just DANCE DANCE DANCE 01

All of the yearling fillies crowed around the gate, but I had eyes only for one. Moondance. The beautiful bay filly that would be mine to train and race in the upcoming years. Naturally the quiet filly wasn't anywhere near the front gate, where Fire and Tura were both vying for my attention. Suddenly, an authoritative snort came from the pasture next over. All of the filies answered Prancer's call with snorts of their own, backing away. A smirk forced itself onto my face. Prancer was practically leader of the yearlings. The only horse to challenge him was Falsehood at the other side of the stable grounds.

Mona came up to me when the other two fillies had gone, quietly investigating me with her bright brown eyes. My own face took on the softness of her gaze, and I sighed deep inside. It was halfway through the season, and the yearlings were starting their training. I was to start Mona's now. Since it was only day one, I was going to get her used to strange stalls and tack and all that. I might be taking it a bit fast, but all of the yearlings were very intelligent, especially Tura and Asus. Mona's intelligence was questionable, but I had faith in her.

The inquisitive filly whinnied softly when I vaulted over the paddock gate, lead rope in hand. She waited patiently while I walked through sticky mud to get to her and clip the lead rope I held to her bright red halter. I wasn't surprised at her quietness; a lot of the horses I cared for had this quality. Classy, for example, didn't so much as miss a step if a loud, obnoxious young horse bolted past him on the track. Mona had the very same quality, and that already marked her as one with promise.

I crooned to her very softly as I led her out. Tura and Fire were watching me with hostile eyes. Mona was getting the attention, not them. I sighed and said loudly Amber should be around any moment Tura. Tura snorted, whether in acknowledgment or further anger I didn't know. Fire remained silent, not reacting to Amber's name. Amber and I hadn't been able to bond with Fire. The yearling needed a rider that was similar to her, and Amber was trying her hardest to find that rider. Asus hadn't found his dream rider yet either, though he had bonded with both Amber and me. The rest of the yearlings had all bonded with Amber, except for Mona here who I thought liked me.

As we walked up a clear concrete path horses in the other pastures watched as go by. Fly Away Tia, a champion Dutch Warmblood eventing mare, snorted quietly to Classically Dynamic, a bay Arabian, at her side. Dyna, in turn, neighed across the aisle to where Baroque Classic, a beautiful classic gray Lippizzan stallion, was dancing along at a smooth trot. A paint mare joined in the talk - Classically Spottytastic - when suddenly a thunderous neigh came from the bay stallion Barely A Moment and all were silent. Thank you Momento! I said aloud, and the bay stallion answered with a whinny that begged for treats. A dark bay thoroughbred mare - Flash At Dawn, I saw - nudged her friend the gray thoroughbred mare Forbidden Wings, and both began to casually flirt with Momento. I shook my head, amused, and Mona broke through her quiet facade and whinnied in disgust.

Moondance began to dance, her forelock flying as she lifted her head up and down and picked up her hooves. The sight attracted every male horse's attention, and I was forced to pull Mona along lest Amber had to come and tranquilize the lot. I sighed, hopelessly smiling at the antics of the stable's horses, and then led Mona into an empty stable. It was empty because it was the old boarding stable - Indigo Mornings, it had been called. This stable was now used to school the young horses.

Mona's first reaction was a nervous whinny. She hadn't been any place unfamiliar in her whole life. I continued to lead the now unwilling filly on, letting her pass through the lighted section of the barn and begin her journey through the dark section. Now Mona whinnied in fear, and she pulled back. I stopped, not looking at the filly, just waiting for her to get over it. This was not only a surroundings exercise but a trust test. If she trusted me she would follow me everywhere, even into darkness and scariness. It was a necessary part of a racehorse's life, because without bravery you might not be able to take the risks that made a horse a champion.

I could tell that Mona was straining her senses in every direction. Her nose sniffed the air for hostile horses. Her eyes sought through the darkness looking for the lighthouse that would erase her fear. Her hooves pawed the ground, some still to feel vibrations. Her ears swiveled back and forth, alert for approaching hoofsteps. But there was nothing, and the filly slowly relaxed, snorting quietly before following my command to walk forward.

I grinned in delight of our first victory, but didn't let it go to my head. We still had a long way to go, and Mona still had many lessons to learn. Now I led her, one foot at a time, through the darkness. The yearling followed hesitantly, one hoof at a time, still straining her senses for enemies. There seemed to be nothing, and after about five stalls she relaxed and treated the unfamiliar place like any other.

Now I would turn on the lights, suddenly and unexpectedly. One part of this training involved bombproofing the horses, so they would be even more effective racehorses and wouldn't be startled at the largest of explosions that would send some other horses into a panic. I fingered in front of me, and when my hands caught a chain I instantly pulled. Lights burst into life all the way down the barn, and Mona pulled back and whinnied in fright. I hadn't moved a muscle, and while Mona calmed down I looked ahead of me for the next light. This one would turn them off.

Mona was fidgeting uncomfortably three minutes later, ready to continue but nervous for the next surprising and scary attack by light switch or darkness. I thought about whether it would be smart to continue, and waited an extra two minutes. By then, Mona had calmed down, and nudged my back playfully. I smiled and turned to pat her soft, velvet nose lovingly. But then it was back to work. I walked the gorgeous bay filly forward, my hand reaching for the second light. I could practically feel Mona's attentiveness, and when I turned off the light the pretty filly didn't flinch. So, she was smart, figuring this chain-thing would turn the bright into darkness. I smiled proudly, and led the filly down the hallway and out of the barn.

Mona calmed down even more in the presence of nature. I hoped it would be easier than the barn episode to get her unafraid of tack. I led her to a small shed, and tied her to a hitching post outside. The filly stood at attention, feet even and head facing forward, but her eyes swiveled around to follow the summer bugs crawling around in the dirt. She shook her long, black, wavy mane disdainfully at their antics, and then pawed at the dirt. Instantly the bugs scurried away, not wanting to be crushed.

I left the filly to her own devices and went into the shade, coming out one minute later with a small racing saddle and bridle. The filly didn't react, so used was she today to the unexpected and unknown. I let the filly sniff both pieces of tack, and when she was completely calm I slowly and gently lifted the saddle, and taking it five seconds at a time I lowered the saddle onto her back. Instantly the filly snorted, shifting from leg to leg uneasily, but in under ten seconds she became quiet. I grinned and got out the girth, feeding it into the buckles of one side and then putting it under her belly and slowly tightening it on the other.

The filly's reaction was immediate. Mona whinnied in fright and stepped forward, the saddle sliding on her back. This only frightening her more, but before she could become completely crazy I grabbed the reins and soothed her with a soft humming. Two minutes later, the filly began to listen, and as she listened I could feel her heartbeat slow under the hand that rubbed her gleaming bay coat in soothing motions. Slowly, I tightened the girth to as tight as it had to be. The filly didn't react, finally putting her trust into me and that I knew what was safe for her.

I smiled, and then took off the saddle. The bridle would be a bit much today, I knew. We were done. I dug out a carrot from a bag in the shed and gave it to her once I'd put the tack away. Mona munched on her treat, alive with the knowledge that she had done well, and I smiled and praised her before walking her through the unfamiliar barn again and repeating the same exercises. There was no reaction from her, and when we emerged I dug out a lump of sugar and let her lick it from my slightly sweaty palm. A smile of victory was on my lips, for Mona had done excellently.

When I released the filly back into the pasture she went away slowly, looking back once at me and whickering before kicking up her heels and racing away with the other yearlings.