Dust floated in the sunrays filtering through cracks in the stable walls. Neighing and nickering, Tiny and Princess stamped the ground. Tiny, a copper-brown was a pure Quarter-horse. Princess, on the other hand, looked closer to a dark, dried mud and was a little shorter than Tiny. Both seemed impossibly tall. I stepped up into the stirrup from the second board of the fence, and Princess swayed as she accepted my weight. Leather, hay, sweat, manure, and heat created heady ambrosia. Princess followed Debbie and Tiny out of the stable into the bright light and blue sky. Clip-clopping along the concrete floor, Princess kept trying to knock me off by rubbing up against the walls until I pulled her reigns back.

³You¹ll break your butt if you don¹t loosen up, Drew,² said Debbie. ³Make your knees like hinges or mattress springs.²

³OK,² I said, trying to relax my thighs. Leather creaked as we continued from the concrete onto the packed earth. My legs, back, and butt ached from straddling the saddle until I surrendered to the bouncing motion. ³I¹m really riding a horse,² I thought. Everything seemed somehow different, brighter, shorter, more intense. Princess had bent her head down to sample some weeds sprouting along the path.

³Hurry up, slowpoke,² Debbie shouted and began trotting Tiny up the hill into the cow pasture. Not to be left behind or to be outdone, Princess started trotting too. That was a whole different sensation. I felt my butt slapping back against the hard, smooth leather until I found the new rhythm. I enjoyed the contrasting warmth of the sun and cool breeze against my face and crewcut as we entered the pasture. A barbed-wire fence and copse of oaks and maples marked the boundaries of the various pastures and ended the uphill climb.