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horse. “See how heavily muscled he is in the front there? He ain’t
balanced. If he’s heavy on his front feet he could go lame down the line.” She
continued to survey the herd. “How long you been riding?”
    “I’m taking barrel racing lessons now,” the girl answered,
looking longingly at the little gelding.
    “She’s got her mind set on barrel racing and I promised to
buy her a good horse if she kept her grades up and did her chores. Plus,
today’s her birthday,” he said.
    Haley nodded. “What a great birthday present. Okay. As a
beginner, you’d be better off looking for a more mature horse. One with plenty
of training that can teach her how it’s done. Say around ten years old, a nice
gelding, no bad habits.
    “Your barrel horse has to be fast and agile. Just like
athletes. And barrel racing is tough on a horse so it’s gonna take constant
conditioning to keep him fit. You get yourself a mixed breed, say, a Quarter
with some pony in his line, and you got yourself the perfect barrel horse.”
    “A pony?” the girl said with a scowl. “I don’t want a pony.”
    Haley laughed. “I don’t mean ponies like those poor little
Shetlands you see at the fair, walking around in circles. I mean a horse that’s
a little over 14 hands. Short. Compact. Well developed legs, and good muscle.”
She squatted down to meet the child’s eye. “See, ponies, they evolved to be
fast and sprightly so they could get away from whatever was trying to eat
them.”
    The confused father looked around. “I don’t know…would you
mind? Sara’s a pretty good rider but I don’t know much about horses, other than
I should own stock in Purina for what I pay in horse feed. I’d be happy to pay
you.”
    “I’d be happy to help. Finding young Sara a good horse will
be payment enough. She gets good, one day you’ll come out to the One-Eyed Jack
and buy a horse from me.” She smiled at the child. “How old are you, Sara?”
    “I’m ten today but I’ve riding since I was little. Daddy’s
getting me a horse for my birthday.”
    “Well, happy birthday, ma’am.” Haley stuck out her hand.
“I’ve been a barrel racer since I was a sprout like you.”
    The father smiled and shook her hand next. “Kyle Henderson.
Pleased to meet you, Haley. Lead the way.”
    The trio wandered around the grounds until they came to a
holding pen containing just the type of horses Haley was looking for. “Now, I
know these horses ain’t bright and shiny like that little gelding but you ain’t
ready for a green broke horse yet.” She whistled through her teeth, and three
horses looked up, as did the wrangler. “Hey, you mind if I get in the pen?”
    The man hawked a wad of tobacco on the ground. “Go on ahead.
These are like to go for dog food if they don’t sell.”
    A small group of parents with children wandered over as the
three horses made their way to Haley, ears perked forward. “Come on, Sara, the
best way to learn how to pick a good horse is hands on.” One of the animals
snuffled Sara’s hair. “That’s good. See the way they perked up? I think that
one there likes you. Thing is, they’re paying attention to what’s going on and
they’re interested, not afraid.”
    She quickly raised her arms and none of the three shied
away. She gave each a cursory exam, checking their teeth first. “Okay, Sara,
see the pointy areas of this one’s teeth? Horse’s teeth need to be filed down
so they’re even, else the sharp spots are gonna scrape their tongues and make
it painful for them to eat. This one here needs a little dental work.”
    Next, she showed Sara how to run her hands over each one’s
body, testing musculature. “Okay, these horses are nicely balanced. You wanna
make sure the horse ain’t carryin’ most of its weight on the front legs because
it’s the back legs that deliver the power for forward motion. If a horse ain’t
been conditioned right and counts on his front legs for movement, it can make
him