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My first horse race
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I am a pony racer and my horse is a pony; her name is Peggy and she is my friend.
One Saturday, I was riding Peggy when my cousin Kate, who is 10 years old, came over. She was waving a letter in front of my face. “Look Emily! I’m entering you in a grand horse race. I know you love ponies and horse races. You’ll do great.”
After she left I rode Peggy to the stable and I went into my house to call Kate’s riding school academy. The man who answered the phone was expecting my call. He offered to teach me how to ride a horse.
We started with a white horse called Pepper. I tried and tried and then I succeeded. I could do it and my teacher said I was ready.
The race was on a Friday, the day of my life. I saw so many people in the seats at the race. Then I saw the racers, including a mean looking racer with a fierce horse. Then my eyes were on Kate. She was waving at me and encouraging me to do well.
I rode Pepper to the start line. Ready, Set, Go!
Pepper went fast through the cones and leapt up the wall, and then the mean rider came past us and threw a rock at Pepper. Hey! But that made Pepper go even faster and we crossed the finish line.
Then the speaker shouted, “Looks like we’ve got a new winner: Emily Wilson!”
Kate jumped up and cheered. I waved to the crowd. Pepper snorted at the mean rider. Whew! What a race.
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