Sweet Dreams

By Lynne M. Caulkett

When twleve-year-old Kayci Sweeney first lay her eyes on the sleek black horse standing in her grandfather''s barn, she knew immediately that this was the horse that had been in her dreams since she was a small child. The dream was always the same. The young girl rides a majestic black horse in front of the judges at a national horse competition, head held high, while thousands of spectators shout their support for the girl and her horse.

To make this dream come true, Kayci plunges forward with determination into the adventure of a lifetime with this special horse. In these chapters you will share in her persistance, her hard work, her heartaches and her triumphs. The close bonds that the girl and her mare form are heartwarming. You will feel it from the beginning.

Journey with them as they travel down the road of competition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 8, 2004
• ISBN: 9781468517361

Lynne M. Caulkett

     A native of Michigan, Lynne M. Caulkett has lived in Spring Hill, Florida with her husband Jim for the past nine years.  She shares her love of horses with her three children and eight grandchildren.  As the owner of the Bridle Path Ranch, she is a crusader against animal abuse and has experienced it first hand with some of her own horses that were rescued.  A move back to Michigan is in her near future, although she will stay involved with equestrian activities and her writing.      She is currently working on a book about the effects of therapeutic riding for handicapped children.  Watch for it in the spring of 2007.  

Book preview

This book is fictional. Dates and places reflecting the time period may be correct and in some cases, real names were used with permission. Any other similarities are purely coincidental.

© 2004 Lynne M. Caulkett

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by informational storage or retrieval system, without permission by the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 09/09/04

ISBN: 1-4184-9155-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-1736-1 (eBook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2004096152

Bloomington, Indiana

Acknowledgments:

The author, gratefully acknowledges the helpful support of the following people:

Kayci Renee Manosky, Laura Clark, and Karen A. Lynch for

all of their suggestions, proof reading and support.

Dr. Rik Daniels, DVM of Daniels and Daniels Veterinarian Services

8248 Handcart Rd. Zephyrhills, Florida 33539.

Jos Mottershead at www.equine-reproduction.com

Cover photo: Kayci Renea Manosky with Tennessee Walking Horse

Grand Illustrator, owned by Rose Marie Shaeffer

Other books by Lynne M. Caulkett:

Second Chances, Amazing Horse Rescues, available at

www.uPUBLISH.com/books/caulkett.htm

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my Mom,

Mary Ann Phyllis Spellman

You are my strength, my role model, my heart and my friend. You have given me a lifetime of love and support. For that I deeply thank you. I will never forget your wonderful words of praise after you read my first book,

Second Chances, Amazing Horse Rescues. Your words meant more to me than anyone. They gave me the drive to continue with my writing. So for that and for countless other reasons, this book is dedicated to you, Mom.

Contents

Acknowledgments:

Dedication

Preface

Chapter 1 – The Escape

Chapter 2 – New Beginnings

Chapter 3 – The Tulsa Horse Show

Chapter 4 – The Oklahoma City Horse Show

Chapter 5 – Oklahoma City, the Finals

Chapter 6 – Bryan’s Visit

Chapter 7 – The Invitation

Chapter 8 – The Texas Dream Trip

Chapter 9 – The Nationals

Chapter 10 – Trouble on the Road

Chapter 11 – College Bound

Chapter 12 – Blazing Glory

Preface

When twelve-year old Kayci Sweeney first lay her eyes on the sleek black horse that was standing in her grandfather’s barn, she knew immediately that this was the horse that had been in her dreams since she was a young child. The dream was always the same. Kayci riding a majestic horse in front of the judges at a national horse competition, with her head held high, while thousands of spectators shouted their support for the girl and her amazing horse.

For Kayci, this was much more than a dream. It was a fact. Someday she would make that dream come true, and she knew in her heart that Shiloh would be the horse to do that. Up until now she had ridden older experienced horses that belonged to her grandfather, but she had always yearned to raise a foal and train it herself. This yearling would provide her that opportunity.

With resolution, Kayci plunges forward, and she experiences the adventure of a lifetime with this special horse. In these chapters, you will share in her determination, her hard work, her heartaches, and her triumphs. The close bonds that the girl and her horse form are both heartwarming and deep felt. You will feel it from the beginning. Journey with Kayci and Shiloh as they travel down the road of competition.

Chapter 1 – The Escape

She rolls her aging plump body from side to side in the soft lush grass and pauses for a moment, lifting her eyes to watch the soft billowy clouds drift by in the azure sky above. She focuses on a bird soaring high above, it’s wings spread wide, dipping between the clouds. The cool gentle breeze brushes through her mane and the hair gently ripples.

As she rises, her once muscular legs unfold and this majestic lady stands tall. She looks around, taking in the large expanse of the rolling Oklahoma hills in which she lives. Contentedly she saunters over to the nearby creek for a drink of the cool clean water. All is well in her life.

If this mare could talk, she would tell a story that would sharply contrast the life she leads now. For the retired life that she is experiencing was not always so. They say that a horse has a memory of about four years. For this particular horse, the memories of her earlier life go far beyond those four years and though her first year was filled with anxiety, pain, fear and darkness, a very special relationship molded the rest of her years.

Shiloh, as she was named, was born in the summer of 1960, the result of breeding a large sleek stallion with a red sorrel mare. She had her father’s ebony-black coloring and her mother’s white diamond just below her forelock. A white sock covered her front left foot. The mare called Ruby had given birth alone in her stall sometime around two o’clock a.m. It had been an arduous few hours for her.

As the foal lay quietly beside her mother, shortly after her birth, Shiloh looked around at her surroundings. Some of the other horses were rustling in their stalls, but other than that, all was quiet. After a while, the foal gingerly tried to rise up, but her wobbly legs gave away. It took several tries before she finally stood.

Once up, she triumphantly looked to her mother as if to say, Look at me Mom, I did it! Ruby watched affectionately as her young one stumbled slightly and then lay back down, and as the newborn foal nursed a short time later, the tired mare rested.

As the next year progressed, Shiloh grew at a fast pace and was indeed a beauty. As she pranced around her paddock, her head held high, she showed promise of becoming a stunning show horse. Her sturdy legs and perfect confirmation made her an excellent candidate.

She spent her mornings racing around the pasture, which strengthened and built up her muscles beautifully, and her afternoons grazing and resting under the warm sun. Her flowing mane and a tail that almost touched the ground were full and silky. She was truly a sight to behold.

The day soon came for Shiloh’s owner to begin halter and saddle breaking the yearling. What should have been a slow and steady learning process instead became a torturous ordeal. For you see, this breeder was not a patient man. He intended to break this horse quickly and get her to the upcoming horse sale in Tulsa.

The man knew that she would bring a high price. Shiloh would be his ticket back into big time, or so he thought. After seeing Shiloh, several of the neighboring ranchers had offered to buy the filly, but the man refused. He knew quality when he saw it and would hold off selling her until the sale where he knew the big buyers would be present.

This breeder had his crude ways, but it was well known that he had produced horses with impeccable bloodlines, and his yearlings, for a time, were sought after. The past several years, though, for one reason or another, had not netted a good foal like this one. Three stillborn’s had resulted. Shiloh’s healthy arrival had spurned the spirits of the old rancher and he had high hopes that this filly would turn his luck around.

As the owner approached the filly for the first time in the round pen, his gruff voice startled the young horse. To this point she’d had little contact with any human other than the woman who came in to feed her twice a day. The woman rarely spoke and although she was not an unkind woman, she did not offer any affection to the young horse. She was merely there to do chores.

How Shiloh ended up in the round pen on the day she was to be halter broke was an accident on horse’s part, but had been carefully planned by the man. He had earlier placed a fresh bale of hay inside the pen on the far side and opened the gate wide, knowing that the young horse would enter to eat the hay. And that is exactly what she did. Eagerly seeking out the fragrant hay, she began chomping greedily on this newfound treat.

As the rancher entered and closed the gate, he began to circle around the filly with a strange apparatus in his hand. Shiloh looked up and her ears went back in fearful anticipation. Sensing his urgent demeanor, she backed up and attempted to run. The man had her cornered and reached up to throw something around her neck. The frightened horse reared and lurched herself forward. She knocked the man to his knees and frantically ran around in the pen, looking for an escape, but there was none.

The man grew angry as he labored to his feet, and began to yell at the horse, which only served to further agitate Shiloh. The breeder was determined to get the halter on this horse and he didn’t care how he had to do it. He hustled over to the gate of the round pen and grabbed a rope that was hanging on the post. He quickly knotted the rope into a large loop and as the frightened horse ran past him, he caught her with the rope around the neck and pulled with all his strength. The horse jerked back with the tightness of the rope and fell to her knees. As she struggled to get up, the man descended upon her and roughly threw the halter over her head and fastened it.

You’ll do this my way, horse! the man shouted at the terrified animal.

Once the halter was on, and a lead rope attached, the man released the rope around Shiloh’s neck. It had been held so tightly that some of the neck hair had rubbed off in the struggle. By this time the horse was tired, panting and sweating.

As luck would have it, the woman approached the pen calling to the man that he was needed elsewhere. He unhooked the lead rope and left the bewildered horse standing in the small arena in the hot sun, no water in sight. Here Shiloh would spend most of the day.

As she paced the round pen, searching for a blade of grass, she was confused. She had spent so many months by her mother’s side and had never experienced such savage treatment. She had been weaned for quite some time, but today she longed again to be in the safety of her mother’s presence.

The halter was still on and it felt stiff and uncomfortable to the horse. She shook her head a few times trying to remove it, but it held fast. Near sundown, Shiloh heard voices as the couple approached the pen. Fearfully, she backed up to the far side of the arena, not sure of what would happen.

Get her back t’the stall, but don’t feed her. Mebbe if she goes without a few meals, she’ll know I mean business, snapped the man who was still in a foul mood.

I would think she’d be more cooperative if ya calmed down a bit and didn’t treat her so rough, retorted the woman. After all, this is very new to her.

She was not an overly emotionally woman, but knew the difference between working a horse and being cruel. She rarely gave her opinion, because she knew it would be ignored, but this time she had her say as she fastened a lead rope and led the filly out of the round pen.

Ya gotta use patience, and not a heavy hand, said the woman.

As she headed to the barn, her husband could be heard muttering to himself, obviously disagreeing with the woman.

Once back in her stall, Shiloh began to relax a bit. The woman did not hold back the mare’s evening feeding as her husband had ordered, and the horse hungrily ate the grain. The fresh cold water in her bucket tasted especially good, and soothed her parched throat. Later she munched on a section of hay and settled down for the night.

As the sun rose early the next day, Shiloh paced in her stall, eager to get out into her pasture. Usually the woman would show up with morning grain, and when the meal was finished, she would let the horse out into a paddock area that opened up to the fenced-in meadow. Shiloh would first run the entire length of the fence and then romp in the grass before settling down to graze. It had been her routine for many months.

This particular morning, though, she sensed something different. The woman didn’t come. Instead, the man walked into the barn. Shiloh waited for the grain to be poured into her feed bucket, but there was no food. She watched warily, as the man removed a large saddle from its rack and carried it out of the barn. He returned a few minutes later with the rope that she recognized from the day before. It was the lead rope that had been attached to the halter that she was still wearing.

Her stall door clamored open and the man entered. Before she could protest, he had the rope clipped onto the metal ring of the halter and he was leading the horse out of the stall. As they left the barn and headed to the round pen, the horse pulled her head back several times, still not used to the contraption that was wrapped around her head. A firm jerk by the man’s rope pulled her head down each time. As they reached the gate of the pen, Shiloh halted, afraid to enter. She firmly planted her feet and refused to move.

I figured ya might fight me a bit t’day, but you’ll soon be over that, voiced the man gruffly.

With that, he drew out a whip from his back pocket and harshly swung it across the horse’s rump. The surprised Shiloh whinnied in pain, reared, and tried to back up. Again the whip came down over her. This time she bolted into the pen, dragging the man with her. This further angered him and he brought the whip down again. Shiloh didn’t fight back this time. She was too frightened to move. Her eyes were dilated, her ears pinned back and she stood waiting for the next blow. Instead she was led to the side of the pen and tied up to the rail with a short lead rope. She watched the man from the corner of her eye, painfully aware of his movements.

When he turned to her, he was carrying the large saddle. Shiloh had no idea what this was. The man approached her, set the saddle down on its horn in the dirt and attempted to throw a saddle blanket up onto her back. The horse kicked and tried to break free from the rail. This time she felt the whip crack across her back legs.

Knock it off, you stupid horse! screamed the man, what little patience he had now gone.

The horse abruptly stood silently and hung her head. She didn’t understand any of this. Now the saddle was lifted into the air and found its way up onto her back. The weight of the heavy saddle felt awkward and the horse sidestepped. Shiloh wanted this strange thing off of her and was determined to remove it any way that she could.

In one quick move, catching the man totally off guard, the horse jerked her head back. She gave one mighty pull and threw her body around to the left. The force of it broke the lead rope from the halter, and left the broken metal ring dangling. The man was knocked to the ground. Seeing that the pen gate was still open, Shiloh bolted to it and before the man could recover his composure, she was racing across the pasture at breakneck speed.

Scrambling to his feet, the man began to holler, but Shiloh ran faster, knowing that she had to get away from him. At one point, the uncinched saddle flew off and landed in the grass with a thud. The blanket followed a few feet later.

Nearing the property line, Shiloh spotted the barbed wire fence and never gave it a second thought. Fortunately, a post was broken and the old fence wire was bent down low. As she approached the structure, her body lifted into the air and she sailed over it. She continued to flee, not yet feeling safe. Farther and farther into the meadow she went, unaware of where she was headed. Instinct kept her going. She ran for almost two hours. Though her legs ached, she sped past trees, jumped a small brook and finally, with sheer exhaustion, came to a stop at the foot of a large rocky hill.

Her nostrils flared, trying to suck in all the air that she could. Her heart was pounding and the sweat was rolling off of her body. She gasped in pain as her legs finally collapsed. She was acutely aware of her surroundings, and was half expecting to see the cruel owner running toward her. It was many hours before the spent horse could breath normally.

Lying on the gravel ground many hours later, her ears prickled at the unfamiliar noises of the evening. She had never spent an evening out of her stall. Her senses were especially keen this fearful night and sleep would not come. The night seemed to last forever. The sounds of the wailing coyotes, screeching owls and rustling raccoons were new to her. In the safety of her stall, all she had ever heard were crickets, the purring of the barn cat, and the sounds of the other resting horses.

Every new sound frightened Shiloh. Although horses have no problem seeing in the dark, the mare’s heart leaped at every new noise she heard. As the morning sun peered over the hills to her left, the hungry horse rose up and looked around her. She had never had to forage for food before, and was unsure of where she was. She faced the hill and began to make her way up the sometime steep trail. As she heard the more familiar clamor of the chirping birds, her fear began to diminish. Food was her main focus now. She had not eaten anything the previous day, and the dirt and stone path offered nothing edible

As she approached the top of the hilly mound, the young horse could see a valley ahead with patchy green grass, trees for shade, and a winding river. Shiloh’s pace hastened. The thought of food and water lifted her spirits. The path down the side of the hill was rockier than before, and twice