The silence was about killing me. I wanted to know. I was so ancious to hear the news that I was about 10 inches off of the edge of my seat.
My parents were sitting in the corner whispering about something. I leaned closer to try to hear but all that I could hear was a bunch of jumbled up words.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I stood up quickly and walked over to the doctor. My parents started to get up, but I gave them this look of "don't you even think about it."
I was scared as I walked. I then relized that I didn't want to hear the news. I started to walk slower. The look on the doctor's face was not a happy look. He looked more worried than anything.

" So, how is she? I asked anciously when I reached him. He looked down and sort of whispered something.
" She has a pretty serious fracture on her left back leg." he whispered. I took a deep breath and asked him the questions that I was thinking about the most.

Me: Will she ever be able to race again?
Doctor: Afraid not.
Me: Do we have to put her down?
Doctor: It would be best, but if you refer to keep after her for the rest of her life then that is your choice.

I decided to put her down. I cried myself to sleep that night. She was in pain and I didn't want for her to suffer. Other than that.. Barrel racing was the one true thing that she loved most. Taking her away from that would be like killing her, but not going to Rainbow Bridge to be happy.
I didn't race for a long time after that. I was too afraid of having to go through that again. I didn't think that I could go around the barrels feeling as strong and brave as I used to. I would be too afraid to have my horse fall down. I loved the sport of barrel racing. Ever since I quit, I have never been able to be excited over much. I had lost my love and I wanted it back.

This is my story of horses, faith, love, fear, and of course..
Barrel racing

Is that good?