Post by mattie on Jan 6, 2012 21:24:51 GMT -5
C a r l i n
[/size][/b]
[/center]Walking up to Flynt's stall, I heard a low whicker, causing a smile to appear on my face. "Hi, buddy," I cooed, rubbing his cream colored face, brushed his wavy forelock out of his eyes. "I think you need a work out. He tossed his head, weather he agreed or not, I wasn't sure, but it made me laugh softly. I walked down the aisle to the tack room and got my large black western saddle for today. Despite the fact it was only my practice saddle, it was decked out in slight bling. I placed it on my arm, the matching bridle over my shoulder, and walked back to Flynt's stall. After placing his tack on the stall-side racks, I groomed him in his stall, conscious of his hate for cross ties. I didn't worry about putting his halter on, because he was always so good about being groomed (I assumed because he likes it, but who really know). I pulled his tack in the stall and smoothes the clean, white pad over his back before gently setting the heavy saddle on his back. I slipped the bosel over his large head and led him out of the stall, to the nearest dirt outdoor arena. I swung into the saddle and settled into in after plucking a white hair from my dark skinny jeans. I placed my feet in the stirrups, wearing tall hunt seat boots and tapped his sides. Looked down at my clothes, I was content with my appearance today. My hair was straightened, and I decided against a helmet - I never wore one riding western - and for my shirt, I tucked in my light blue tack top, giving it a gathered bottom look under my simple black belt, the buckle pulled to the side on my hip. A light smile turned the corners of my lips upwards as I tapped Flynt's sides into a canter, the breeze now blowing through my hair.