In this story, a girl tries to tame a mustang horse she callsξ’Ranger.
Excerpt from Carrots for Ranger
by Jennifer Adam
I had his name picked out the day we loaded him on the trailer: Ranger, because it
made me think of courage and stamina,
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adventure and exploration. (I should have called
him Houdini,
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ξ’or Trouble, or Bucksnort or something instead, as it turned out.)
It was dusk by the time we hauled him home, so I tossed him some hay, showed him
where the water tank was, and then leξ him to settle in. Ghost whinnied a greeting from
her own pasture, so I knew Ranger wouldnβt feel too alone. I couldnβt wait to spend a full
day with him, to touch him for the ο¬rst time, to see what he was like and how he might
react to things. But as I jogged toward the corral gate early that ο¬rst morning, confusion
and a sick, cold dread seeped into my bones.
Ghost was dozing quietly, but Ranger was nowhere to be seen.ξ’.ξ’.ξ’.
Panic sank sharp claws into my shoulders and hissed prickly dragon breath down the
back of my neck. Ranger was wild, untouched. If heβd managed to get out of his safe corral,
how on earth could I catch him again?
ξ’A loud whinny broke the stillness of the morning, and hooξeats thundered behind
me. Ranger galloped into view along the edge of the cornο¬eld, hooves kicking puο¬s of dus
and tail streaming behind him like a banner.
βWhat are you doing out here?β I cried. βHow did you escape?β
He tossed his head, almost as if he were laughing at me, and jumped back into the
pen with another whinny.ξ’.ξ’.ξ’.
βRanger! You just jumped a six-foot fence from a standstill!β Iβd guessed he was
athletic, but Iβd never seen a horse clear a jump like that with such little eο¬ort.ξ’
He ο¬icked his ears at me, spun on his back legs, and promptly jumped out again. Just
to prove he could, I suppose.ξ’.ξ’.ξ’.
I spent the next few weeks letting him get used to the sound of my voice, the rhythm
of my movements. Whenever Dad didnβt need my help, I sat on an upturned bucket while
Ranger nibbled hay or grass, hoping to prove I wasnβt a threat. I tried oο¬ering treatsβ
ο¬axseed cookies, oatmeal biscuits, peppermints, even a scoop of Momβs apple crispβbut
mustangs oο¬ the range are skeptical of new ο¬avors, and Ranger didnβt believe he could eat
any of these things. I brought a carrot out once, but the crisp snap as I broke it in pieces
sent him bucking across the pen.ξ’.ξ’.ξ’.
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Read this story. Then answer questions 1 through 7.