.:EQUUS:.

Below are the first two chapters of the work in progress that is my novel currently.  I’m three quarters of the way through writing it and really hope to have the story finished by the end of 2009 (before if possible!).  I’m leaning towards self publishing and will be selling the book from this site for those who are interested.

Studs is based around four female figures in the horse industry and follows their lives over the years, opening the reader’s eyes to what can be expected of you if you are seeking work in a horse riding school or on a horse stud.  I’m also hoping the story will be educational for those who are truly considering one of these possibilities as a career and will encourage them to seek out possibilities for study and employment.

Thinking of a career with horses? Or more specifically, racehorses? You might want to question your sanity. An inside look into the not so romantic, yet highly entertaining world of breeding Thoroughbreds. This book is for anyone who loves horses, is interested in learning about horses or just wants a good laugh.

STUDS
1.
February 2001

Lise Hemmingway smiled to herself, studiously reading the available jobs listed on the sheet in front of her.

She silently thanked whichever genius had decided to start a company that focused solely on advertising jobs in the equine industry and lining up capable people to take on these jobs anywhere across the globe.

At nineteen years of age, the slim brunette already boasted a strong love of horses and had proven herself capable of handling and caring for excitable Thoroughbreds many a time.

Just recently, she had finished up a six-month stint at a large stud in the Hunter Valley, working with weanlings and previously foaling down mares. Now in February and barely scraping the surface of what 2001 had to offer her, she had traveled to South Australia with a friend, helping out with a few yearlings for the Magic Millions Adelaide Yearling Sale to earn a bit of extra money before moving on to Victoria.

Having given up on school at the age of sixteen Lise had quickly learnt what hard work was involved in working in the Thoroughbred field.

This was now especially true, with the equine industry quickly adopting the idea of employing those who had taken the time to learn the theory and gain the piece of paper.

Eager to improve herself though, she had delighted her past employers by asking lots of questions, often volunteering for tasks others shied away from and consistently turning up early or staying behind late. It was obvious to others that she was aware that working with horses wasn’t at all a nine to five job, but rather, a lifestyle.

Now, two and a half years later she had an attractive resume behind her and was ready to take on a more challenging role in Victoria. All she had to do was find the job, she reminded herself, moving out of the way of a colt that was prancing excitedly on the end of his lead.

“Your horse is about to slip that shoe,” she observed an older man telling the handler as they led the yearling up to the ring.

The handler paused, looked at the horse’s foot, shrugged and continued on their way.

“But hey, that’s fine when the nail punctures his sole and an infection builds up and suddenly you don’t have a viable racehorse. Moron,” he muttered, shaking his head in disgust before following the animal up to the pre-sale ring.

Curious, Lise followed the older male, placing herself casually beside him, her gaze also following the horse and handler around the ring.

The same colt, discovering a filly in front of him increased his pace, the handler oblivious of the horse in front of them. Squealing, the colt lunged forward, nearly gaining a kick from the filly.

He then jumped back in surprise, pulling the confused handler with him.

This exertion on the loose shoe half pulled it from the colt’s foot, leaving the shoe dangling and nails sticking up while the excited animal pranced on a tight lead, the handler now in control but in danger of the young animal piercing its foot.

The older male observing this at the ring sighed.

“I told him,” he muttered to himself, flicking a cigarette to the ground before stamping it out with his foot.

“People don’t always recognise a knowledgeable piece of information,” Lise responded, gaining his attention.

The male nodded.

“You’re telling me!”

“Farrier… or just particularly aware of how true the saying no foot, no horse is?” she queried, realising that the clinking noise that resounded every time the colt put weight on the foot with the loose shoe should clue in anyone who had been around shod horses awhile.

He nodded, pulling out his wallet and extracting a card, handing it to her.

“Guess it’s not worth giving advice to people who don’t ask. Stuart Hunter,” he introduced himself.

“Lise Hemmingway,” she smiled, shaking the hand he offered.

“When I land myself a job, I’ll keep you in mind,” she smiled.

“Looking for anything in particular?” he queried, lounging against the rail, his gaze drifting to the colt as its handler led it through to the inside sale ring.

“Find out who that guy works for… I’m sure his boss will be looking for another worker soon,” he grinned.

Lise laughed.

“Wrong time of season, but I want to focus on foal care.”

He cast his eye over her, taking in her small frame.

“Had much experience?” he questioned dubiously.

She smiled.

“I’m competent enough… don’t let the young age fool you. I was up Hunter Valley way but actually want to be situated in Victoria.”

“So why the Adelaide sales?”

“Just helping out a mate with a couple of horses.”

He nodded, kicking the ground.

“Nirvana Park… I heard through the grapevine they’re taking on a couple more stallions for the next breeding season and they usually have a lot of weaners. Probably could do with an extra pair of hands at this time… Barn C. The guy’s name is Kinglsey… David Kingsley.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” she shook his hand again and strolled back to the barn where her friend’s yearlings were stabled.

The young brunette smiled. The name rang a bell and although she knew little about the stud, she was aware of their reputation for turning out yearlings to a high standard and receiving good sales prices.

Topping up some water buckets, she glanced down the aisle at a television that was set up, showing each lot as it was taken through the ring.

Noting that her friend’s first horse to go through, a chestnut filly by Rory’s Jester, wasn’t due to be in the ring for another hour or so, she finished filling the buckets, checked each horse had food and strolled out of the barn, heading toward where Nirvana Park was stabled.

***

Glancing out of the school window across the green oval the bored sixteen-year-old sighed, convincing herself it would be a lot more exhilarating racing her palomino gelding around the emerald surface than sitting in a stuffy room while their teacher marked the role.

Calling her name he gained her attention, marking her off before addressing the class.

“Morning everyone. Over the next fifteen minutes or so, I want you to have a think about what you’re going to do after year twelve.

“Because you’re in year eleven, I know most of you have already picked subjects that coincide with what you plan on studying in University. But, today I’d like you to have a think about what you want as a job after your studies and list five different possibilities for me. This year you’re going to do two bouts of work experience, so we will try and line these up with your preferences,” a balding fifty something pedagogue informed the general consensus of bored teens before him.

She smiled to herself, mentally correcting the teacher as she stared at the blank piece of paper in front of her. She didn’t want a job – she wanted a career.

And she wouldn’t spend fifteen minutes deciding on one either, she’d spent just short of fifteen years deciding on horses. Flicking through the University/TAFE guide before her she stopped on the letter E, her eyes scanning the page until she came across the word she was looking for.

Finding a list of seven or so careers, she mentally crossed out those that didn’t appeal to her, writing down the few that did before her attention returned to the green surface outside the classroom.

Replaying in her mind the conversation with her “Careers Teacher”, she smiled ruefully, more than aware of how she should have handled the conversation.

“Horses aren’t a career, dear. Every girl goes through a stage where she wants a pony; you’ll grow out of it. Aside from that, it’s too dangerous working with these unpredictable animals.”

It’ll be even more dangerous me working with them if I’m not initially trained to do so.

“Girls that want ponies do quickly grow out of it, generally by the time they’ve discovered the male population. I own a horse, have had this infatuation for the past ten or so years and don’t believe I’ll be growing out of it anytime soon. Though, if I am going to do so, surely I’d tire of the animals more quickly if I was put to work with them?”

Aware that this response from her could have turned the conversation either way, she was curious to know if it would have worked to her advantage.

Thankful she had a mother whom was insistent on her following her heart, there’d been no need for her to have a follow up conversation with the older male however, and it was all thanks to her mother’s “little conversation” with the man. She’d managed to convince the teacher to agree to let her daughter work with horses, at least for the first lot of work experience and that’s all that mattered to the teen.

Grinning, she scanned the list of horse properties in the phone book before her, highlighting those that were close enough for her to consider working at and therefore send a letter to.

***

Grinning excitedly, Lise exited Barn C, concluding she was up for a rather long drive if she was to start working at Nirvana Park come April. Hearing racing hooves meeting hard ground she glanced around, expecting to see a loose horse. Spying the culprit - a young colt racing backwards on the end of its lead while it’s handler tried to keep up - she watched curiously, waiting for the inevitable.

Surprisingly the handler managed to hold on and she watched, impressed as he quietly talked to the colt, gaining some ground - and lead - as he came to stand beside the horse’s shoulder, encouraging the young equine forward. The colt took a couple of prancing steps forward before dancing on his hind legs, his handler responding by lifting the lead high into the air so his charge wouldn’t get his legs caught up in it.

Once the colt had calmed down, Lise cast an experienced eye over the bay animal, taking in his well-conformed body.

Curious, she made a note of the number on the handler’s hip tag and looked the animal up in her catalog, glancing over the colt’s pedigree. She grinned as she took in the name of the mare, recognising it to be one she had dealt with a few years earlier at the racetrack.

Small world. She always was a wranger of a horse… this boy must have inherited it.

Overhearing lot number 130 being called to the outdoor parade ring, she quickened her step with the realisation that her friend’s filly would be going through in twenty lots. Time to get her ready.

2.
“Now turn left here, dear,” her mother directed her father, the car turning the corner before coming to a stop as the car full of people took in the view of painted white fences, green grass and grazing horses before them.

The youth smiled, turning her focus to her mother as the older woman started to speak.

“So! I guess this is where you’ll be doing work experience… you should see the look on your face!” she smiled at her daughter who had turned her gaze back to the impressive looking property.

“Ready to go horse riding now?”

“Stupid question,” she replied, grinning as her father turned the vehicle around heading for the property a few minutes away where her gelding was agisted.

***

“Michael?”

“That would be me. I take it you’re Stuart?” the young man inquired, offering his hand.

“Definitely am. New to the property?” Stuart inquired after shaking the taller man’s hand.

“New to horses in general,” he smiled, gesturing to the tall gelding that was badly in need of having its feet trimmed.

Taking in the sight of the underweight animal under an experienced eye, Stuart grimly patted the horse before lifting up a front foot to inspect the damage.

At least someone has told him the feet need doing… People should need a license to own horses… not that it was this man who left this horse in it’s current condition…

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts before addressing Michael.

“You own this horse then?” he queried as he stepped away from the animal, putting his chaps on before grabbing his tools and once again picking up the equine’s leg.

“Not yet. I’m leasing him for six months with the option to buy… it was suggested to get his feet in better shape before taking him for any rides though and I’m eager to get started. I’ve had a few lessons at a nearby riding school and then found this guy advertised in the paper.”

Stuart nodded as he cleaned out the foot with his hoof knife before moving on to clipping the unneeded growth with a pair of pincers.

“Well his feet aren’t too bad… it just looks like they haven’t been trimmed in awhile.”

Michael nodded, watching curiously before turning his attention back to the young girl whom he had been watching have a jumping lesson in the arena opposite.

“Eye’s up, Jacinta. Make sure you’re focusing on the centre of the jump and beyond. Good,” her instructor informed her, watching intently.

The young woman frowned, focusing all of her being on the jump in front of her, approached the centre, lifted, rose over the jump, landed and directed herself toward the next jump, just as determined as before. She stayed focused; telling herself the time to relax would be once she’d finished the course.

The sixteen-year-old completed the course, making it a relatively easy clear round before trotting her mount toward the end of the arena where her instructor was standing.

“That was great. I just want you to remember where your focus should be and make sure Geira’s strides are even. She still wants to rush just before the spreads where you need to keep her collected. You don’t want her coming up short before a jump she’s really going to need to stretch over,” he reminded the determined young woman, speaking of her Arab mare.

Jacinta nodded, taking in the information and reminding herself to put it to good use each time she was riding.

“Other than that,” her instructor spoke up, grinning, “I’d say you’re ready for the show on Saturday. You’d better bring us home another blue!” he smiled, wandering out of the arena before the young woman dismounted, rolled up her stirrups, loosened the girth and walked her mare around to cool her down.

Jacinta finished cooling down her mare and headed to a spare stall, tying up Geira before removing her tack and giving the Arabian a good curry followed by a light brush over.

As she worked the familiar routine, she went over in her mind the dressage test she was to execute the next weekend. Satisfied that she had it memorised her thoughts traveled to how she would plait up Geira to best show off her not too lengthy neck and strong quarters.

***

Relaxing in her seat, the sixteen-year-old reminded herself she would communicate a lot better with her horse if she were at ease. Grinning, she lined up the prancing gelding alongside her friends’ horses waiting for a signal.

“One, two… three! Go!”

Touching her legs to her mount’s side she spurred the animal forward, racing the children surrounding her.

As she crossed the paddock she laughed at her horse’s nature. Set in the middle of the pack he was eager to overtake those in front of him but so focused on those drawing in close from behind and too eager to send a kick in their general direction that he didn’t catch the leaders.

Content with his antics but still eager to give her friends a run for their money, she lined up her gelding as the group reached the end of the paddock, ready to do it all again and keenly waiting for the chance to jump out ahead of them.

Halfway across the paddock she glanced to her right, taking in the sight of another palomino - a pony mare - keeping in line with her and consequently pushed her frame further forward, lifting her weight off her gelding’s back in an attempt to encourage him to increase his pace.

A few strides later she came to realise her mistake as the cantankerous equine let fly with a couple of bucks, sending her flying over his shoulder before landing with a thud, banging her head on the ground.

She groaned and stood slowly, shaking her head to disperse of the stars that were interrupting her view of the paddock. As things cleared she grinned at the sight of her plump gelding - a few metres in front of her, grazing earnestly.

“Reign!”

He lifted his head, stared at her for a second before snorting and taking a step toward her before lowering his head to the grass once again.

“I’d be tempted to tell you off… but it was my fault for being too forward out of the saddle,” she muttered half to her horse, half to herself as she came to stand alongside him and gather up the reins before returning herself to sitting astride the animal.

“Shall we try that again?” she asked, grinning as he snorted and tried to lower his head for some more food.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re not supposed to eat with a bit in your mouth?” she chastised, keeping a firm grip on the reins so as to stop him from grazing.

Shaking her head, she pushed the horse into a walk, grinning as a friend cantered up to her, shortly followed by the rest of the racers.

“You ok?”

She nodded, patting the gelding’s neck.

“Think I can only blame myself for that one.”

“Ten out of ten for the fall,” a youth cut in, grinning.

She laughed in response.

“Thanks, I think… Ninety four to go!”

“And are you planning on having all one hundred of your falls on this overweight pony?” he questioned, smirking.

“Jake, he’s not a pony - he sits on 15 hands, thank you very much. And he’s festively plump, not overweight!” she replied, barely managing to hide her grin, “but if I keep going at this rate… yeah, I should be able to manage becoming a rider, thanks to this horse alone.”

He chuckled, pushing his mount into a trot to keep up with her as they exited the paddock and headed toward another.

“Up for some jumps?”

“Are you that eager to see me reach my hundred falls?” she questioned in mock alarm, earning another laugh from him.

“Jumping’s not that bad, you know.”

“Works better for me when I’m on a horse that enjoys going over obstacles more than sending his rider over them without him,” she muttered but still followed as he led the way to the jumping paddock.

“Man, I wish we could go back to doing this every day of the week,” she sighed as she sat comfortably while her gelding jogged after the chestnut in front of him.

“Speaking of which, how has your first couple of weeks of school been?” Jake questioned, turning back in time to see her screw up her face in disgust.

“That good, huh?” he grinned.

“I shouldn’t complain with it only having been such a short time. Plus, I have a heap of frees on Wednesdays… but I can’t wait until next Wednesday when I start my VET course,” she grinned.

“I can understand why! Do you get to spend the whole of Wednesday studying horses?”

“Yup,” she grinned, bringing her horse to a halt as Jake paused beside her, the jumps momentarily forgotten.

“You can’t complain about school at all… at least you’ve only got two years left… unlike my four,” he muttered, frowning as she nodded, grinning.

“Thanks for that reminder. Just what I needed!” she called out as she spurred Reign forward and trotted him over the first cross rail before pushing him into a canter and taking the two three tyre spread.

Shaking his head, the younger male pushed his horse into motion, following the path of the entertaining pair that was now headed toward their fourth jump.