Discovering the Missing Puzzle Piece

[Sam]

Horse Confianza
Jockey Sam Lettington on Zazzy (Confianza)
Notes To understand why Zazzy reacted the way he did, you must know his history which will be explained in the next workout
Purpose Sam discovers Zazzy's spells and soon after discovers his cure.

The golden colt was stiff under me. For some reason or another, he was not a fan of the track.

But he was a race horse. He was made for his. His muscles are suppose to scream for him to gallop, his heart is suppose to race at the sight of the track, his blood was suppose to shoot through their veins in excitement, and his hooves were suppose to bounce with every stride as if they were trying to stay airborne.

But for Zazzy it seemed to be anything but. It was as if he was a different horse (be dressage horse, hunter, or western horse) born into a racer's body. He seemed to just want to go back into the fields and forest and gallop his heart out. I, myself, wouldn't mind a gallop on the trails but the colt simply needed to get down to business. Racing was fun, but racing was also his job.

I sighed and pushed the colt into a reluctant trot. His ears were half pinned and his nose was high in discomfort. His eyes were stretched wide, as if he was sure there was some monster near by to kill him.

I told myself he was just being the young horse he is and would get use to it eventually. He would calm down and grow relaxed on the track soon.

At least, I hope soon.

The colt's stride kept getting quicker and choppier. He was certainly uncomfortable with this whole thing. He snorted and his mouth would twitch. Every now and then his stride would stutter and he would take a jumpy stride sideways. I sat it well and did not discipline him for that. He was just nervous, for whatever reason, and I couldn't get too mad at him for it.

Soon fifteen minutes passed by and still the colt was uneasy. If anything, it seemed he was getting worse.

Easy Zaz, I mumbled and reached down to give him a pat on his neck.

He froze before my hand could touch him and he bolted to the side. Woah! I cried as I was flung half way off him. The single word didn't stop him. If anything, he seemed even more spooked by my sudden fall to the side and bolted farther off and then forwards.

I grabbed his mane with fists and tried desperately to keep my left leg on his left side and not slip over and fall under his frantic hooves. The ground seemed to be going a million miles per hour under me. The dirt didn't look like such a soft landing either.

I was about to brace myself and try to leap away from him and hopefully roll safely on the ground but then something happened.

The frantic pace was gone and replaced with an easy gallop like one might see on a lazy horse in the backstretch of the race. He wasn't flying to the left any more and instead was soaring straight.

I wasn't sure what happened but I managed to stay on longer to see what Zazzy was planning on doing.

I expected him to perhaps slow or even bolt to the left again but instead he grew calmer and seemed to understand that was I falling off to the side. He galloped straight for a few strides then swooshed to the right, which pulled me back into the saddle.

Stirrups forgotten, I simply sat there and stared down at the colt. (Which I really shouldn't be doing considering that only makes it ten times easier to fall off.)

Zazzy simply wasn't Zazzy anymore. He couldn't be. It just wasn't possible.

This colt had a sure stride and confidently pricked ears. He was relaxed and generally just happy. His gaze was even and ahead, no longer rimmed with white and looking fearful. I blinked and made sure this was the same palomino colt from earlier.

I smiled and put my leg on and leaned forwards. Let's have a bit of fun then, I decided.

The colt responded immediately. I let him loose for a few strides then had him even out. I tried my best to get off his back, but it was nearly impossible. Still, the colt managed and galloped beautifully to the turn.

I resisted the urge to lean with him and sat straight in the saddle and allowed him to gallop wide around the large turn to the stretch.

The colt was excited now. His stride lengthened and he felt nearly like a large, very fast rocking horse under me.

I smiled.

This was Zazzy.

He was confident. He was happy. He knew exactly what he was made to do.

The stretch was upon us and I urged Zazzy on.

He couldn't have been more happier. His strides grew faster and longer. He made it look easy, even with me sitting on his back and disrupting his movements.

I gave with my hands and followed as best I could. That's it buddy! I cooed to him. He seemed to grow delighted by my praise and sprinted faster. His hind in tucked slightly and he seemed to nearly bolt forwards. The empty irons kept kicking at his sides and the toe of my black leather boots.

I couldn't lean down nor give much with my hand or even get off his back but the colt was still just as fast as many of my racers. I couldn't imagine the speed he would have with me in a proper position.

Soon though, the wire soar over us and I began to pull him up.

Without thinking about it, I gave him a pat but instead of bolt, he seemed to push his neck into my hand.

Galloping truly made him a completely different horse. He knew his purpose in life when he galloped. It put everything into perspective. It was his cure.

So maybe I was wrong about him not really being a racer.

Word Count 1,004