Fit For a King

Chapter One
It was a warm summer day, and Choppie, as her owner called her, was about to pop. Her buckskin body was swelled with the readiness to give birth to her baby. Her owner was James D. Hythuselic. Mr. Hythuselic was very excited to have a new foal. His body shook with the anticipation of the young horse as he stroked the mare’s muzzle. In her former days, she’d been a fine cart horse, but after the accident she was reformed to be a broodmare. It had been a terrible day for both the mare and Mr. Hythuselic.

The cold winter breeze blew Choppie’s black tail and stirred her mane as she trotted along the snow-covered road. They were on their way to a horse race, but they refused to take the family car. As Mr. Hythuselic always said, “Those darn cars are meant for immigrants and factory workers, not fine American white men.” Little did he know that the car would be the primary source of transportation in a few more years. Choppie was glad to pull the Hythuselic family. She trotted happily and without complaint. After about a half hour of clear weather, the clouds began to drop more snow. Choppie loved the snow. Unlike most horses, she would rather be cold than warm. As she headed down the road that day, she pricked her ears at every movement or person they passed. Soon they were out of the city and onto a narrow road through the forest. The trees were covered in snow and one had fallen from the stress of the extra weight. It was when they saw it that Mrs. Hytuselic suggested they take the city road.

“Should we return and follow the city road to the grounds?”

“No, we’ll continue here and stay away from all those city muggers.”

Suddenly, Choppie stopped. Mr. Hythuselic smacked her with the whip. She wasn’t expecting such a hard blow, and she bolted. The horse and cart flew over the soft white snow and into the forest. The horse dodged the trees, but the buggy didn’t. It hit tree after tree and shattered. Finally the buckskin mare stopped. Luckily Mrs. Hythuselic had jumped out and was left on the road. Mr. Hythuselic had tried to stop the out of control horse, but he’d been flung at a tree and his right arm was thoroughly broken.

During that incident Choppie’s right pastern bone had been broken. The veterinarian said it would heal, but Choppie would never get back to her prime condition. Mr. Hytuselic’s arm had healed and Mrs. Hythuselic had only bruises. Mr. Hythuselic  had decided that as soon as Choppie had recovered enough to exercise she’d become a broodmare.

So here she was now, ready to give birth to her first foal. She walked across her stall and suddenly lowered herself. She laid on the ground completely. Mr Hythuselic rushed to the phone. He called the vet, but by the time he got back the foal was out. He was a fine black colt. Even at birth he was a quick learner. It took him only twenty-three minutes before he had learned to walk a few steps. His mother had gotten up and was now nuzzling her new colt. He had a jet black coat and black mane. His hooves were a dark brown and his eyes a deep blue. This unexpected trait came from his sire. He was a black and white paint andalusian stallion. His mother was a buckskin quarter horse, which made the foal an Azteca. His ancestry could be traced back to before the Civil War, but before that nobody had any clue. He was to be registered as a son of Camel’s Match, his sire.

But what to call him? Mr. and Mrs. Hythuselic argued over many names and finally settled on Minuit, which is the French word for Midnight. Since Mrs. Hythuselic was originally from France, the name fit.

Camel’s Match had a slightly odd name. It came from his height. He’d been a failed racehorse back in his day. His name was White Island. When he’d lost his first race at last place, he’d been pastured with a camel. The camel was exactly the same height as him, earning him the nickname “Camel”. When he’d been sold to Mr. Hythuselic his name had been officially changed to Camel’s Match. The stallion had been expected to have a great racing career after his sire, Island King, had made it to the Preakness. But when he lost his first race by six furlongs, everyone lost hope. He was then trained to barrel race, but after having an injury in his left foreleg he couldn’t make quick, tight turns. After that he earned himself a year off. Because he was a horse of a different color, he was then used to teach kids to show in in-hand classes on the showgrounds. He did well, but being that he was a stallion, he was tough to handle. Mr. Hythuselic retired the horse to stud.

Minuit was a well rounded little colt. His body wasn’t too fat or too skinny and his legs weren’t crooked or uneven. The two-week old colt trotted along the fence of the lush green pasture where his mother was grazing. His legs were strong and he moved gracefully, but he hadn’t galloped yet. The adventurous little horse began to trot faster, then broke to a smooth canter. He cantered along the short side of the pasture, then, when he reached the long side, he began to pick up speed. Soon he was galloping around the pasture. He headed toward his mother. When he reached her he galloped past her, then tried to turn around. His inexperienced young legs slid out from under him and he fell on his side. His mother looked up. The colt stood and walked over to his mother. He began to nurse.

It was a very cute sight to behold. The little colt’s black coat stood out against the buckskin mare’s beautiful gold one. Miniut drank the milk his mother offered quickly. It dripped down his small neck and left white streaks in his coat. His tiny hooves were barely sunken into the mud; they seemed to float above the wet grass of the small pasture. The new foal seemed excited about life. He’d gallop around and around the pasture in quick, long strides. He loved to trot up behind his mother and bite her rump. She’d turn around quickly and the foal would run away. For his first week, Minuit stayed in the pasture with his mother.

After a week outside, Mr. Hythuselic decided to bring his horses in. Choppie wouldn’t leave the pasture without her colt, so Mr. Hythuselic had to leave her there while he tried to halter the colt. Minuit kept pulling his face away just before Mr. Hythuselic could get the buckle done. The colt must have thought this was a game. He wandered away from the gate and back to his mother. Mr. Hythuselic cautiously walked toward the foal. Instead of a halter and lead, he held a lasso in his hand. When he got to t foal he angrily shoved the lasso over his head and pulled it tight. He then led the foal back to the stall. He’d have to train him to be led and haltered later. Choppie followed quickly, Her halter barely even on her face before she rushed out the gate and toward her stall. Mr. Hythuselic made her stop. He yanked the halter and hollered, “Whoa, whoa!”. The mare stopped walking, but she still looked anxiously at her stall. Finally Mr. Hythuselic allowed her to continue. He led her to the stall and made her stop again in front of it while he opened the latch. The door swung open and Choopie sped inside. Minuit was lying in the corner with his head in a pile of shavings. The warm afternoon light poured through the open window of the large stall on the western end of the barn. Choppie’s golden coat would have shone in the light, but it was filthy since she hadn’t had a bath since she gave birth to Minuit. The afternoon slowly turned to evening and evening turned to night.

✩ ✩ ✩

The next morning Minuit was up before the sunrise. He gave a shrill whinny that pierced the morning sky. Choppie’s eyes fluttered open and she walked to her foal. He was standing by the stall door with his head lifted high into the air as he tried to see out of the stall. His black ears were pricked forward and his nostrils quivered with excitement. The fluffy baby coat that covered him blew in the slight wind that floated through the barn. Minuit suddenly dropped his head down and laid down. As he nestled into the shavings of their stall, Choppie peeked her head over the stall door and stared down the aisle.

Later that day Minuit was saw Ms. Sarah Hythuselic for the first time. At first he was afraid of her. Her long brunette hair was sleek and full, and she had a light sprinkle of freckles over her nose. She had a slim body and wore her t-shirt tucked into breeches with a glossy black belt. Her boots were dirty, but still tall, black English riding boots. She was a trainer. Most of her horses were Andalusians, but Mr. Hythuselic had made her agree to keeping Choppie when they got married. He wasn't much of a horse person, but he’d grown up around horses and knew how to care for them. The only horse he’d ever liked was Choppie, but now she was a mere broodmare.

The next month, Minuit was trained to be led. Mrs. Hythuselic took on the duty of training him while Mr. Hythuselic sat on the rusty bench by the roundpen and watched. Mrs. Hythuselic had no trouble at all getting the foal to let her halter him. It took only a week for him to get the hang of leading, and eventually it would be time to lounge.

The fast-learning foal was beginning to lose his fluffy baby coat. Underneath it he had a sleek black coat. He had one white sock on his left hind leg, but the rest of his coat was jet black. He was growing bigger each week and beginning to have the opportunity to walk around the barn more. He wasn’t alone, though. Whenever he was taken out to the roundpen to practice leading, Mrs. Hythuselic would bring Choppie out and tie her to the rail. Even though his mother was there, at times Minuit would still get jumpy and shy at shadows and the like. Choppie would wait patiently every time while Mr. Hythuselic caressed her muzzle and neck. Of course by now she’d had a bath.

Minuit was beginning to meet some of the other horses at Silver Orchards Equestrian Center. One of his new friends was Avalanche. Avalanche was a 16.3hh white andalusian gelding who was an experienced jumper. He did many weekend shows with Mrs. Hythuselic and was always friendly to the lesson riders. (There were few lessons going on, but still some adults came twice a week to learn.) Another horse that Minuit had met was Empire. He was a small, 14.9hh stallion and a great dressage teacher. He had a blood bay coat and a small head. Although his registration said he was fully andalusian, he looked like he had a bit of Arabian in him. He was stabled next to Avalanche, whose stall was at the end of the barn, across from Minuit and Choppie. On Empire’s right was Pie, a small Welsh pony with a grey coat. She was new to Silver Orchards and always fidgety and unsettled. Even if she was uneasy, she was very cute. Light circles, or dapples covered her grey coat and she had a dark grey mane that flowed above her neck when she moved. On her right was Soot’s stall. Soot, a black mare, was a terrible horse. She bucked, kicked, and refused almost any obstacle. Because of all of her dirty tricks, Ms. Sarah Hythuselic had kicked her out. She was no longer stabled with the Hythuselics and the stall remained empty. The last stall on the end held Cranberry. Cranberry was a large andalusian horse and a new jumper. He had a dark, blood bay coat and a big head. He was sort of a project for Sarah Hythuselic.

Stabled on the left of Choppie and Minuit was Nova. She looked a bit like Choppie, but she was palomino instead of buckskin. She was a jumper who had been a young girl’s mare before she came to Silver Orchards. She’d thrown the small girl and the girl’s father sold her the following week. Sarah Hythuselic had bought her for lessons. Now she was in prime condition for showing and jumping. On her left, Camel’s Match had the large stall on the end.

The days began to blur together for Minuit. Every morning Sarah would bring him to the roundpen and lounge him. After that he would get a break while she ate lunch, and in the afternoon he’d get to go to the pasture until it got dark. The foal grew quickly and finally became a yearling.