The Story Of Classy(Claire Stockman) The Story Of Classy

Pictures: Grace And Mary Stockman
Author: Claire Stockman

Contents

1. Free And Wild
2. CAUGHT!!
3. Trained
4. Champion!


Chapter 1.
Hi I'm Classy. I'm wild and free. I love to gallop. I live in the wilderness with a herd of wild horses. We call ourselves the Wild And Free Arabians.

That's right, I'm an Arabian. I am different than the other horses in Wild And Free Arabians. I like to stand and watch the sun rise and set, while they like to roll in the dirt and get dirty. I like to gallop and trot, while they lag along behind me walking. I'm playful and they like to sleep. So I am alone, a lot! I gallop across the meadow.

“Slow down,” yell the other horses.

“But I want to gallop. You should try galloping!” I yell. I trot, then I walk, then I stop. I wait. “Hurry up,” I yell.

The other horses speed up to a gallop. And they all gallop in the moonlight. “I'm tired!” complains one of the horses. “I'm hungry,” whines one of the other horses. Complaint after complaint!

“Alright we can stop,” I finally agree. The horses stop to rest. I just gallop around a tree. “Are you done resting?” I ask over and over.

“No,” say the horses. Finally they all get up. “Do you hear that?” says one horse.

“Yes thats odd. We should go,” says another horse. The others gallop away.

“Why are you galloping?” I yell. The other horses don't answer. I ask one more time. “Where are you going?” And again no horse answers. I keep asking on and on until suddenly I stop. What's that noise? It sounds like clip-clop, clip-clop. I stop and listen some more. It gets louder and louder. Then I see an enormous shadow. “It looks like a horse. But wait, what's that on top of the horse?” I whisper to myself. I see a horse with a human riding it, galloping straight towards me! I take off at a gallop.

“NOOO!!” I cry as I gallop. I feel my legs shake. “I have to stop. I can't move anymore. I'm too tired,” I whisper. I stop and lay down. The horse and rider come galloping up to me. I whinny in fright.

The rider gets off and says “Easy, girl. Easy, girl. I won't harm you.”

The human smiled. I look up. I whinny.

“It's alright girl,” she says. The human has a huge grin and brown hair in a ponytail. She owned two horses. One was the horse she was riding.

The girl said, “My name is Casey. Hmm, what should I name you?”

I whinny “My name is Classy!” But the human can't understand me very well.

“Chassy? Sassy?” said Casey as she gently and carefully puts a hot pink halter and lead rope on me. I softly shake my head to say no. Casey tied the lead rope to her saddle and got on the saddle. “Hmm. I got it! Classy!”

I get up and try to run away. But I realize I made a mistake. No!!! What is this tight thing wrapped around my head, I think. I rear. Casey makes her horse walk. But I won't budge.


Chapter 2.

“Come on girl.” Says Casey. After pulling and pulling, I walk. Casey makes her horse canter!

“Go! Good boy Pistol!” Yells Casey while the horse is cantering.

After it seems like two hours we see a barn and head towards it. At the barn Casey gets off. I rear!

“Where am I!!” I cry.

The horse next to me says “Well, you're at jolly old Sunset Creeks. That's our farm.”

I ignore the horse and rear. “Get me out of here!” I say.

Casey gets off the saddle and takes the lead rope off. She leads me into a stall and unhooks the lead rope. She puts hay in the horse stalls. When Casey leaves the barn, I kick the back of the stall.

“If you're trying to break out, it won't work,” says a kind horse.

“Who are you?” I ask.
“Well, my name is Betsy. And that sorrel horse is named Pistol,” says the horse.
“Hi,” says Pistol.
“Hi,” I mumble. Pistol and Betsy go to eat their hay.
“Try it,” says Betsy while having a mouthful of hay.
“No way,” I scream!
“You really should try it. It's good!!” says Pistol.
“Ugh! Okay, just this once.” I say. I take a nibble of hay. “Wow! This is good,” I gobble it and gobble it and gobble it until all the hay is gone.
“Wow. You must like hay.” says Betsy and Pistol. Later in the afternoon, I see Casey coming. I close my eyes and turn around so I can't see her. “Who's that with her?” I ask.
“It's the vet, silly,” answers Betsy. The vet walks in the barn.
“I caught this wild Arabian in the woods. So can you check her and see if she is healthy,” asks Casey.
“Sure! She sure is pretty,” says the vet.
“Thanks,” Casey says.
The vet walks in my stall and pulls out weird looking stuff called “vet tools”. The vet examines me. Then she walks
out of the stall and says that I am healthy. Then she leaves.

Casey walks up to me and says, “Time to train you.” She puts a saddle pad on my back. I stay still. “Good girl, Classy.” says Casey. She puts a saddle on me.
“I thought it would take months to train you! But you seem trained to me,” says Casey.
I whinny in disgust. She puts a bridle on me. I twitch my ears. She leads me out into the arena. She gets on me.
“What are you doing on me!” I yell. I buck and buck and buck.
“Ahhhhhh,” screams Casey. I hear her scream. I stop. She makes me walk. I walk.
“Good girl,” says Casey.
“Trot,” says Casey. I trot.
“Canter,” says Casey. I canter.
“Stop,” says Casey. I stop. She gets off and leads me inside to my stall.
“I watched that,” says Betsy when Casey left.
“Me too,” says Pistol.
“You did!” I exclaim!
“Was I good?” I ask.
“You were breath taking,” says Betsy.
“I think you should've-” Pistol begins to say.
Betsy nips Pistol and whispers to him “Don't say that.”
“What did you say,” I ask.
“Nothing. I didn't hear a thing,” answers Betsy.
“Oh,” I say. “That was fun!” I exclaim.
“I thought you said you were 'wild'.” says Pistol.
“I am. Well I thought I was.” I say.
“But you seem to be tame.” adds Betsy.
“Yes. And I feel that this is my life. How I'm supposed to be.” I say.
“I think so too,” says Pistol.
“You think so?” I say. “Absolutely.”
Answers Betsy and Pistol.

I whinny with happiness. “It's getting late. You should go to sleep.” says Betsy. “Okay.” I say. The next morning, Casey comes and feeds us hay and water. “Yay! Hay! Water!” I exclaim. We eat the hay and drink the water. “That was good,” Classy, Betsy and Pistol say. Then Casey gets the tack and carries it into my stall. She puts the saddle pad on, the saddle on and the bridle on. She leads me out into the arena. She gets on me. She makes me walk. I walk. I whinny in delight. “Good girl, Classy!” says Casey. “Lets try barrel racing at a trot.


Chapter 4.

“I like that.” I say when I get in my stall.
“It's called barrel racing.” says Pistol.
“Well then I like to barrel race,” I say.
“There is some hay for you in your stall.” says Betsy.
“Yay!” I say. I go to the back of my stall and scarf my hay down. “I love hay. I love my life.” I say.
Betsy yawns. “I'm tired,” says Betsy.
“Me too,” says Pistol.
“I'm not,” I say. Betsy and Pistol go to sleep. I stay awake and alert.

In the morning, I wake up first. I see that Casey already gave me hay. I look over the piece of wood that seperates the stalls. I see that Casey didn't give Betsy any hay! Then I hear Casey humming and she walks in the barn. I whinny with joy.

She says “Girl! I just got a call from the president of the champion barrel racer league! They said that they saw us barrel racing and thought that's the best barrel racing I've ever seen! So now we have to bring you to Maryland where the stables for the horses in the league stay.” I whinny in surprise.
“Oh my goodness! I'm a champion barrrel racer!” I exclaim.
“Congratulations!” says Betsy, Pistol and Dino.
“Thanks!” I say.


Casey hooks the lead rope to my halter. She leads me outside in the driveway. I see a huge grey and white thing attached to a huge red thing with wheels and doors that Casey calls a truck and a trailer. “Lets get you in the trailer.” says Casey. “Dad! Can you open the ramp on the trailer for me?” Casey yells. “Sure!” yells Casey's dad. Casey's dad puts the ramp and gets in the big red truck and waits. Casey leads me into the trailer and ties my leadrope to a hook. She puts a hay bag in front of me so I can eat. I eat slowly. Then I slowly feel the trailer move and I say “Bye!” to the other horses. “Bye!” they yell.

I look through the closed window. It's weird out there. Why are we on a thing that's black with a yellow line down the middle of it, I wonder.

After 3 days of going down the black thing with a yellow line down it we stop at a stable. Casey's dad drives in the stables driveway. He stops and Casey and her dad get out and unlatch the doors and put down the ramp for me to get out of the trailer. She leads me in a stall that says 'Classy' in golden words on it. Casey takes my leadrope off and my halter off. I hear Casey say “Tommorow is a champion barrel racing horse show. I am going to entered Classy in it.” to her dad. ”I will be there.” says her dad. The next day, Casey puts tack on me.

“And now another barrel racer, Casey and Classy!” says the announcer. She leads me out into a enourmous barrel racing arena. I gallop and flow through barrel racing pattern.
The judge was timing me. “It was 4.2 seconds!” says the announcer. I whinny with joy! “That's my best time ever!” I yell. I whinny with happiness again. We walk out of the arena and Casey whispers “Good girl” in my ear.
Casey leads me in my stall. She takes my tack off and feeds me and waters me. Then she goes to watch the other horses. I drink and eat and drink and eat.


Then all of the sudden I hear: “And here are the placings! In sixth place is Kaleb and Zenny. In fifth place is Zack and Austin. In fourth place is Melissa and Irish. In third place is Megan and Ellie. In second place is Jae and Komoka. In first place is Doug and Hank. And our reserve champion barrel racer of the year is Sophia and Wally! And our grand champion barrel racer of the year is...”

The crowd goes silent waiting for the announcer to announce the grand champion. “Casey and Classy!” finishes the announcer.

Casey cries tears of joy and kisses me on the forehead.

“I love you Classy!” Casey says. Casey hugged her new trophy tight.

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