Willow King by Chris Platt Page B

won a lot of blue ribbons for that little gal.” John smiled as he headed back to the truck. “You just be sure you don’t wear him out ponying that colt,” he teased, then climbed into the rig and left.
    Katie threw a flake of hay into the manger, then went to grab her brush box. She stared in dismay at the horse’s mud-covered, burr-infested coat. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, ol’ boy. You just keep munching on that hay, and I’ll have you done in no time.” That was laughable. It would take her several hours to get all of the junk out of his mane and tail. She pulled out the currycomb and rubber curry and went to work.
    The tiny metal teeth of the round currycomb bit into the dried mud that clung to the horse’s coat. When the dirt was loosened, she used the rubber curry in a circular motion all over his body. The old horse heaved a sigh and relaxed, cocking one hind foot into a resting position as he enjoyed the royal treatment.
    â€œThey’ve been treating you horribly since you were turned over to the pleasure horse area of the farm,” Katie said. The Appy’s ears flicked back to catch the sound of her voice. “Cindy hasn’t been doing her job. I’ll have to talk to John about getting you back in the racing barn. Your coat used to be such a beautiful shade of gray. With all of this dirt covering you, you can’t even tell you’ve got a white blanket with black spots. You look all one color.”
    Twenty minutes later, she had worked all the mud clumps out of his coat. He was still covered in a thick layer of brownish dust, and so was she, but at least you could see what color he was meant to be. Now came the hard part—the burrs. She reached for the mane and tail comb and started to work on the forelock, beginning at the ends of the hair and working upward toward the roots.
    â€œKatie?”
    She had been concentrating so hard that she hadn’t heard Jan approach. She set down her comb to take a short break.
    â€œBoy, you can really see the change already. Do you need any help? It looks like you still have a long way to go.”
    â€œThanks. There’s no way I’m going to turn down help on this project. This could be an all-day grooming session.”
    They set to work, Jan starting on the tail and Katie finishing the forelock and working her way down the mane. When she was finished with that, she reluctantly eyed the burr-infested hair at the back of his fetlocks.
    â€œWhy don’t we just cut it off?” Jan said. “We’ve got to trim that hair anyway.”
    â€œGood idea. I’ll go get the clippers. He needs a bridle path cut, and the whiskers on his muzzle have got to be shaved before the show. Might as well get it all done at once. Then we’ll just have to touch him up for the show.”
    â€œWhat’s this horse’s real name?” asked Jan. “All I’ve ever heard him called was Appy.”
    Katie shrugged. “That’s all I’ve ever known him by.”
    â€œBut he’s got to have a name. You don’t want to have the ring announcer say, ‘And in first place, it’s Katie Durham riding Appy!’ do you?”
    Katie snorted. “Yeah. Like I’m really going to be called for a ribbon.”
    â€œWell, you could,” Jan insisted.
    â€œAnd pigs can fly.” Katie laughed again. “The main thing I have to worry about is getting him through the class without any major blunders, like running over the judge. I’ll call John tonight and see what his registered name is.” She saw the satisfied smirk on Jan’s face. “Only because I need a name for him on the entry form.”
    â€œI think this horse might surprise you,” Jan predicted.
    An hour later, when the horse was brushed, clipped, bathed, and drying in the sun, both girls were amazed.
    â€œWow!” Jan stood staring at the transformed animal.