
Her mother was sitting at the dining room table with a pair of Connor's school shorts on her lap and was threading a needle with grey cotton. 'Can it wait?' she asked.
Shelby's father was on the lounge room floor wrestling with her brothers. 'So does this new one pull a sulky?' he asked. 'Maybe you could get a milk run like they used to in the old days?'
Shelby ignored him. 'She's almost tripping over them. I have to get it done by Saturday or I won't be able to go to Pony Club.'
Her mother sighed. 'I suppose so.'
Shelby was very anxious to see the farrier. She had some questions for him. Fortunately, he was in the area the next day, and could drop by in the afternoon.
Erin rang in the morning to find out if Shelby wanted to ride, but the farrier's