Page 223 - Mobile Magic

223
Magic was black and beautiful with her new summer coat, but compared to several of the horses there, she looked like a feral- dirtbag. They must be permanently rugged and stabled, thought Saffron, who was starting to feel like a dirtbag herself. Luckily for her fragile self-esteem, she spied two other fit looking horses wearing Australian stock-saddles.
Because she was new to the Pony Club she was put in with a group of kids who were either over-mounted and frightened or were inexperienced riders on educated horses. That didn’t worry her. She knew she and Magic would have a chance to prove themselves later.
The first hour was spent doing flat-work, unexciting but necessary. Magic was not always as relaxed as she could be and sometimes tried to evade the bit by opening her mouth or raising her head. That didn’t worry Saffron, she knew it would improve with plenty of calm, steady work. Anyway, Magic’s ex- owner had said she was a top sporting pony, and that’s a completely different field.
What did annoy her, though, was to see one rider in the group, inexperienced but arrogant, constantly jabbing her soft and willing horse in the mouth. The girl had a totally rigid rein- contact. She was riding her horse as though she were pushing a pram.
It was soon morning-tea time. Saffron discovered her father, the sleeves of his flannie-shirt rolled up and his hair pulled back in a pony tail, showing off his knife technique in the canteen.