One more partial chapter, just for you, maeve.:-) I'm going to have to think on if I want to put any more of it up until I have edited some more. :-)
A note to my siblings (in case they read this): Each one of us has different memories, coloured by our own perceptions. I have changed some names and have deliberately not focussed on featuring the whole family, siblings included. Anything you read is my memory only, fictionalised, and is not meant as any kind of "written in stone" record of our family. Hopefully, you will still love me when I am 64!:-)
The setting: Kally's horse is a bay mare named "Vixen." Kally has just asked her mom is she can take Vixen down to the posse grounds for a ride in the arena.
"All right, Kally, go ahead and go. I can hear Vixen near the basement door. There are some carrots in the 'fridge. Why don't you hand her one and then you may go riding?"
The old Victorian farmhouse sat up on a hill. The front yard was almost level with the main floor, with just a few steps up to the front veranda. Around in back, following the driveway, the hill had been scooped out, level with the basement door. It was here coal trucks would come to dump loads of coal in the coal bins to fuel the ancient furnace. The kitchen was on the main floor with two windows, facing south, just above the coal bins and basement door.
"Thanks, mom! You're the best," Kally ran to the refrigerator and grabbed a carrot. She went over to one of the kitchen windows and threw up the sash. "Heya, Vix, here ya go, girl." She stretched out the window as far as she could, extending her arm downwards towards the waiting horse. Vixen had her neck stretched up as high as it could go. The little girl and the horse met just barely by fingertips and muzzle, when Vix's flashing white teeth grabbed the prize and quickly began chewing it to bits. "Stay there, Vix, I'll be right down," Kally told her.
She hurried over to the inside basement door, across from the sink, opened it and yelled, "Bye, mom!" as she hurried down the rickety old stairs. The basement was kind of scary to her. Cobwebs accumulated often no matter her mother's cleaning and it was dark. A bare bulb or two lit the way to the coal bins, door, and back to the monstrous furnace. Other rooms, all with foundation stone walls, were unlit and, in the right light and mood, full of "bogeymen." Kally hurried over to the door, flung it open and took a deep breath. Vixen still stood there, chewing the last bits of her carrot and looking for more handouts. During the day when she was free to roam, Kally and her sisters would also water Vixen at the basement door. They kept a bucket by the door where there was also a water faucet. They also kept another bag of oats there along with a saddle and bridle.
This afternoon, Kally took the bridle in one hand, hidden behind her back, and a few oats in her other hand. She opened it palm up, with her fingers tightly together and offered Vixen the treat. As Vix took them from her hand, Kally slowly reached around her neck and mane and slipped the reins of the bridle around her neck, quickly grabbing the one which dangled offside. She had to be quick and silent about it, sometimes, or Vix would take off before she could catch her. Talking softly to her, she slipped the bit into Vix's mouth, the band over Vix's ears, and buckled the cheek strap. Taking the reins, she looped them around an old post outside the basement door. Turning back to the basement, she grabbed the saddle blanket. It was a little dusty and smelled deliciously like "horse." She carefully slung it up onto Vix's back, making sure the sides were even. Next was the saddle, a genuine cowboy saddle, old and creaky with the leather well broken in. She hooked the offside stirrup onto the saddle horn to keep it from banging Vix as she hoisted the saddle with a grunt of effort, settling it evenly where it naturally fit her back. She had to be very careful with the next bit, reaching under Vix's belly to grab the cinch strap. Vix had a habit of sashaying around to keep Kally from reaching it. She had been a cutting horse on a ranch before retiring to live at Kally's parents' home. She had pretty little hooves which she danced around on and could turn on a dime. But, she was also pretty good with a kid, so eventually Kally would catch the cinch, thread it through the ring on the saddle, tighten it up and wait a second. Like most horses, Vixen would puff up her belly in an effort to keep the strap loose. Many inexperienced riders found themselves face down in the dirt from a too-loose-from-a-puffed-up-belly cinch strap. Kally believed horses did it mostly to laugh at the "greenhorns." Her daddy made sure she was no greenhorn, though. She put one foot up against Vix's belly, grabbed the strap once again and leaned back, pulling for all she was worth. Vix let go the air which made her belly full and Kally quickly secured the end of the cinch. By now, the stirrups were hanging in place. She and Vixen were ready to go. Because they would be riding along roads and past other dogs' territories, Tramp had to stay home.
Going a couple of miles west, then due south, Kally rode Vixen to the local sheriff's posse grounds. It was like a small rodeo arena, filled with soft dirt; surrounded by high wooden board fencing with a judges/commentator booth perched high up at one end. Faded wooden bleachers, full of slivers, were placed on the east and west sides. Today, there were three barrels placed in a triangle in the arena for barrel-racing practice. At the time, barrel-racing was the only part in which women could participate in a rodeo. Kally had been meaning to try Vix out on the barrels. Today was the day.
When they got there, some of the kids from Kally's school were there on their horses. "Hi, Kally, come on and do the barrels with us!" Karl hollered at her. She thought he was really cute, but she didn't think he was interested in her anyway, though her tummy fluttered at the sound of his voice and attention. Even so, she was much more interested in her horse than some boy. She entered the riding ring and watched as some of the other kids rode their horses around. Finally, it was her turn. "Let's go, Vix," she yelled and kicked Vix in the sides with her cowboy boots, urging her to run quickly. She headed her over to the first barrel. Being a cutting horse, used to quick, tight turns culling cattle from the herd, Vix knew exactly what to do and did it well. Round the barrel they went, then running across a short stretch to the next. All the time, Kally was talking softly to her, urging her to go faster, turn tighter. They made the second barrel just fine, then one more stretch to the last barrel, the point of the triangle. As they rounded it, Kally felt her boot brush the side of the barrel. Vix kept going, Kally barely hanging on, praying the barrel didn't fall over. She'd get a penalty for it, if it did and if she were in a real rodeo. Coming out of the turn, she glanced back and noticed the barrel had righted itself. Home free, almost, she brandished her quirt, touching Vix's hindquarters, yelling at her to "go, go, go!" and run like the wind to the finish line. It was a straight, long stretch, right up the middle, north to south. Vix was a good kid's horse, but only if the kid had some sense and some experience. She kept them on their toes and once in awhile she would pull a big surprise on them. Poor Kally hardly had time to register what Vix did next, as she was urging her on. Vixen stopped short, planting her front feet solidly, legs locked in position. She slung her neck down, like a swing-set slide. Kally slid down her neck with all the momentum of a fast ride, unable to grab leather or mane. Just as she neared Vix's neck, Vix lifted her head and gave a great toss. Kally went sailing through the air. She reached the finish line without the horse! She landed on her bottom and wailed with what her dad would later call a "good Scotch blessing." She cursed that horse until she was red in the face. Her friends were laughing. One of the boys said she sounded like a watermelon splitting open when she landed. She was so mad, frustrated and embarrassed; she wanted to sink into the ground.
Kally's dad had always told his kids, "If you get bucked off, rubbed off, or fall off, you have to get right back on; show the horse who is boss!" Slowly, she got up and tested her legs, arms, tush and ankles. She seemed to be all right except for a few bruises to her body and ego. She looked around to see Vixen standing placidly by as if to say, "Well, what's wrong with you, Kid?" By then her friends had come over to make sure she was okay. She walked over to Vixen with her hand out, palm up, "C'mere, girl, good girl." She knew she had to catch her with honey, not the way she was really feeling at the moment, madder than hops. Vix stretched out her magical slide neck and snuffled Kally's fingers. Then she let Kally get a little closer until she could grab the reins. Vix apparently had had enough fun at Kally's expense as she was quite ready to be mounted for the ride home. Kally told her friends goodbye and headed off at a slow walk.
By the time they came to the long driveway of home, Kally was hurting in a lot of places she didn't know she had. Her hands were scraped, her bottom hurt plenty and her whole skeleton felt like it'd been shaken out hard. Vix was happy to be home and eager for a cup of oats. Kally had to hold her back, not wanting the bone-jarring of a trot, or the speed of a gallop in the short stretch to the house. As she reined in Vix at the front steps, her mom and dad quickly came out onto the porch. Her mom said, "Kally! What happened?" Her dad said, "The ol' girl throwed ya, did she? We could hear you hollering and cussing at her clear up here!" His eyes had a twinkle in them. He had a hard time keeping his mouth from turning up at the corners.
Kally slowly and carefully climbed down from the saddle. She told her folks what had happened and how mad she was at Vixen. Nevertheless, she knew Vix was her responsibility. She was the one who had to unsaddle her. She was the one who had to water and feed her. She was the one who had to brush her coat and make sure she was none the worse for the wear of her escapades. Leading her round to the back, she tied her to the old post, opened the basement door and began her chores. When she took the saddle off, Vix blew out a few loud snorts of air and nuzzled her for some treats.
"Your mom wanted me to come down in the car to make sure you were okay," said Kally's dad. He'd followed her around to the back of the house and was watching her feed and groom Vix. "I told her, if your lungs was strong enough to be heard up here you were okay. If your brains'd been mush we wouldn't have heard that good Scotch blessing you gave ol' Vix!" By then, he was grinning from ear-to-ear. Kally felt better, knowing her dad had such confidence in her. It was as if she'd passed a test, a right of passage, getting outsmarted and dumped by their horse for the first time on her own. She felt like a chip off the old block and was proud. Turning Vix out to pasture, what there was of it, she gave her daddy a gingerly but heartfelt hug and they walked back round to the front and went inside. Her mom was waiting with a damp washcloth and the Mercurochrome. She gently cleaned Kally's hands and painted them with the stinging, bright orange anti-bacterium, blowing to take the sting away as she dabbed it on.
That night, Kally went to sleep, dreaming of her infamous "ride," her dad's cow man father, her granddad, and most of all of her beloved, if cantankerous horse.