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Post by Melissa on Oct 13, 2007 15:37:25 GMT -5
The sun's rays were barely up to the rails of the track when the shadow of an elegant bay filly and her handlerfell across the opening to the track. With a toss of her head, the small bay filly gave a sharp snort at the track scene before promptly ducking her head between my arm and side. Always the shy one Folksong was getting too big to be such an shy filly. "Alright cutie, enough of that." I said firmly pushing away Song's head, it was time for the filly to learn to be herself. With a swivel of her ears the sleek Thoroughbred filly eyed me before staring out over the track again. Now two years old Song had matured into an beautiful filly with amazing conformation and a good straight leg.
I hoped this workout wouldn't turn into a flurry of spectators, that would be the last thing Song needed but I wasn't planning on the filly's upcoming maiden start preparations to stay secret for long. Sooner or later the newspeople would be flocking around the bay filly, and asking all sorts of questions and speculating. Questions I didn't have any answers for at this time most likely as well. It just came with the territory and I knew they were just doing their jobs but still it got irritating after a while.
Folksong scuffed her shod hooves against the track, stirring up the dirt around her wrapped tendons. The protective wraps were just an precaution, in case she clipped herself she wouldn't injure her delicate legs. Jingling the soft, snaffle bit between her teeth. After being approached by an official for the Breeders' Cup Folksong would be going to the gates for the first time in the Breeders' Cup Juvenile Fillies, which was an huge honor in itself as Song hadn't even raced yet, so to make it in the BC as a maiden runner was big.
"Okay, enough dawdling. We needs to practice for this race Song." I said, the first half to myself and the second half to the bay filly who turned her head to watch me. Brushing back her forelock I lightly brushed one hand down the two year old's blaze that started on the right side of her face and ended across the left side nostril and lightly touched her chin. "Let's show them you can do well." I whispered in Song's ear, before slipping around to pull down the stirrups on the tiny exercise saddle.
Double checking the girth and protective wraps covering Song's front legs I swung up into the two year old's saddle, my boots sliding easily into the stirrups. With a cluck from me Song moved on easily in a fluid walk. Her movements were light and loose and I was able to ride the filly's walk with no problems. Some horses had a rough walk but not Song and that was just another good thing about the GS Gallant Prince full sister. She could resemble her older, more famous brother but at the same time have her own qualities.
After an couple furlongs at the walk I lightly squeezed the bay into a trot, rising above her withers a little, one hand resting on Song's shoulder feeling the rise and fall of her muscles underneath her sleek coat. I was the only one who had been training her for so many months but still I loved her trot. It was quick and she worked from behind really well, the classic sign of a horse with an kick-ass impressive closing kick. Folksong tugged at the reins and I lightly brushed one hand over her mane with one hand. Rolling back one eye at me Song blew out heavily. The impatientness was growing in the bay filly, she wanted to run and I was blatantly ignoring it as I wanted to make sure she was properly warmed up first.
For such an shy filly Song loved to run, she lived to charge down the stretch the wind whistling around her. The last time she'd been worked had been with Murder Afire and Locomotion and she had nearly nailed the two colts at the wire but she had slacked off for just an moment after getting the lead for an split second. She had the promise and speed was not lacking in her, my main problem was keeping her focused after she got the lead. With an irritated squeal Song humped her back up, threatening to buck. "Oh, quit acting like Prince Song. You can't decide when it's time to run, that's my job. Get used to it." I said, my words sharp as they flew and I tapped my crop against Song's shoulder. Instantly the bay filly's back levelled out and she glanced back in my direction, an sad look in her eyes at her misbehavior.
I sighed, rolled my eyes a bit and allowed some of the reins to slide through my fingers. Song automatically stretched out her head and her body followed as she moved forward into an fluid gallop. Pressing my check forward I ticked off the seconds in my head and at the same time kept an eye on the markers. I only planned to take Song for an gallop through two furlongs with an decent time. The pounding of her hooves rang in my ears as she surged forward. The sunlight was now picking up on the sleek coat of Song and a crowd of trainers and reporters were along the rail but I ignored them. My entire attention on the bay filly moving rapidly at an gallop underneath me. Spotting an challenger in the distance as we rounded the turn Song's ear flicked forward briefly but I got her attention back with a chirp barely audible to be heard over the wind.
The marker that ended our workout flew past and I stood back in my stirrups, murmuring soft words to Song, who's rapid pace slacked off like an light switch turning off. "Good girl." I praised, firmly patting Song's neck with one hand as the filly dropped down to an steady trot and then a walk. Sweat shone on her body and I let Song walk out on a loose rein. I was careful to avoid the reporters so I took the back way to the barns where the WB stock was stabled in preparation for the Breeders' Cup.
Once we had reached the barn I slid down off the 15.2 hand filly and stripped off her tack. Cain ambled out and held to Song's lead shank as I hosed her off. The bay Thoroughbred filly was unsure about Cain and she had her head raised suspiciously the entire time I bathed off the sweat and dirt. "Go put this up and bring out her cooler Cain." I said shoving Song's tack into the arms of the fifteen year old boy and took the filly's shank from him. Without an grumble he shuffled off to the barn, dropping the tack of the filly down in front of Song's assigned stall before coming back out with Song's blue and white embroidered stable cooler. Quickly I threw the cooler over the back of the steaming filly and thrust Song's lead into Cain's hands telling him to walk her arounds for a while, till she was cool. |
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