|
Last Night :: Every Night :: Tomorrow Night
the sport of horse racing
2001-12-19
The horses raced around a small arena. Xandy was a grey. Quickly, a friend on her horse pulled to the front of the race. Then, Xandy, my mom riding, started gaining. "Come on Xandy!" my mom urged. He caught up with the friend, a little Arab with a lot of speed. He had some sort of empty plastic syringes caught in his tail. Quickly, he was out ahead. Soon after, he was far in the lead, mom urging him on. The audience cheered. Phyllis noted he had a "dry mouth". Suddenly, he went down. I ran to my mom. She was all right. Xandy lay motionless. I ran towards him. The friend, who had quickly stopped and dismounted, along with other riders, said, "He's dead." I went to him anyway, and he blinked one eye. "No, he's not," I said. "He's blinking." I cried because I knew there was nothing I could do, and he looked so helpless and sad and pained. I petted him. The syringe things were tangled in his tail but they weren't bad or unusual. He thrashed once and bit out, but only got my coat sleeve. Everyone stood around him.
Last Night :: Every Night :: Tomorrow Night
|
