colt. Star was no exception. Jody did her best to hold him as he turned
in a circle and whinnied gleefully to the runaway colt. Finally the judge and handler, their arms outstretched, managed to
herd the outlaw into a corner of the ring, where he decided to stand quietly and let himself be caught.
“That’s always the way with weanling and yearling classes,” said a voice by the rail. “One or two of ‘em will misbehave and
rile everybody else up. Too bad it was the first one in line.”
Mary and Willie turned to find the source of the comment—a man in jeans and cowboy hat, leaning over the rail and chewing
on a piece of straw. Mary thought the man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Willie’s reply brought her
memory back vividly.
“Hey there, good to see you again,” Willie said, shaking the man’s hand. “We’ve got a colt in this class today because of
you.” As Willie pointed Star out to the man, Mary suddenly remembered where she had seen him before. He was the driver of
the truck that had taken Star to the slaughterhouse by accident the year before.
The bay colt took off at a jouncy trot around the ring, tail up, nostrils flaring, and whinnying.
“Well, I’ll be . . . I remember that colt now. He got himself in quite a jam that day.”
“And you told us about this show. Nice place you got here,” Willie commented. “This here is one of the girls that was goin’
crazy that day looking for the ornery bugger,” he continued. “And the other one is handlin’ the colt.”
Their attention was once more drawn to the ring, where the second entry, a palomino filly, had just finished her trot for
the judge. The runaway bay colt was back in line and behaving himself, but he had caused a lasting disturbance to the other
yearlings in the ring, all of whom were now a little more nervous and fidgety because of his antics. Star had settled down
somewhat and was standing fairly quietly, but Jody’s attempts to square him up were in vain.
“Oh well,” Mary sighed, “he doesn’t look any worse than some of the others.”
Just as Mary finished her comment, the judge pointed at Jody to bring Star out and trot him down the fence line. Seeing the
nervousness on Jody’s face, Mary tried to send her friend a telepathic message.
“Don’t worry about the commotion, Jode. You weren’t nervous before; you shouldn’t be nervous now,” she whispered as Jody and
Star began their trot. Mary breathed a sigh of relief as Star trotted nicely down to the end of the ring and back again, his
head held high. She noticed that the smile had returned to Jody’s face as the judge motioned for them to step back in line.
“That is a right nice looking colt,” the owner of the farm commented to Willie. “If he doesn’t get placed in this class, he
sure should in the conformation class. Well, good luck now.”
Willie and Mary were left alone at ringside to watch the rest of the class in silence. There were no more problems as each
yearling performed at the trot. Then it was time for the judge to go down the line, questioning each exhibitor and examining
each yearling for good grooming.
Jody faced Star as she waited for the judge and pulled gently on his halter in another attempt to square him up, this time
more successfully. His hind legs were slightly askew, but he was almost perfect in front.
“Please stay that way; please stay that way,” she prayed silently as the judge approached her, looking down at his clipboard.
“Number thirty-four?”
“Yes, sir,” Jody replied, lifting Star’s head slightly to give the judge a better look at him.
“What is your name and the name of your colt?”
“Jody Stafford, sir, and this is Star of Wonder,” she said proudly.
“And his date of birth?” he asked.
“He was born on Christmas Eve, sir. He’s a year-and-a-half old.”
“Hmmph—Christmas Eve? Funny time for a foal to be born. Usually happens in
in a circle and whinnied gleefully to the runaway colt. Finally the judge and handler, their arms outstretched, managed to
herd the outlaw into a corner of the ring, where he decided to stand quietly and let himself be caught.
“That’s always the way with weanling and yearling classes,” said a voice by the rail. “One or two of ‘em will misbehave and
rile everybody else up. Too bad it was the first one in line.”
Mary and Willie turned to find the source of the comment—a man in jeans and cowboy hat, leaning over the rail and chewing
on a piece of straw. Mary thought the man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Willie’s reply brought her
memory back vividly.
“Hey there, good to see you again,” Willie said, shaking the man’s hand. “We’ve got a colt in this class today because of
you.” As Willie pointed Star out to the man, Mary suddenly remembered where she had seen him before. He was the driver of
the truck that had taken Star to the slaughterhouse by accident the year before.
The bay colt took off at a jouncy trot around the ring, tail up, nostrils flaring, and whinnying.
“Well, I’ll be . . . I remember that colt now. He got himself in quite a jam that day.”
“And you told us about this show. Nice place you got here,” Willie commented. “This here is one of the girls that was goin’
crazy that day looking for the ornery bugger,” he continued. “And the other one is handlin’ the colt.”
Their attention was once more drawn to the ring, where the second entry, a palomino filly, had just finished her trot for
the judge. The runaway bay colt was back in line and behaving himself, but he had caused a lasting disturbance to the other
yearlings in the ring, all of whom were now a little more nervous and fidgety because of his antics. Star had settled down
somewhat and was standing fairly quietly, but Jody’s attempts to square him up were in vain.
“Oh well,” Mary sighed, “he doesn’t look any worse than some of the others.”
Just as Mary finished her comment, the judge pointed at Jody to bring Star out and trot him down the fence line. Seeing the
nervousness on Jody’s face, Mary tried to send her friend a telepathic message.
“Don’t worry about the commotion, Jode. You weren’t nervous before; you shouldn’t be nervous now,” she whispered as Jody and
Star began their trot. Mary breathed a sigh of relief as Star trotted nicely down to the end of the ring and back again, his
head held high. She noticed that the smile had returned to Jody’s face as the judge motioned for them to step back in line.
“That is a right nice looking colt,” the owner of the farm commented to Willie. “If he doesn’t get placed in this class, he
sure should in the conformation class. Well, good luck now.”
Willie and Mary were left alone at ringside to watch the rest of the class in silence. There were no more problems as each
yearling performed at the trot. Then it was time for the judge to go down the line, questioning each exhibitor and examining
each yearling for good grooming.
Jody faced Star as she waited for the judge and pulled gently on his halter in another attempt to square him up, this time
more successfully. His hind legs were slightly askew, but he was almost perfect in front.
“Please stay that way; please stay that way,” she prayed silently as the judge approached her, looking down at his clipboard.
“Number thirty-four?”
“Yes, sir,” Jody replied, lifting Star’s head slightly to give the judge a better look at him.
“What is your name and the name of your colt?”
“Jody Stafford, sir, and this is Star of Wonder,” she said proudly.
“And his date of birth?” he asked.
“He was born on Christmas Eve, sir. He’s a year-and-a-half old.”
“Hmmph—Christmas Eve? Funny time for a foal to be born. Usually happens in
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