As I've said, Ginger wasn't terribly friendly toward me at first.
But the longer we worked together, the better we got along.
One warm afternoon we were out in the orchard.
Ginger and I stood under the big chestnut tree while the other horses grazed.
I told her about my life before coming to Birtwick Park.
"You're lucky," she said when I finished.
"If I'd grown up with your Farmer Grey, I might have a good temper too.
But I'm afraid it's too late for me."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"My life has been very different from yours," she said.
"Before coming here, no one was ever kind to me.
I was taken from my mother as early as possible and put in with several other young horses.
We had food and shelter, but that was all.
There were no kind words or pats like you had."
"That's too bad," I said, feeling sorry for her.
"Yes. And you just told me that your master chased away a boy who threw rocks at you," she said.
"Well, a whole group of boys used to throw things at us to make us run.
And if my master ever noticed, he didn't seem to care.
One colt even got hit in the face. The poor horse probably still has a scar."
"Oh no," I said softly.
"At least you had a pasture to play in," I added a moment later, looking around the orchard.
"That must have been nice."
"I suppose so," Ginger said.
"But when it was time for my training, things got much worse."
"Do you mean when you had to wear a bit?" I asked.
"It took me a while to get used to that."
She swished her tail.
"I mean all of it.
When the men came to catch me in the field, they were in a hurry.
They chased me into a corner, then one of them grabbed my mane and another grabbed my nose.
They held me still while a third man put on my halter.
Then they all dragged me off to the stable, hitting me when I didn't go fast enough."
There was more to Ginger's story.
She explained how she had been shut up in a stall day after day.
The men had handled her roughly while training her.
They never let her understand what they wanted before forcing her to do things.
Often they made her run around at the end of a long rope until she was completely exhausted.
When she didn't behave perfectly while being ridden, they put a painful, new bit in her mouth.
"What a terrible way to get trained," I said.
Ginger snorted in agreement.
Things didn't get any better once her training was finished.
Her first master sold her to a horse dealer.
"The dealer wanted me to match another chestnut horse," she said.
"He drove us together for a while, and then sold us to a rich gentleman in London.
Our new owner liked to drive with a very tight checkrein."
"What's a checkrein?" I asked.
"You're lucky not to know," Ginger said.
"It's an extra rein that forces a horse to hold her head up very high.
I like to toss my head and hold it high, but it's tiring to be forced to do it."
I didn't really understand what she meant. But it sounded very unpleasant.
I stayed quiet as she continued her story.
"My new master used a harsh bit as well," she said.
"And we often had to stand for hours waiting for the mistress outside a party.
If I dared to stamp my hooves or move, the coachman whipped me."
"How terrible!" I exclaimed.
"Soon I began to kick or bite whenever anyone came to harness me.
I was miserable and sore all the time. One day I couldn't take any more.
When they hitched me, I started to jump and kick.
I soon broke free, and that was the end of that place."
"Is that when you came here?" I asked.
"No. I was sold to a different gentleman whose groom was impatient and cruel.
If I didn't do as he ordered right away, he hit me with a broom or whatever else was handy.
One day I bit him. Soon after that I was sold again, and ended up here."
It was a very sad tale.
When she was finished telling me about her past, we just stood there for a while, watching the other horses.
But the longer we all lived at Birtwick Park, the calmer and more relaxed Ginger became.
The men noticed it too.
"That horse is getting much better," James said one day after Ginger let him rub her forehead.
"She'll be as good as Black Beauty soon," John agreed.
"Kindness is all she wanted after all."