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see Ethan’s hands signing, That’s awfully mean, even for Larissa.

5

    Happy Trails!
    The sun is barely rising when I open my window and whistle. A cool breeze sweeps into my bedroom, and with it the sweet scent of horse. Dandelions have popped up all across the yard. Dew sparkles in patches of clover.
    Dream canters up to the window, and I give her a good morning kiss right on her blaze. “Trail ride today, Dream. We’re going to have so much fun. Hang on. I’ll get your breakfast.”
    I pull on jeans and a T-shirt. On the way out of my room, I notice the computer. So I stop and check my e-mail. All junk, except for one from Winnie the Horse Gentler. I open it right away.
    Happy trails, Ellie! Have fun on your trail ride today. I ran across one more recipe you might want for your blog project. Nickers loves these treats, and they’re easy to make.
    Nickers’s Noshes
    1 cup flour
    2 cups oatmeal
    3 cups unsweetened applesauce
    Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
    Grease a 13-inch pan and pour in mixture.
    Bake for about 40–45 minutes. Cool completely before giving a piece to your horse.
    I copy the recipe. Then I write Winnie a thank-you note before heading to the backyard.
    My dad is already hard at work in his dining room office. “Ellie, what are you doing up so early on a Saturday?”
    â€œTrail ride. Remember?” I walk over to him. Stacks of papers litter the whole table. Paper wads cover the floor like giant snowflakes. “Tough night, Dad?”
    â€œA rhyme-less night, if that’s what you mean.”
    I feel sorry for my dad. I’m about to go on the most fun ride ever, and he’s stuck at home trying to rhyme fish . I start to sit down in the chair next to Dad, but Squash, our cat, is curled up there.
    â€œHey, Dad. How about this?
    â€œThere’s nothing fishy about our food.
    We’ll put your fish in the very best mood!”
    â€œYes!” Dad exclaims. “I can work with that. I need to put in the name of the company, of course. And a tune and whatnot. . . .”
    I leave Dad to his jingle, and I rush out back to give Dream her oats. Pinto Cat, the calico who followed Dream and me home from the cat farm and decided to stay, demands her food too. While Dream eats, I brush her. “So, Dream, what do you think about riding bareback today?”
    Dream keeps eating and acts like she doesn’t hear the question.
    â€œYou’ve filled out enough. I can ride you bareback now without killing myself on your bony spine.” I give her back an extra brushing. Instead of her bone sticking up there, she has a nice, padded, broad back now. I love my horse’s spots. I brush my favorite spot, the one that looks like a shiny black saddle. “You know, Dream, this saddle spot looks like God drew it on you Himself.”
    When Dream is finished eating, I lead her over to my mounting post, a tree stump we already had in the backyard. Even standing on the stump, I have to jump a little to get up on her back.
    â€œYou are so not a pony,” I tell her. “Once again, Larissa doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
    Dream and I trot across the road to Colt’s. I expect to have to wake him up for the ride. But Colt is already in the barn, with his horse saddled and ready to go.
    â€œWow! Bullet looks great, Colt. He’s thinned down a lot.”
    â€œI think so too,” Colt says. “See?” He pulls back the big stirrup of his Western saddle to show me the cinch buckle. “Two notches tighter than the last time I rode with this saddle.”
    Bullet still needs to lose another three or four notches. But it’s progress. It has taken me a long time to fatten up Dream. I suppose it will take Colt a long time to “skinny down” Bullet.
    â€œI think we can get into some serious barrel racing this summer,” I say.
    â€œCounting on it.” He unties Bullet and leads him out of