By: Shaina Horowitz

It’s windier than I thought it would be today. The waves from the beach seem to stretch their icy fingers towards me, the grassy field not providing much protection from the coldness. Cantering along, the pounding of Meppen’s hooves on the hardened ground fills my ears, a deafening entrancing rhythm. My breath is lost in the layers of wind, making my beating heart seem an effortless miracle.

By: Vicki Scammell

“Vicki, Vicki wake up the barn is burning!”

“Yeah whatever.”

“Vicki the house may catch on fire too. GET UP.”

That was the beginning of the most terrifying four hours of my life.

The night of January 10, 1996 had started off like any other evening on my farm. I had my two barns of chores to do and then I planned to go out. I was in hurry because I didn’t want to be late to meet with my friends, so I rushed about my barn doing my chores. Chores consisted of the care of one hundred and seven cattle and our three wonderful horses: Clover, Smokey and Flicka.

By Charli Ann Stevens

Have you ever met a horse that was absolutely destined to be yours—yours not only once, but twice and forever more?

By: Sue Moss

When our youngest daughter was 9 years old, her Dad bought her a 5 year- old Quarter Horse gelding. Miranda named her horse Buddy. And that’s what he quickly became to her. She would spend hours with him, brushing, trimming, leading, playing with, and simply talking to him. She enjoyed riding him as well, of course, but for Miranda the greater joy was in sharing her thoughts with him. He displayed the greatest “horsonality”, always listening, never criticizing.

Miranda enjoyed Buddy for many years, competing in gymkhana events and joining a musical riding club, as well as going on many pleasure rides.

By: Kimberley Tadder

Like many girls, I badgered my parents for a horse. I got my first horse, a pony, when I was in seventh grade. I did everything with “Duke”, the county fair, parades, and trail rides. As I got older and was outgrowing Duke, I started pestering my parents for a full size horse. When I was a freshman in high school they finally gave in and we started looking for a horse.

By: C.M. Jones

I think she was about thirteen when she started to dry her wings
Trying out new ways of thinking while she tried to plan her dreams
She lived in the city she was just another kid.

Her friends trying to make her do things she often wondered why she did Her home was an apartment up about four flights of stairs
And from the condition of the building it sure showed nobody cared
Well as fate would have it she found herself alone.

But she had herself an uncle who offered her a home.

By: Elizabeth Clark

I awoke and looked over to my left where my sisters bed was. It was empty and I inwardly scolded myself. Usually I awoke the exact same moment I heard my sister get up, even if I was in a dead sleep. I quickly got out of bed wondering how long my sister had been up and with the horses. As soon as I was dressed, I rushed outside. The morning was clear and smelled fresh of spring. I heard the birds singing their sweet spring song but I heard a hint of something else in their song.

By: Karen Bragg

We met him on a cold, crisp December day. His owner was a college student desperate to find him a home before Christmas Vacation ended, and my four-year-old daughter was equally desperate to have her own pony. When we saw him for the first time he was standing in a field looking at us. At least, from the glow in his eyes through his thick coat, you could surmise he was looking at us. Dad got on him bareback with just a halter and lead rope and cantered across the pasture without getting bucked off, so we figured he’d be okay for Katie. That is how Rebel came into our lives.

By: Jenny

As a little kid, I always imagined myself owning a light silvery grey horse with a black mane and tail and black points. We would win all sorts of ribbons and awards, eyes would turn to look at us, the girl on her handsome grey steed. I never forgot that fantasy, keeping it in my heart.

By: Hannah Driskell

I have a story that you might be able to use for the new book called
Chicken Soup For The Horse Lovers Soul. It is about my 7 year old arabian
gelding that had a terrible accident last spring. This is how it goes.
Since I was 2 years old my dream was to ride horses. That dream came
true on my sixth birthday. I took my first lesson and loved it. I have been
riding ever since. I have now been riding for almost 7 years. Last winter I
outgrew my pony I have had for three years.