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February 2020 Story and Poem Contest Rules: Winning stories and poems will be published in Pony Pals Magazine. All entries must be original, meaning that the member who enters them must have written the text. To be eligible the story or poem must have a horse or pony in it someplace. Stories should be suitable for all ages, including younger members. All entries published in the Magazine will earn 500 Wiggins Bucks, the best stories and poems will earn 3000 Wiggins bucks and trophy for the writer. Pony writer quills are awarded every day, remember to quit the scavenger hunt and restart it after you get your quill to earn a higher score. Jane Crandal & JB

February 2020 Story and Poem Contest Rules: Winning stories and poems will be published in Pony Pals Magazine. All entries must be original, meaning that the member who enters them must have written the text. To be eligible the story or poem must have a horse or pony in it someplace. Stories should be suitable for all ages, including younger members. All entries published in the Magazine will earn 500 Wiggins Bucks, the best stories and poems will earn 3000 Wiggins bucks and trophy for the writer. Pony writer quills are awarded every day, remember to quit the scavenger hunt and restart it after you get your quill to earn a higher score. Jane Crandal & JB
Jane Crandal & JB
2020-01-28 19:52:45
I realize that I never posted anymore of my story, so here goes. Italics in "*"s.

“Dolf!” Trudy burst out, skidding to a stop. She lost her balance and crashed to her knees beside him. “Dolf, are you okay? Dolf?”
He wasn’t in any condition to make a reply. His eyes were closed and his face scratched and dirty. The limp hand Trudy picked up had scrapes on the palm, and his torn-up clothes had seen better days. She checked for a pulse out of instinct—she wasn’t sure what to do with it once she found it, but it was there all right. She put down his hand and gave his shoulder a timid shake, half-afraid she’d break him.
“Dolf, can you hear me?” She brushed his hair back from his forehead, trying to gauge the extent of his injuries. Luger whined. “Shut up, you wonderful dog,” she told him. She looked over her shoulder. “Charlotte!” she called. “He’s here!”
“Who?” came her friend’s voice from down the gully. “Dolf or Luger?”
“Both!”
From behind her came a sputtering sound and a cough. “What the—who’re. . .Miss Trudy, you want to explain why this mutt’s slobberin’ all over my face?”
Quickly she turned back to see Luger busily licking Dolf’s face with a long wet tongue. The hired hand was trying to fend him off with no success. Trudy gave the German Shepherd a shove. “Stop that, you stupid animal.” She leaned over Dolf, studying him closely with one anxious hand on his arm. “Sorry about that. He probably gave you rabies. How do you feel?”
Dolf blinked up at her. “There was a dog,” he said blankly. “Lickin’ my face.”
“Yes,” Trudy said simply. “Long story. Are you okay?”
“Um. . .” He considered that for a minute. “For the most part, I s’pose. I busted somethin’ though.” He cleared his throat with a wince. “Left leg.”
“Left. . .” Trudy turned. His pant leg was torn up, but she couldn’t see any visible injuries. “It’s still there,” she said uncertainly. Dolf coughed out something like a laugh.
“Oh, I know it’s there all right.” Painstakingly he propped himself up on his elbows. Without his cowboy hat on, Trudy could see a disheveled cowlick sticking up from the tangled black mess of his hair. He looked a little ridiculous, but politely she refrained from laughing. “It keeps remindin’ me. Y’all find Little Boots?”
“No,” Trudy said ruefully. “Marse came home without you, so we went looking for you instead. We’ll take you back to the house first, though, and then come back and—”
“Wait a minute, now.” Dolf ran a hand through his hair, making the cowlick bristle even more indignantly. “You can’t just leave that dumb horse out here. He’ll end up eaten or dropped off a cliff.”
“We don’t have cliffs, Dolf,” she pointed out exasperatedly. He pointed up at the sheer wall of the ravine.
“What do you call that then?”
Trudy scowled. “Be quiet,” she snapped. He gave her a wounded look.
“You shouldn’t be snappin’ at me,” he said pathetically. “I’m hurt.”
“All the more reason you should be quiet.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Charlotte, come help me.”
Charlotte stopped trying to fend off her dog and came over. Between her and Trudy they got Dolf upright, balancing him unsteadily on one good leg while Luger raced around them all barking his head off and trying to trip and kill them. “We’ll put you on Bastion,” decided Charlotte, who always had a battle plan for everything. “He’s bigger and can handle both you and Trudy.”
“Me. . .and Trudy?” echoed Dolf haltingly. He started turning several shades of red. “Look, I can just ride by myself—”
“With that leg? Are you crazy?” Charlotte jerked her chin at her manic dog. “Besides, you’ve got me and Luger chaperoning you two. What are you worried about?”
Whatever he was worried about he couldn’t find the words for it. They got to the gentlest incline of the ravine wall and stopped. It hadn’t seemed as steep on the way down, but with the awkward prospect of trying to get a lopsided, injured young man up it without use of a handrail and rappelling equipment made it seem as steep and impossible as Mount Everest. Automatically the other two turned to Charlotte so she could puzzle together a way to get Dolf and his bum leg up the slope. Luger paused in his deranged bouncing to apply his soggy tongue to Trudy’s free hand. She jerked away from him, giving him a killing stare that he ignored.
“If you get Bastion,” Charlotte cogitated aloud while they waited for her latest epiphany to take shape, “we can use him as an anchor to get Dolf out.”
“How are you planning on doing that?” Trudy asked skeptically. She inched away from Luger, who was trying to shove his muzzle into the pants pocket where a Hershey’s bar had once melted from her forgetting about it and sitting on it. “Tie Dolf to the saddle horn and drag him up like the Volga boatmen?”
Charlotte nodded approvingly. “Basically.” She ignored the fact that Dolf’s face was now beginning to turn from red to white at the prospect of being hauled around like a sack of potatoes. “If you get that rope you always carry around and tie one end to the saddle horn, you can toss the other end down here and we can hold onto that while you walk Bastion and drag us up.”
“Drag?” Dolf echoed. He wobbled on his good foot. “Look here now, don’t I get a say in this?”
“No.” Charlotte flipped her ponytail, thwacking him in the face. “Come on, Trudy, we don’t have all day. Can you think of anything else?”
“We could leave Dolf here for the timber wolves,” she suggested. “Once they’re done with him he shouldn’t weigh much at all, and then we can just carry him up.”
“Hey!” Dolf protested.
“Relax, I’m only joking.” Trudy shoved Luger away with her foot and scrambled up the slope. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go away, now.”
“We’ll be here,” Charlotte called, and Trudy reached level ground and loped off into the trees. She sidestepped tangled tree roots and ducked low-hanging branches, trying to calculate which way she could lead Bastion back without him breaking a leg. She knew she was near the place she and Charlotte had tied their horses because a welcoming nicker greeted her just beyond the dense wall of trees. She could see Bastion’s big gray figure in the sun-dappled shadows, and just beyond it the black silhouette of Bullitt, his ears pricked with interest.
“Hey there, you two.” She went toward them and held her hand out for Bastion to sniff, but he wasn’t interested in her. He was looking past her into the woods, intent on something hidden in the trees. She put a hand on his bridle and turned to see what it was he was staring at so fixedly. “What?” she asked out loud after a few moments of searching. “Bastion, there’s nothing there. Is it a rabbit? A fox? A ninja?”
Bastion gave a whinny as if in rebuke, and something in the trees whinnied back—so she knew it wasn’t a ninja. Then the shy, delicate little head of Little Boots peeked out of the shadows. He looked at Trudy with a rather embarrassed air as if waiting for a reproach.
She put her hands on her hips. “So that’s where you’ve been, you wretch—skulking around in the woods after you drag Dolf out here looking for you and get him thrown over a cliff and scare us all half to death thinking you’d been eaten by wolves.” Her tone alarmed even Bastion; or perhaps he was offended and didn’t think Little Boots deserved such a sound scolding. She gave her old gray gelding a rub on the nose. “I’m not mad at you, you goof. Thanks for pointing out Little Boots for me.” She turned to the Paso Fino, who continued to stare at her from the safe vantage point of the trees. “Now come here to me and no more of this nonsense. Come on.”
Usually Little Boots did come when called. But today he only cowered and shook his head, making his bridle jingle. Trudy sighed. “All right, fine, be that way. Come on, Bastion, we’ve got a Dolf to save. Bullitt, keep an eye on this joker.”
The Mustang nickered in the affirmative and Trudy untied Bastion’s reins. She had no qualms about leaving Little Boots; she knew that since Bullitt was the only available horse in a five-mile radius the Paso Fino would hang around for companionship’s sake, and if he still couldn’t be caught he would probably follow them home. But Little Boots fooled her this time and followed Bastion instead, perhaps sensing that as the gray gelding was bigger than Bullitt, he also provided more protection.
Delicately Bastion picked his way through the tangles of roots and scrub bushes with the precision of a drill team. Trudy found herself not so much leading him as trying to stay out of his way and not trip herself and go sprawling. Behind them, Little Boots crept along, head ducked as he wallowed in the humiliation of running off. Trudy had no words of comfort for him, and it didn’t seem as if Bastion did either.
As they walked she explained to her big gray gelding in a low voice what they were planning to do with Dolf and the rope and Bastion himself. He watched her with dark, intelligent eyes as if he actually understood everything she said. She let herself think that he did.
“Charlotte?” she called as they neared the top of the ravine. She peered over the scraggly bushes. “Dolf? You still there?”
“Of course we’re still here,” came her friend’s testy voice. “What would we be off doing, running a three-legged race? Did you get Bastion?”
“Yup.” She rubbed her horse’s nose and looked past him at the dainty Paso Fino who was hanging back with thinly-veiled interest. “And somebody else too.”
“Who?”
“The whole reason we’re out here in this wilderness,” Trudy said pointedly, and Little Boots’ ears flickered as he correctly interpreted her tone. “And the whole reason Dolf’s busted in fourteen pieces. He was just hanging around in the trees by Bastion and Bullitt when I came up. I think he expects to be taken home right away.”
“No wonder you call him Little Boots,” Charlotte remarked. “He’s practically maniacal.”
“That’s what I thought. Come on, Bastion, back up, boy.” Trudy tugged on her gelding’s bridle and directed him into place, then unslung the rope from his back and uncoiled it, knotting one end to the saddle horn. She tossed the rest of it down to Dolf and Charlotte. “Tie it up tight and be quick about it. If we stay out here too long it’ll be dark and we’ll all get kidnapped by pirates.”
“Oh, hush.” Charlotte started wrapping the rope around Dolf’s waist while he watched miserably, too busy trying to stay upright on one leg to help. “That feel snug enough?” she asked him, giving it a tug.
“Hope so,” he replied resignedly. “It’s probably too tight. I’ll get cut in half.”
“Well, at least you won’t be complaining anymore then,” she said cheerfully. “Haul away, Trudy.”
Trudy clicked her tongue to Bastion and gave his bridle a gentle pull. The gelding snorted and started pacing forward, his ears swiveling as he felt the pressure of the tautening rope on his back. Trudy kept a steadying hand on his neck as she guided him along in a slow, straight line. *The last thing we need is for him to bolt and plow a furrow with Dolf through all those tree roots,* she thought, smirking despite herself. “Too fast?” she called down to them.
“Yes,” came Dolf’s immediate reply.
“Ignore him,” Charlotte vetoed. “We’re fine. Just keep on moving, citizen.”
To the tune of a certain hired hand’s muffled grumbling, Trudy tugged on Bastion’s head and the big gray kept trudging onward. She could hear the shuffling hiss of Dolf’s boots slithering through the gravel and dirt of the slope as he was hauled inexorably upwards, kept upright with Charlotte’s hand on his arm. It didn’t take long until there was the crunch and snap of breaking branches and Trudy’s friend called out,
“Stop all engines! Drop anchor! Lower the mainsail! We’ve reached land, captain!”
Trudy tweaked Bastion’s headstall and he stopped, blinking at her patiently while he waited for the next move. “Actually,” she said, turning to Charlotte, “if a ship has engines, I seriously doubt it would have a mainsail too.”
“Technicalities,” said Charlotte dismissively, trying to unwrap the rope from around the waist of a teetering Dolf. “And anyway, we’re here, aren’t we? Where’re Little Boots and Bullitt?”
“Bullitt is still tied up.” Trudy started working on her end of the rope, knotted around Bastion’s saddle horn. “And His Highness is in those trees over there, pretending he blends in.” She glanced over Bastion’s back at Dolf. “How are you doing?”
“I’ll live,” he answered doubtfully. “But only as long as y’all are done haulin’ me around like a sack of potatoes.”
“I don’t have anymore plans to,” Trudy told him sympathetically. “But I can’t account for anything Charlotte is planning.”
The female in question gave him a poke in the arm. “Come on, tough guy, up you go. We don’t have all day.”
“I can only go so fast, y’know,” Dolf informed her sulkily. He grimaced at Bastion. “You couldn’t’ve picked a shorter horse? That’s a long way up.”
“Would you listen to the Duke of York?” Charlotte started coiling the rope around her arm. “Wants a shorter horse. Wants it upholstered, too, probably, with four-wheel drive and cupholders.”
“Shocking.” Trudy took the rope from Charlotte and hooked it back onto Bastion’s saddle. “Simply shocking.”
A sheepish look crossed Dolf’s face. “All right, I’m sorry, y’all, I didn’t mean it like that. I know I’ll never be able to thank you properly for doing all this.”
“Oh, shut up,” Trudy told him. “I’m not thinking of you, Randolf, I’m thinking of all that work to be done around the place. If you don’t do it, *I* have to do it. Now mount, sir knight, and let’s get out of here.”
She took Dolf’s elbow while he got his foot into the stirrup. As he was about to haul himself up into the saddle, face turning white with effort, Charlotte gave a horrified gasp and grabbed at his arm to stop him.
“Wait!” she exclaimed. “Wait!”
They both stopped and stared at her. “What’s the matter with you?” Trudy demanded, alarmed.
“I can’t believe this,” Charlotte said. She paused for effect. “We forgot to unroll the red carpet.”
The look on Dolf’s face as he mounted Bastion made the delay worth every second.

Nat2 & Bobby Darin
2020-02-01 11:28:58
Forgot to put the title for my entry. Sorry.

THE RUNAWAY PART 4 (At least I think it's part 4. Oh dear.)
By NAT2

Nat2 & Bobby Darin
2020-02-01 11:29:40
Five Star Ranch
Chapter 1, Part 2
By Adeline HC

Where is she? Saige wondered. Amy was supposed to be back by 2:30, and it was 3:15.
“Ori! Has Amy called you?” Saige called outside. Ori was outside training Ellis, a border collie, to not chase the horses. All Ellis seemed to want to do was herd the horses into a corner – and keep them there until his heart’s content.
When no one answered Saige’s question, she stepped out of the barn. Where was everybody? Did no one work on this ranch anymore? Not even the stable boy, Alex, was around. And he was supposed to be grooming the two yearlings.
Saige got out her phone and called Ori.
Ori picked up after a few rings. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Saige asked.
“I’m inside. Where are you?” Ori said.
Saige sighed. “Where’s Alex?”
“I told him he could go home–”
“What! Ori, I told him to–” Saige sputtered.
“Don’t worry, he groomed the yearlings as you asked. And after that, Jiggs pushed him in the compost pile.” Ori said, and Saige could hear the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Why was Alex over there with Jiggs?”
Ori giggled, “Well, Alex had a full wheelbarrow full of muck, and he decided to save himself a trip by taking it at the same time he took Hunk back to the pasture.”
This time, Saige couldn’t help but chuckle. “Poor Alex. Well, let’s hope he’s learned his lesson.”
Ori laughed. “Yeah. Can we hang up now? It’s getting kind of weird. We’re talking on the phone, and we’re only a couple of yards away.”
“Thirty yards away.”
“Whatever,” Ori sighed. “Okay, bye, sis.”
“Bye – Oh wait! I forgot to ask. Did Amy call you?” Saige asked.
“No, why?”
“She was supposed to be here at two-thirty. I guess I’d better call her. Well, thanks. Bye!” Saige hung up, then hurried to dial Amy’s cell.
“Hello, this is Amy, how may I help you?” Came Amy’s usual response. It sometimes got annoying, since she knew who was calling from the caller ID. She still used the same line, though.
“Hey, Amy. Where are you? You were supposed to be back more than a half-hour ago.” Saige said.
“I’m sorry. David Shepherd pulled me over, and then he fixed my taillights. But, no biggie. Everything’s fine. He let me go with a warning. I’ll remember to plug the trailer next time, though.” Amy said.
Saige rolled her eyes. Pulled over? David Shepherd? Taillights? “Amy, there won’t be the next time if you don’t get here in the next five minutes. You’re late, and the least you could have done was call me and tell me you would be.”
“No problem. I’m turning into the driveway right now. Honest, Saige, I didn’t mean to be late. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.” Amy said over the line.
Saige sighed. “Okay, alright, I believe you. Now get here safe and sound with that horse.”
“Got it, sis. See ya soon!”
Saige hung up and stood to wait for the truck and trailer to appear. The Ranch’s driveway was about a mile long. Finally, Saige saw the truck and trailer rolling smoothly towards her. Amy parked and jumped out.
“I’m back, Saige. Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine, and so is the horse. Speaking of which, just wait until you’ve seen this beauty.” She said and hurried to the back of the trailer.
Saige watched as Amy open the trailer doors. A gorgeous, streamlined mare stepped lightly out of the trailer, her head held high. Saige had seen pictures of the horse, but the still shots had not done the mare justice.
She was an untrained four-year-old, so she promised to be a handful. Her owners had left her on the backburner for far too long, and that was why they had hired Saige to do the hard work of training the mare.
“They said she is an endurance horse,” Amy announced.
“Is? Well, not quite yet. She’s got a long way to go before they can use her for anything like that. What breed did they say she was?”
“An Arabian cross.”
“Well, she is a beauty, that’s for sure. What’s her name?”
“Lady Jewel. But, I’ve been calling her just Lady.”
“Nice. Well, I’ll get her into a paddock so she can stretch her legs. You, meanwhile, can clean out that trailer.” Saige said.
Amy sighed. “I suppose I was always destined to do the dirty work,” she grumbled.
“Stop complaining. It was all of our dreams to own a ranch one day. Well, now we’re living it. Are you happy or aren’t you?” Saige asked.
Amy nodded. “Ouch. Okay, I get it. Don’t worry. I’m happy. I’m happy. Are you happy?”
“Very. Now, get to cleaning.”

Adeline HC & Esprit Ellis
2020-02-04 12:06:24
its was around lunch time and i was taking a group lesson with 2 of my best friends. my horse is known to be a pain, but shes a mare what can i say. my instructor had us doing a fun cantering drill where we would canter over trot poles. STRAIGHT over trot poles. which i knew would be tough since my mare loved to cater, very fast. it was our turn, i was lining up with the pole and asking my mae to canter. she starts to canter but not in the direction i asked her to. she was so quick i didn't have enough time to shorten my reins. the next thing i know is that my mare is galloping towards my friend which is on her mare. we end up hitting each other. but everyone was ok. i was a little nervous on my next go around. and i'm glad i was. it was at the same spot that my mare picked up the canter and took off in a different direction on our second turn where she i crashed to the ground. i got back up and climb onto the saddle and i was glued to it for the rest of the lesson. after us 3 girls finished our lesson we decided to take a little trail ride. when we were about half way through the trail my other friends stallion started galloping off. that caused my friends mare to spook , which caused my mare to spook. long story short i ended up in a bush.
Equestrian_ForLife & Rolling Stone
2020-02-22 17:57:40
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