Authors: Bonnie Bryant
I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few weeks about how some things just aren’t meant to be, no matter how much somebody wants them. I guess Stevie’s decision about Stewball last month got me started on that topic. After all, she really, really, really wanted Stewball to be her horse forever. For a while all she could think about was how much she cared about him, and that made her think that nothing should stop her from being with him all the time. And she and Stewball are so obviously crazy about each other that, for a while, the rest of us (well, Lisa and me, anyway) thought that made perfect sense. When all along there was just this one thing—namely, the fact that Stewball’s true home would always be out West while Stevie’s is back here in the East. That meant it couldn’t work out, no matter how much Stevie wanted it to.
I guess I’m still thinking about this because of my old diary I found back in June. Looking at the first few entries reminded me about how my family always dreamed of having a home of our very own where we’d live, just the three of us, for years and years. Maybe that’s sort of the same thing, you know? If it weren’t for that one thing …
Well, this is getting too depressing and serious. Besides, it’s
definitely
not the kind of thing I’m supposed to be writing in here. I’ve been lazy all summer about this journal, actually. Now that school has started again, I’ll have to get back to writing the stuff I’m supposed to be writing in here, like
training notes and notes about my career (since that
does
have to do with riding).
Training notes first. This time the notes aren’t going to be about Starlight, though—at least not directly. Today (Thursday), Starlight and I held another training session with Lisa and Prancer, and it went really well. We concentrated on obedience and precision, putting the horses through some basic dressage exercises to see how much Prancer has learned. Then we tested her some more by having her follow Starlight around the ring. First we had them both walk. Then I asked Starlight to trot, but Lisa didn’t let Prancer break into a trot to keep up, like the horse wanted to. Instead she kept her at a walk so that Prancer would know she always had to respond to what her rider wanted her to do. That’s an important lesson for any horse, of course. But Prancer is even more competitive than most horses because of her early training, so we want to be certain that she learns the lesson well. We went on with the same exercise for a while, shifting gaits back and forth. She did really well, and so did Lisa.
Sometimes when I’m watching her these days, it’s hard for me to believe that Prancer started out her life as a racehorse. I mean, it’s impossible to forget that she’s a Thoroughbred, of course—just looking at her long, graceful legs and sloped shoulders is enough to tell you that. But even though she still needs more training, she’s adjusting really well so far to her new career as a pleasure horse.
Speaking of careers, the whole time I was watching Lisa and Prancer today, I was thinking about how interesting it would be to concentrate on training full-time. It must be
really interesting to spend all your time thinking about how to help horses get better at whatever they’re supposed to be doing, whether you’re a trainer who specializes in one sport, like jumping or racing, or whether you mostly just work with general riding horses. Then there are the people who train their own competition horses, like our friend Dorothy DeSoto used to do before she retired from competition—that’s one way I could combine two interests, riding and training. Or there are people who train horses for very specific purposes, like to be police horses or for therapeutic riding or the circus or whatever.
It’s amazing to think how many different careers there are out there! I mean, there are about a million kinds of trainers alone. And beyond that, there are a
billion
other careers working with horses.
I guess maybe I should consider myself lucky that at least I’ve narrowed things down that far. Because if I had to choose out of every possible career in the world (military officer like Dad, lawyer like Stevie’s parents, accountant/businessperson like Lisa’s dad, newspaper reporter like Deborah, doctor, dentist, teacher, travel agent, musician, telephone repairperson, waitress, politician, farmer, truck driver, chef, plumber, artist, engineer, carpenter, actor, salesperson, tree surgeon …) I would probably go crazy. Although I just remembered one other career I could definitely cross off my list—bug specialist! Those creepy-crawlies we saw when Dad and I went to the Insect Zoo at the Smithsonian last weekend with Marie Dana and her mom were really gross. I’m not usually squeamish about that sort of thing, but somehow, seeing
so many insects and spiders in the same place kind of freaked me out. It’s just a good thing I didn’t say so to Marie—she would have teased me even more than she already does.
That reminds me. I should probably stop writing soon and go get the guest room ready for when Marie gets here next Tuesday. She’ll be staying with us for a couple of weeks while her mother’s in Europe on business, and I’m looking forward to having a temporary sister. I’ve always wondered what it would be like not to be an only child.
More importantly, I really want Marie to feel comfortable while she’s staying with us, especially since she’ll be having her birthday while she’s here. And that probably won’t be easy in any case, since it will be her first birthday since her father was killed in a car accident.
It’s probably going to be a really difficult time for her, but I want to make it a little easier if I can. Actually, I just had an idea for something that might help me get some perspective on what Marie’s going through. Maybe I should get out my old diary and read a little more. I mean, I kind of stopped reading it a while back after I finished those first few entries, the easy parts. But if it will help me help Marie, I guess I could try to read a little farther. The guest room can wait.…
Dear Diary:
Well, we put it off until the middle of December, but my crazy family finally decided on a vacation spot! After all our weeks of arguing (or “debating,” as Mom likes to call it) we decided to rent a condo at this resort in the mountains. It’s
not that place in West Virginia that Mom wanted—there was nothing to do there except stare at the water and twiddle your thumbs (at least that’s the way Dad described it the other day, which made Mom laugh so hard she almost choked on the cookie she was eating). But some friend of Dad’s at the base told him about this resort, which is in Vermont. Dad’s friend has been there a bunch of times and said it has a lake and nice scenery (for Mom), a stable and tons of riding trails through the woods and mountains (for me), and a swimming pool and lots of other sports facilities (for Dad). There’s no golf course, but Dad said that’s what compromise is all about. Besides, I think he’s kind of excited about learning to ski. None of us has ever done it before, and we’re going to sign up for family lessons as soon as we get there. That should be fun, though of course I’m looking forward to the riding trails even more than the ski trails, ha ha!
Anyway, it really does sound like a great place. Mom and Dad have been joking that we’re making up for all those years without vacations by packing every possible vacation activity (except golf, Dad keeps adding) into this one trip. Actually, it’s kind of funny—I think they’re even a little nervous about that. Mom made doctor’s appointments for us all to have checkups before we go to make sure we’re ready for all that active outdoor stuff. And Dad is already talking about how he wants to get ahead on his paperwork at the office before we leave. He claims it’s so he can relax and not worry about work while we’re on vacation, but Mom said she thinks he’s secretly afraid he’s going to break a leg or two
learning to ski and doesn’t want to fall behind at work while he’s recuperating! Ha!
I’m
definitely not going to waste time worrying about anything like that. And I’m sure that once we get there my parents will relax and have fun. Maybe while we’re at the resort, I can even get Mom and Dad into the saddle for a nice trail ride! Now
that
would be what I’d call family fun!
Dear Diary:
This is a week when
I mean, I can’t
What can I say about this? It’s too crazy to write down. Crazy. That’s what it is. Crazy. I really don’t even want to try to talk about it, because
Okay, I have to start again
.
This has got to be a mistake. It’s
got to.
There’s no way it could be real. I mean, we’re supposed to be leaving on our big vacation in just a couple of weeks. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? It’s supposed to be this way: We plan our vacation. We go on our vacation. We have a great time and live happily ever after
.
Here’s how it’s
not
supposed to be: We plan our vacation. We go to the doctor to get checkups before the vacation. The doctor finds something suspicious in one of Mom’s tests. The doctor tests her again. Then he sends her to a specialist. The specialist says
I can’t write it. I can’t write it down. Mom and Dad are
downstairs; I’m not sure what they’re doing. Probably talking about what the doctor said. I mean, it’s only four-thirty in the afternoon and Dad came home from work as soon as Mom called him
.
It can’t be true. There has to be a mistake. Aren’t they always showing stuff on the news about how doctors make mistakes all the time? They’re only human, right? It can happen
.
Anyway, Mom is going to a different specialist tomorrow for a second opinion. She made the appointment right after the first one called
.
So here’s what’s probably happening. Mom goes to a crazy specialist who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Crazy specialist gives her some crazy news that can’t possibly be true. Realizing this, Mom wisely makes appointment with a different specialist. She goes to see the new specialist, and the new specialist immediately tells her she’s the healthiest person he’s ever seen in his life. Everything is fine, we all go off on vacation together like we planned and have a wonderful time, and no one ever mentions the word
cancer
again
.
Oops. I didn’t mean to write that word down. But it doesn’t matter. Because it can’t possibly be true
.
And just to prove that everything’s totally normal and there’s nothing to worry about, I think I’ll do something totally normal now, like go over to Pine Hollow. Maybe that will help me stop thinking about this for a while, at least until they tell me it’s all a horrible mistake
.
FROM : | | HorseGal |
TO : | | Steviethegreat |
TO : | | LAtwood |
SUBJECT : | | My new sister |
MESSAGE : | | |
Hi, guys! I hope you’re both still thinking of lots of fun things to do while Marie is here. Like I told you at TD’s earlier today, she’s coming after school tomorrow, and I want to make sure she doesn’t have time to miss her mother too much. Or her father, either, of course.
Anyway, so far I think what we have on the schedule is trail rides, possibly a picnic in the woods, and of course the big birthday sleepover in the loft at Pine Hollow.
Still, like I told you today, I also want to give her a little time to settle in before we do any of that stuff. She likes riding well enough, as you know from meeting her before, but she’s not quite as horse-crazy as the three of us. So I want to make sure we do stuff that she wants to do, even if it doesn’t always involve horses. I hope you understand.
By the way, in case you’re wondering, Dad and I still haven’t come up with any brilliant ideas for Marie’s birthday gift. But we’re going to keep thinking. I’m sure it will be easier to come up with something good when she’s actually here.
I can’t believe she’s coming tomorrow. I can’t wait!
P.S.—Stevie, in case you can’t tell, I’m still definitely not
interested in trading my new “sister” for your three monster brothers. So don’t even bother to ask again! Ha!