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45140

Happy birthday!

In my head there is this place. I call it Stone Ranch though it's been awhile since anyone carrying the Stone name has lived there. Millie's aunt Abra was the last one and she married into the family at a young age. Abra's children passed before she did, so the property was handed down to her sister in law's granddaughter. This was for two reasons. One, she was the only family left. And two, she was madly in love with the man who ran the glasswork, and he wanted to buy the land with or without the family tie.

One random day, that happened to be a Wednesday, Millie and her friends were out playing in the river out back when they saw something unexpected. Falling from the blue sky, what should they see, but a man in a parachute.

Fetching out of the water the swimsuit clad ladies pulled on only shoes to go investigate. Laughing and calling their curiosity back and forth between them the girls headed over the fence and out into the field.

It didn't take long for the visitor to float down within calling range. Closer still and one by one the girls started to recognize the man. It was Millie's father, Chris, come to visit with no warning for her. Someone knew though, cause by the time the jumper landed a dust plume marked a truck headed there way.

Tumbling into the patchy shale the older man rose laughing to his feet, not bothering yet with the ropes behind him as he scooped up his baby girl in a hug.

There must have been some conversation, cause that's how stories move forward, but I try to avoid talking to myself. The long and short of it... Dad dropped in for dinner.

Happy birthday, have a wonderful day and enjoy yourself!

43830

The old man and I, we have a daily routine. The old man rattles up to the barn in his rust-red truck, shadowy smoke wisping from the exhaust pipe. I raise my head from grazing and arch my back to stretch. The old man steps out of his truck and stretches too. We both groan. Time abuses man and beast both.
The old man shuffles into the barn and his fingers peruse the oily leather of a row of bridles. They stop at mine, and I hear the bit jingle as the old man slips it off the hook. There are many younger and stronger horses in the barn, but this old man has trained me and raised me with his own hands. We know each other.
After I'm saddled, the old man bends his hunched back and rests his hands on his knees. Getting on isn't easy, and it's getting harder every morning. As he pulls his foot into the stirrup and I brace against his weight as he begins the tedious effort of pulling himself up by the horn, I remember the days that he could vault onto my bare back from the ground. My bones creak and protest as his weight settles on my back, and I remember when I would bolt before his right foot touched the stirrup.
We begin the daily circuit to check the fences and sort the herds. New foals play in the grass, and the old man and I stop to watch. The old man seems proud of them, and I feel a little proud too. I was around to watch their dams grow up, after all.
We return to the barn, and the old man takes the bit from my mouth. His fingers hesitate on the leather, reluctant to hang it back on the shelf. I know him, and he knows me, and we both know we are wondering the same question. How many more of these mornings do we have left? The old man's gnarled fingers leave the bridle to scratch my ears briefly, and he shuffles back to his rattletrap truck and disappears down the drive. I am left to wait for the next morning's routine.

Not entering , also hopeless at writing stories :P
Just wanted to say Happy Birthday <:-P

Happy birthday!
42305

An old Ford flatbed pulls up to the gate. A little blonde girl, skinny as a rail, with big glasses, a ponytail, and dirty jeans, hops out and opens it. Her daddy drives the truck through and on up to the top of the hill where feed buckets are scattered out. They quietly dish out groceries for the twenty odd broodmares plus babies that are about to come thundering from all directions for their much awaited supper. The pasture is big, over a hundred acres, most of the mares don't know they are there yet, but some have heard the truck and are making their way out of the creek bottom and up to the truck.

The feed is in the buckets, time to call the horses in. Daddy lays on the truck horn a couple times and lets out a couple long whistles. He looks at his little girl. "You know they won't come up til you call em, Gracie." he says, knowing full well the mares are already on their way from the first honk. Gracie lets out a whistle that's pretty much a squeal instead of a whistle. She's not quite learned how to whistle yet, but it doesn't matter! Here comes the herd, running, bucking, kicking, and playing up the hill for suppertime. It's her favorite thing ever!

When the horses are settled down nicely, they walk through the herd, looking over every mare and patting heads, checking each horse over. They come to Gracie's favorite mare of the bunch, Stolen Song. She's a big dark chestnut with a blaze face and two socks on her hinds. Daddy sets Gracie up on Stolen while the mare quietly eats her groceries. She's got a little filly by her side that looks the spitting image of her mama. She's only about a month old with long legs and a sassy streak in her a mile wide. Little Gracie's eyes dance as she watches the filly try to figure out why she's on her mamas back. She's in love.

Daddy sees the fire in his little girls eyes as she looks at the filly. The same fire in the filly's eyes as she looks at the little girl. "Gracie, did you know that baby is going to be a racehorse?"
"She's gonna be the best one, Daddy!"
"What should we name her, baby girl?"
"Um, I'm not sure. You pick." she replied happily.
"We will call her Gracie. RoLa Gracie's Song, to be exact. And when she races, we will be there to cheer her on. When she retires from racing, you can teach her how to run barrels and poles, and take her trail riding and do anything you want to with her because she will always be yours."

And so it came to pass. Twenty one years later, she's in my pasture happily munching grass and still being sassy. We have been inseparable.

Thank you for the birthday wishes! I'm really enjoying all the stories!

first of all, happy birthday!
here goes my attempt at a story. :))

the little girl burst eagerly through the front door, her mother had jus told her the great news. a new foal, colt to be more specific. it was her favourite mare, Raging Storms, that was the mother. Yet to the little girl that made it all the more exciting.
running as fast as her eight year old legs could carry her towards the barn, its musty smell had been home to the little gir for aslong as she could rememeber.

throwing open the door she ran up to the stable door, down the seemingly endless hallway before finally she reached the stable door. panting she placed her finger tips on the cold, metal of the top of the door trying desperately to peer over the top. she sighed, annoyed, she couldnt quite pull herself up to peer inside so she looked around trying to find something to stand on. 'bingo' she thought as her hazel eyes locked onto a stool. walking over she pulled her unbrushed, auburn hair back into a pony tail before picking up the stool and waddling over to the dorr trying not to trip over as she went.
finally after what felt like an eternity the stool was placed under the stable door, she stood on it eagerly before looking inside to see the most stunning colt she had ever laid eyes upon, she gasped quietly in awe of its delicate frame, how could one thing so small growl up to be something so powerful? she often wondered that...

"would you like to see him Annabel?" a soothing voice said "yes please mummy!" she whisper shouted trying to contain her excitement. "alrighty" the older woman chuckled before lifting her off the stool and opening the stable door. the colt nickered softly before boldly making his way over, his mother watching him closely.
she reached out and placed her hand on the colts nose enjoying how soft it felt.
Annabel knew, this would be the first of many memories...

Aram Spoon DPDP

this is the colt^^

edit: whoops forgot to add.
my id is 17754

i had a glitch but i fixed it :)

(I've never been good at keeping a story truly short! And no commentary on the horse's previous in-game owners is intended or implied. lol)



Cloudy Adventures

Cloudy pulled another bite of hay from the rack in the cool silvery light of dawn, waiting for her human and thinking about how different her life was now.

She hadn't been in her new home for long, barely a full turn of the moon. She had been brought in to take the place of a much older gelding who had gone lame, but she didn't know what had happened to him when he left the herd she was brought to when she took his place. None of them did, not really. The others in her new herd had watched as he limped up into the trailer one day with his human, and when the truck and trailer returned the next day, Cloudy was unloaded.

Cloudy never saw the gelding. When she met her new human she was tied up short to a fence, a little stiff and sore from being ridden hard that morning and then left tied for a long time in the hot sun. She had been reluctant to chase the calves that morning so her old human had kicked and spurred her until she was moving fast enough to suit him as she cut the calves off when they tried to run. By the time he finished with her, Cloudy was dripping with sweat from running hard but she was doing her best, trying to avoid another hard kick or a jerk on her mouth when she didn't turn fast enough.

Cloudy hadn't been happy to have a new human untie her and then swing up into her saddle, but she had moved out instantly when his legs nudged her sore ribs. She responded as quickly as she could to his cues, walking, jogging, and then loping around the big arena where the work was done, and she had soon realized he wasn't like the human she had always known.

This new human wore no spurs and he didn't kick her sides so hard it made her grunt, not even bumping her sides with his heels if she moved off the pressure of his leg. The new human didn't jerk her mouth when he wanted her to turn either, instead just laying one rein against her neck, and then when the calves were let out in the arena he had really surprised her. He had pointed her at a calf and then lowered his hand to the saddle horn to let her do the work, moving easily with her and never kicking her or jerking on her mouth like her old human did.

By the time Cloudy was cutting a second calf out from the bunch for the new human she was working extra hard for him, doing her very best so he might want to ride her more. When the new human finally turned her away from the fourth calf with a nudge of one leg and a twitch of her reins, she had been glad to realize he was pleased. He had rubbed her neck and talked to her all the way back to the gate and she had enjoyed listening to his soothing voice.

Cloudy didn't know what to expect when the new human stood at her head, stroking her face while the human she had always known removed her saddle and then her bridle. The new human had put a new kind of halter on her made of rope, pulling it snug behind her ear, then touched hands with her old human and led her away to an unfamiliar trailer. She loaded up without protest, glad the new human was going to take her with him, and she had hoped through the long trailer ride that wherever they were going would be better than what she left behind. It was dark when she was finally unloaded again, but she had been brushed and fed and treated kindly and then she had spent the night in a comfortable stall, hoping she would be allowed to stay.

Life in Cloudy's new home had turned out not to be anything like the old one. In her old home, she had spent all her time since she was first ridden locked in her own small dusty pen with an often-empty water bucket and hay feeder or working in the arena, but now she went on long rides with her new human every other day. He rode her along the fences of a big pasture where cattle roamed, and then they would ride out to find the cows and calves and look at them for ones who were sick or hurt while her human's friends did the same thing in other pastures. If a calf was sick it was Cloudy's job to cut it from the herd and get her rider close enough to rope the calf, then she would guard her rider from the mother cow while her human worked with the calf to make it well again.

Cloudy soon grew to love her working days, spending every moment with her human from sunrise until the hottest part of the day, when they returned home and she was brushed and fed in the shady barn before being turned out again. Her off days were very different though, and she didn't like them as much. On those days her human rode the big bay mare that picked on her the most, leaving Cloudy behind in a pasture with a rack of hay and a giant metal tub of clean water. The bad part was sharing the pasture with the horses that her human's friends rode. They picked on her because she was new and the youngest, but they usually let her eat at the hay rack too as long as she ate from the rack away from the others. On days when they didn't leave room for her at the hay, she would graze on the short grass of the pasture and wait patiently to see her human when he fed her grain to her that evening and brushed her.

Cloudy suddenly heard a door slide open and moved away from the hay, looking towards the barn as she swallowed a bite of hay. Her human was walking out with his three friends, all of them carrying saddles and bridles and talking quietly, and Cloudy nickered loudly. She leapt into a gallop towards the gate, head up and short tail held high as she went to greet her human. Today it was her turn to go, she knew, and she was glad.

Cloudy's human was grinning as he put her saddle and bridle on the ground outside the fence but his friends weren't happy, grumbling as they opened the gate and walked into the pasture to go catch their own horses who still stood at the hay, ignoring them completely. Cloudy's human never had to go after her and the others picked on him about it some days much the way their horses picked on Cloudy, but Cloudy always went to him anyway. It made her human happy.

Cloudy's human held the gate open when she reached it, grabbing her ragged mane as he let her out, and Cloudly gladly let him lead her even though she could have easily jerked away. Her human was always good to her, much better than her old one, and she liked being with him. He would spend time with her every day, brushing her while she ate a bucket of sweet grain, and sometimes on his one day he didn't ride to check the cattle they would go on rides to other places, roaming free together.

Cloudy's human led her to her saddle and then released her as he murmured to her, and her ears flicked back and forth as she listened. Her human brushed off her back with his hands and then saddled her, making sure everything was fit just right, and when he offered her the bridle she gladly lowered her head to take the smooth sweet-tasting bit she liked so much more than her sharp old one, settling it in her mouth while he buckled the throatlatch. A few moments later her human was swinging up into her saddle and then Cloudy was moving towards the big pasture, ears pricked eagerly as she trotted out.

It was time to go to work.


Happy Birthday, @SeldomSeen! I hope you have an awesome day today. :)

Happy birthday, and thanks for doing this!

My ID is 45703.

Here’s my story, inspired by my FF Shadow Boy.


Shadow Boy

Disclaimer so that I say it before you do: I went fiction with this one, lol! I definitely do not condone small children riding bareback without supervision in real life :))


Darkness. The acrid scent of sweat overrode his senses. Pungent, thick, musty, the odor bore down on his mind as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Other smells began to mingle in his nostrils - hay, oats, manure, wood. His eyelids opened, and a beam of soft white light crossed his face. Yes, that was it. It was nighttime. The moon was shining. The boy sat up and ran a grimy hand through his hair to push it back from his eyes. The barn. That was where he’d fallen asleep.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, the young boy oriented himself by the moonlight and stood up, shaking out the leg that had fallen asleep. Pins and needles coursed over his skin, and his lips curled into a grimace as he regained circulation. Stretching out, he shook the stiffness from his body and the sleep from his eyes. With one careful hand on the inside wall of the room, he took a few careful, quiet steps to bring him to the door. His listened cautiously for any sound that might indicate his mother was looking for him. His father wouldn’t, he knew, but his mother might worry.

Hearing nothing, the boy cautiously pressed on the door to slip out, wincing as it creaked. He paused, hesitant, but the only call to answer his noisemaking was the soft chirp of a cricket. He stepped outside. The fresh night air wafted across his face, soothing the heat and damp from his brow. The scent of newly-cut hay accompanied it, as did the far-away singing of a mockingbird.

The soft clop of hooves caught his attention. He looked to the sound, and his eyes met the figure of the farm’s worker, the big draft. The large horse had approached the barb-wire fence bordering the line between pasture and driveway, and now watched the boy silently. The silver moonlight washed over horse and boy alike, illuminating the black hair of both.

A petal fluttered past, breaking the silent stare between child and draft. The faint scent of apple blossom sweetened the air. The boy took a step forward. The horse watched. The boy took another step, his foot finding a divot in the ground, but rather than lose his balance he took another step, and another. His feet brought him to the fence, nothing but the thin prickled wire separating him from the horse that was ten times his size. The stallion huffed at the boy’s hair, sniffing it gently. The exhale of breath filled the boy’s nose with the smell of horse mouth and cut grass, a scent soothing if not traditionally pleasant. For the boy, it smelled like a friend. This was a horse he knew, for even though he was not allowed near the working horses by day, they were his friends by night. They were his escape, his freedom. No matter what reason might cause him to fall asleep with tears in his eyes, the horses would wash every worry away.

Slipping through the fence, the boy stepped into the pasture and ran a hand down the stallion’s neck. The slick black hide quivered at his light touch, and the draft swished his thick tail, turning his head to look at the boy beside him. Big brown eyes met little ones, and the boy leaned forward and touched his forehead to the stallion’s, exhaling as he felt the stress leave his body in a rush. Tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away, fighting them back down. He swallowed the lump in his throat, pressing past the joy and relief he felt from meeting with his friend as he had done for many nights, and instead focusing on leading the draft alongside the fence. All it took was a hand under the horse’s chin, for this horse knew and trusted the boy as much as the boy did him. The horse was too large for him to climb on without aid of the fence, but the horse stood patiently by as the boy deftly climbed up and on.

The wind whispered softly over horse and boy, telling tales of wild lands. They stood, together, then with smooth motion the boy leaned forward and the draft’s feet caught the earth, digging forward. Thick hooves that pulled plow by day now plowed the earth themselves this night, pushing horse and rider forward into the breeze. The steady thump of the walk became the heartbeat of the run, and the wind whipped up into a wild frenzy as the coarse mane stung the boy’s face. He leaned forward, pressing his petite body into the back of the stocky horse, urging him faster. This horse might never win races, he knew, but in the boy’s mind he was the champion to win them all.

The boy’s imagination traveled far beyond the pasture, to distant lands. The hum of a bustling racetrack, the thunderous applause as millions leapt to their feet, cheering on the new victor of the ages. The wind whistled in his ears, deafening him, the same wind that traveled the races and hailed champions, the same wind that, years from now, would tousle the hair of him and his racehorse as they stood to receive their medals. He knew it, in his heart, that his place would always be with his horses, and his dreams ran wild with them. He knew, too, with some small part of his growing mind, that perhaps that exact dream would not come true - but for now, his dreams would set him free.

This sounds fun so I'm going to give it a go
ID - 36894

I stand watching, trembling, waiting, the moon was almost directly over head I know she is waiting to. Sheltered from view by the stringy bark trees stood a magnificent blue roan few spot paint horse stallion standing still & silent, watching, waiting. Finally the moon was directly above him and he stepped out on to the snow covered ground making no sound or hoof prints as he walked to the window, tapping his nose gently on the glass just loud enough for her to hear a few seconds later she opened the window & slid out of her room quietly, I start walking away from her window then when we are out of hearing range I stop & turn watching, waiting for her then I lie in the snow for her to get on & we race away mending together as one as we gallop through the silver world. She is special there is something about her that makes her different from others, she is gentle & kind, she can understand me just like I can understand her & together we gallop for ages until she silently tells me she needs to get back so I do a spin & race back the way we came. We get back to her window all to soon & i lie down so she can dismount. She touches my forehead both of us giving a silent promise then I turn away & walk back towards the stringy bark trees, at the edge of the stringy bark I stop & turn back to her my mane, tail & forelock blowing gently in the wind, rearing a silent goodbye, then I gallop silently away back to the mountains. There I stay watching, waiting. I am king of the brumbles.


3g Snf Midnight Snowflake
(this is not exactly him but it is the closest looking horse I have)
I hope you enjoyed & had a
perfect birthday <:-P :D

Who won?

Congrats on the new pup, @SeldomSeen! I adopted a dog for my last birthday, too! Awesome way to spend a birthday! :D

Awesome congrats on the puppy dog! and the winner!