Post by Cruisey on Mar 21, 2015 14:36:37 GMT -5
DANCING ON NAILS && SAMMIE PICKETT
Dancing On Nails; that’s exactly who the chestnut horse on the track was. A real nightmare in the stables is what Dudley is. He hadn’t even been at the farm for more than 48 hours and yet he had still managed to chew through two lead ropes and half of his shipping halter. Carter had acquired the colt at an unknown auction in Canada, and had made the spontaneous trip overnight with the permission of Kiana and Ryan. Not much was known about Dudley, but all Carter knew was that this horse was a keeper. The plan was to just let him relax on the track and get used to his new surroundings. Luckily, his trainer at Woodbine Racetrack had already started him and it was just up to Carter to get him to break his maiden.
He hated that he had to pair Dudley with Sammie; not because of the pairing, but because Sammie would be near him again. The massive chestnut sprinter was spirited and pulled on the bit as Sammie mounted the horse for the first time. Dudley carried the blood of a racehorse and the mindset of one too. Given he was a sprinter and a stalker, drive was a more desirable thing than intelligence. Though when Carter first saw him run, he knew Dudley knew his own power and was able to overcome anything thrown in his path.
“Take him and just gallop him for three furlongs, get him used to the place.” Sammie nodded without looking Carter in the eye. She turned the colt away and clucked him forwards, and Dudley stepped onto USA turf for the first time. His strides were long and springy as he trotted his way across the turf. Sammie leaned forward, riding his strides with ease. His work ethic definitely reminded her of the turf version of Red Herring. When she was ready, she gave Dudley a notch of rein and he jolted forward, legs working quickly and efficiently. His ears worked back and forth trying to detect any sound from his rider or anything around him. Horse and rider went for the inside rail very quickly, leaving about one horse width at most between them and the rail. Dudley did his best as a pest; he'd stay just barely behind the leaders, not letting them drive him any faster than the minimum needed.
Hooves thundered under Sammie as they tore up the turf, wind in their faces. This horse had speed,and he was taking everything asked of him in stride. Sammie leaned down more and let Dudley’s mane whip at her face. There was certainly no ‘easy pace’ happening. What Carter wanted wasn’t what he was going to get. Instead of Sammie taking charge, Dudley was in full command at his speed. It may have looked like they were going turtle speed, but in reality they were probably flying past the onlookers. Some could say he wasn't a strong stalker, but at the end of the race, he had more power than most of the frontrunners, and that power should be channelled whenever needed.
They crossed the marker and just like that and their easy workout was done. Sammie almost felt out of breath at the amount of power in the colt as they went back to Carter. His eyes were wide and he was rubbing his face. Sammie was confused, why did he look like he wanted to shoot himself?
“God that is one mighty fine sprinter.” Carter grumbled, and they made their way back to the stable.
He hated that he had to pair Dudley with Sammie; not because of the pairing, but because Sammie would be near him again. The massive chestnut sprinter was spirited and pulled on the bit as Sammie mounted the horse for the first time. Dudley carried the blood of a racehorse and the mindset of one too. Given he was a sprinter and a stalker, drive was a more desirable thing than intelligence. Though when Carter first saw him run, he knew Dudley knew his own power and was able to overcome anything thrown in his path.
“Take him and just gallop him for three furlongs, get him used to the place.” Sammie nodded without looking Carter in the eye. She turned the colt away and clucked him forwards, and Dudley stepped onto USA turf for the first time. His strides were long and springy as he trotted his way across the turf. Sammie leaned forward, riding his strides with ease. His work ethic definitely reminded her of the turf version of Red Herring. When she was ready, she gave Dudley a notch of rein and he jolted forward, legs working quickly and efficiently. His ears worked back and forth trying to detect any sound from his rider or anything around him. Horse and rider went for the inside rail very quickly, leaving about one horse width at most between them and the rail. Dudley did his best as a pest; he'd stay just barely behind the leaders, not letting them drive him any faster than the minimum needed.
Hooves thundered under Sammie as they tore up the turf, wind in their faces. This horse had speed,and he was taking everything asked of him in stride. Sammie leaned down more and let Dudley’s mane whip at her face. There was certainly no ‘easy pace’ happening. What Carter wanted wasn’t what he was going to get. Instead of Sammie taking charge, Dudley was in full command at his speed. It may have looked like they were going turtle speed, but in reality they were probably flying past the onlookers. Some could say he wasn't a strong stalker, but at the end of the race, he had more power than most of the frontrunners, and that power should be channelled whenever needed.
They crossed the marker and just like that and their easy workout was done. Sammie almost felt out of breath at the amount of power in the colt as they went back to Carter. His eyes were wide and he was rubbing his face. Sammie was confused, why did he look like he wanted to shoot himself?
“God that is one mighty fine sprinter.” Carter grumbled, and they made their way back to the stable.
