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



This time of the day, was the day when noone would hear of sitting down, watching a movie, or chit chatting. It was %100 work. Of course, I was the one that mainly worked with horse training. I also showed a steer for show.
I was working on training a 3 year old stud to get used to having a saddle on his back. Dust was going everywhere. He was bucking, biting, and doing everything that he could to get that saddle off of his back. I had the rope wrapped around a pole in the middle of the corral and was holding onto the end.
Our cowhand rode up on a buckskin paint that he had trained himself for cow work. He had a shirt in a big bundle in his lap. I could hear cries coming from it. I slowed down the little stud that I was working with, and walked out toward the cowhand.
He was smiling and talking to something. I walked over and started to admire the shirt that he was holding. The cowhand's name was Brady. He was very nice. He was crazy about animals. I loved that part. He also rode broncs.
"Hey Kaylin, look what I found." he said excitedly. He held out the shirt and I grabbed a hold of it gently. Inside I saw a really pretty blue heeler puppy. I gasped and started asking Brady a bunch of questions.
" Where did you found the poor thing?" I found him around Pace Creek. he said nicely.
"Is he a stray?" I asked. Not any more.