THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, June 21, 1994 TAG: 9406210352
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY KERRY DOUGHERTY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: 940621 LENGTH: VIRGINIA BEACH
``I have no career in my future,'' says McDonnell, flashing a big smile that reveals her shiny braces. ``I have a horse in my future.''
{REST} McDonnell, daughter of Del. Robert McDonnell, is one of a handful of teenage girls who shuns the malls, the Boardwalk and even the neighborhood pools during the summer to spend time with their true love: horses.
If it's 7:30 any morning but Sunday, McDonnell will already be at Breckenridge Manor horse farm on Princess Anne Road. There she sweeps the barns, cleans tack, bathes and feeds the horses and runs errands for the barn manager. Her parents pick her up about 6 p.m.
All this for one free riding lesson every week.
``It's worth it,'' she says, happily holding the reins of a horse while a veterinarian gives the animal an injection. ``I'd do it even if I didn't get the lessons. I just love being around horses.''
The love of horses. It's something these girls share and few understand. It drives them to spend their summer holidays in sweltering barns where they are bitten by flies the size of hummingbirds and enveloped in the scent of horse dung.
While they work, they talk horses. Which horses are in a sour mood, which horses are great to ride. Which horses they'd love to own.
Jennifer Vonusa, 14, gets a faraway look in her eyes when she talks about how her life revolves around the Breckenridge barns.
She spends seven days a week there.
``You can't understand, I love them so much,'' she says. ``There's nowhere I'd rather be.''
This summer her family is taking a two-week vacation to California and Utah. Although the trip will be fun, Vonusa says, she has mixed feelings. ``I hate to go in a way,'' she says, gazing out over the indoor riding ring. ``I'll really miss the barn, and I can't imagine not riding for two weeks.''
McDonnell, Vonusa and one other girl work in the stables in exchange for free riding lessons. But as the day wears on they are joined by dozens of other teenage girls who click up and down the cement floors in their dusty leather boots.
These girls are not working for lessons. They are ``boarders,'' girls lucky enough to own their own horses. They also come to the stables daily and perform odd jobs, but they are able to ride any time they like on their own mounts.
Not being able to ride every day is the only drawback to working in the barns, agree McDonnell and Vonusa as they gaze wistfully at a young girl riding an appaloosa bareback.
``I'd give anything for a horse,'' McDonnell says.
Amery Thurman, 12 and a student at Norfolk Academy, owns a gray gelding named Thunder. On hot summer days she comes to the barns early and leaves in the afternoon. She often rides Thunder bareback because it is cooler for her and the horse.
``My friends who don't have horses don't understand it at all,'' she says, dropping some quarters in the soda machine in the hot and humid tack room, which doubles as a clubhouse for the girls. ``They're thinking about how hot it's going to be and they say, `You're going to the barn today?'
``They just don't love horses the way I do.''
Assistant barn manager Robyn Mosley says she understands what brings these girls day after sweltering day. She looks at them and sees herself when she was younger.
``I started riding when I was 10, and right away I was crazy about horses,'' says the 21-year-old, who looks as young as the teenagers. ``I was obsessed.''
The parents who must shuttle the girls say they support the obsession.
Jeanine McDonnell's father says he is delighted with his daughter's interest in horses.
``I'm proud of her. I'm glad she's found something that teaches her responsibility and is so wholesome,'' Robert McDonnell says. ``Working at the barn has taught her responsibility. She's learned what it's like to work a 10- or 11-hour day, what it's like to have people depending on you.
``Personally, I wouldn't last an hour,'' he says, laughing. ``The heat, the flies. The smell.''
by CNB