“Excellent!” Dr. Gabe replies.
As the last family leaves the corral, David ties Babe’s lead and heads for the door, making the phone-call sign that I gave Jules a few minutes ago. I’m not sure who he’s going to call, or why, but I hope it helps.
“You.” Gus jerks his chin at me. “Take down the corral while the doc is working.”
“I um . . . can’t,” I stall.
“Why not?” Gus demands.
“I need Josh’s help draining the abscess,” Dr. Gabe says, giving me a strange wink that I don’t quite understand. “He’s my assistant, after all.”
“I am?” I ask, stomach flopping. Gus gives me a funny look. “I am!” I repeat quickly, trying to sound enthusiastic. My heart is beating fast. I feel a little proud that Dr. Gabe called me his assistant, but that whole “draining the abscess” thing makes me want to run and hide.
“Well, I haven’t got all day,” Gus says. “If you’re gonna fix up Buster, you’d better get to it.”
“I just need to see Buster’s medical records,” Dr. Gabe says.
“I don’t have that stuff with me,” Gus says.
“You don’t keep copies in your truck?” Dr. Gabe asks.
“I just said that, didn’t I?” Gus asks. The angry tone of his voice makes Buster lay his ears back.
“How long have you owned Buster?” Dr. Gabe asks.
“I dunno. Six, seven years.”
Dr. Gabe says takes a small notebook out of his medical kit. “Best guess, when was his last tetanus shot?”
“Can’t remember,” Gus says. “Just give him another one. That’ll be free, too, right?”
“There are different protocols depending on when he was last vaccinated,” Dr. Gabe explains calmly and gently, as if talking to a child.
“I don’t have time for this,” Gus says, looks agitated now. “We need to get on the road.”
“Okay, okay, no worries.” Dr. Gabe turns to me. “Are you ready to assist, Josh?”
I say, “Yes,” but I’m thinking, No!
Dr. Gabe gives me a squirt of hand sanitizer and pulls a few things out of his bag, including surgical gloves for both of us. I struggle to pull the gloves on, trying not to think about the fact that I’m about to help with a medical procedure. The problem with trying not to think about something is that it becomes the only thing you can think about.
“I’m going to break down the corral,” Gus says. “Hope you’re done by the time I am.”
Dr. Gabe waits for the pony handler to get out of earshot. “You weren’t kidding about him, were you?” He sighs. “Let’s do our best here.”
I hold Buster’s bridle and stroke his nose while Dr. Gabe gets Buster to bend his leg so the doc can get to work. He uses a hoof pick to scrape away a soft bit of Buster’s infected hoof.
“There! See that blackish section?” Dr. Gabe asks.
My stomach flops, flips, and flops again. I breathe deeply through my mouth, swallow hard, and look. Wow. It is disgusting.
Dr. Gabe picks up a scalpel. “I bet the abscess is right here,” Dr. Gabe says as he lances the spot.
As soon as he punctures the surface, nasty- smelling yellow gunk oozes out. Ugh.
Deep breath, deep breath! I stare at the white star on Buster’s forehead and try to settle my stomach. The poor pony probably thinks I’m nuts. I glance at the infected hoof—Deep breath! Deep breath!—and look back at Buster. The tightness around his eyes has already faded. I think about how Buster’s pain was so much worse than any of my stupid nausea, and he looks better already. Having the abscess lanced must have really helped—and knowing that I helped Buster makes the gross stuff easier to stomach. I take one more deep breath and look at the hoof again. This time, I don’t have to look away.
“There we go,” Dr. Gabe says, sounding satisfied. “Purulent material.”
“Purulent?” I ask.
“It means this fluid has pus in it,” Dr. Gabe says.
“A gross word for a gross thing,” I say.
“Yep.” The doc chuckles. “Hand me that bottle of cleaning solution, please.”
I pet and distract Buster as Dr. Gabe cleans the abscessed area.
“Now one of those medicated pads,” he says, pointing to the pack he needs with his elbow. He presses a pad on the bottom of the hoof and more pus leaks out. He repeats this process several times, using a clean pad each time. When he presses the fourth pad on the hoof, a little blood seeps out, but no pus.
“Can you come around and hold this?” he asks. “I need to get the tape ready.”
I brace Buster’s knee with my leg and press the pad against the hoof. “Tape? Won’t that just fall off as soon as he takes a step?”
“This tape is specially made for horses,” he says as he tears off a strip. “It will keep that pad in place and protect the wound.” He wraps the pad quickly and straightens up. “You can let go of his foot now.”
We watch as Buster gingerly puts the injured foot on the ground. He shakes his mane.
“Nice,” says Dr. Gabe. “Look at the difference in him already.”
I don’t answer because I know that it won’t last. Gus has finished unpinning the corral panels and is driving his pickup truck into the parking lot. Babe is tied to the horse trailer. As soon as Gus gets out of the truck, she lifts her tail and deposits a poop pile.
“My thoughts exactly,” I mutter.
A second pickup truck enters the lot.
“Did Gus bring a friend?” Dr. Gabe asks.
“I don’t think he has any friends,” I say. “It’s probably a customer for the store.”
But the truck skips all the parking places, drives up to us, and parks. A tall, thin man with a bushy black beard gets out of the driver’s seat. I recognize him—it’s Brenna’s dad. Out of the passenger’s side steps a man about my dad’s age who’s dressed in fishing gear. I’ve never seen him before. The second man flips forward the passenger’s-side seat so the people in the back can get out.
“We made it!” yells Brenna, pumping her fists.
She’s followed by Sunita, who says, “I can’t believe it!”
Dr. Gabe walks up to Mr. Lake and greets him. “Good to see you. What are you doing here?”
Mr. Lake points to the guy in the fishing gear. “Have you met Gary Snyder?”
Gary Snyder reaches out to shake the vet’s hand. “I’m Animal Control,” he quietly says.
Brenna raises her fists again, triumphant.
“Nice to meet you. This is my new assistant, Josh,” Dr. Gabe says. “He needs to talk to you about these ponies.”
Chapter Seventeen
Everything happens so fast I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. As I’m explaining to Mr. Snyder everything that has happened, Jules comes out of the house waving a handful of papers: the responses to the e-mail I sent out last night. Mom is with Jules, and she looks pretty worried. Brenna’s dad introduces her to Mr. Snyder, who starts going through the printed e-mails.
He flips through the pages quickly, but I catch a few phrases.
Never, never, NEVER hire Gustav Blusterfeld.
. . . the most incompetent, dishonest worker I have ever met.
. . . The sad thing is, his sister, Gloria, was a top-notch pony handler. But when she passed away and Gus took over, everything changed.
. . . Dishonest business practices, driving without a license, and mistreatment of his ponies, among other things.
. . . Cruel, neglectful, and just plain mean.
. . . I wanted to press charges, but he left town . . .
Mr. Snyder looks at Dr. Gabe. “What have you seen?”
“There’s certainly been evidence of neglect. Ask him for the vaccination records and the name of his vet,” Dr. Gabe says. “I guarantee you’ll come up empty.”
/> “Stay here,” Mr. Snyder tells us.
The Animal Control officer walks over to Gus, shows the pony handler his identification, and starts talking, but they are standing too far away for us to hear them.
David jogs out to us. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“Showdown at the Wrenches and Roses Corral!” I say.
“You can’t do that!” Gus hollers at Mr. Snyder.
Buster shifts his feet nervously, and I reach out to pet and reassure him.
Mr. Snyder says something quietly, but Gus steps up to him and pokes his finger in the middle of his chest. My dad and Dr. Gabe both tense up.
“Do you think we’re needed?” the doc asks Dad.
“Nope.” Dad points to the police cruiser that’s turning into the parking lot. “Looks like the cavalry just arrived.”
• • • • •
It takes more than an hour before everything is sorted out. At first, Gus was yelling at Mr. Snyder and the police officer, and Mom didn’t want the Vet Volunteers to watch or even listen. I could tell she wasn’t too happy with Gus’s cursing. It got a little scary, but Dad convinced her that we were old enough to learn about things like this.
After Mr. Snyder had taken a look at Buster and his hoof, he told Gus sternly, “You can’t work an animal to the point of lameness. And from the looks of those e-mails, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Normally, I might be able to let you go with a warning and a fine, but this has gone beyond my jurisdiction.” And then the policeman took over. It was so cool! Just like one of the cop shows that Dad and I watch.
The police officer put handcuffs on Gus and made him sit in the back of his squad car. By then, Gus looked a little sad, like he’d given up, and I almost felt sorry for him. But mostly, I was just happy that Buster was okay.
Meanwhile, Dr. Gabe brought Babe over to where we were standing with Buster. Now that Buster had been treated and was with Babe again, he was like a brand-new pony, nuzzling Babe and nickering softly. The whole time David was announcing what we were watching like it was a tennis match, making everyone crack up.
I sat on the ground next to Sunita. We didn’t talk to each other, but it was a comfortable silence, and that made me feel pretty good.
After chatting a bit longer with Mr. Snyder, the officer tipped his hat in our direction, got in his car, and drove off.
• • • • •
Mr. Snyder had all the answers we’d been dying for.
“Gus has a half-dozen warrants out for his arrest—for everything from theft to drunk driving,” he says. “Plus, his truck isn’t registered or insured, and Gus had his license to drive taken away years ago. When he realized that he was going to be arrested, he was finally honest about the ponies: they haven’t been seen by a vet or gotten any vaccinations since his sister died.”
“So what happens now?” I ask. “What about Buster and Babe?”
“I gave him a choice,” Mr. Snyder says. “He could let me take the animals and I would send him the bill for their care and boarding. Instead, he offered to give the animals away.”
“But where do we put them?” I ask. “They can’t stay here. We can take care of a couple of bunnies, but we definitely can’t handle two ponies. Plus, Buster needs to go someplace where his abscess can be watched.”
David points at me. “You are a worrywart with horse sense, Josh. Mr. Quinn is gonna love you.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I called him when I went inside. Your mom told me that your dad had already called the police, so I told Mr. Quinn that there was a good chance the ponies were about to be homeless.”
“What did he say?”
“There’s an old shed behind the stables that he’s been using for equipment. It’s kind of beat-up and dirty, but he said if we clean it out, the ponies could stay there until a better home is found for them. He even offered to call a friend who runs a therapy-riding program—Helping Hands School for Special Riders. He thinks Buster and Babe would be perfect for it.”
I blink, trying to sort it all out. “Mr. Quinn’s going to save them?”
“No, dork.” David punches my shoulder. “You’re the one who saved them.”
Sunita nods her head. “He’s right, Josh. You noticed when Buster was sick. You did all the research; you pulled everything together.”
I start blushing so hard my cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
“And you showed me a real willingness to help and to learn,” Dr. Gabe says.
“Well, thanks,” I say, “but . . .” There’s one last thing I’m worried about. I swallow. “Dad? I kind of told Gus that we would pay for Buster’s treatment today. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was the only way to get him to agree to Dr. Gabe’s help.” I jam my hands into my pockets and keep my eyes on the ground. I can’t help feeling like I screwed up again.
But Dad’s voice doesn’t sound angry.
“Hmmm, is that so?” he asks. I look up. He’s exchanging a glance with Dr. Gabe, and there’s a twinkle in his eye.
Dr. Gabe clears his throat. “You know, John, I could use Josh’s help. He’s done a great job assisting me with Buster, and it’s the busy season at the farms in the area. Lots of newborn animals that need tending. A few hours on the weekends for the next few weeks, and we can call it even. What do you say?”
Dad smiles and nods. “I’d say that sounds just fine. Seems like my son was a real help today.”
Now I’m blushing even harder.
I punch David’s shoulder. “This dork here helped, too. In fact, we did this together, all of us.”
“That’s enough of that,” David says, rubbing his shoulder. “Next thing you know, the girls are going to want a group hug.”
“Not a hug,” Brenna says, “but we do need a picture. Can you take one, Daddy, please?”
“Sure thing.”
Brenna pulls out her camera and hands it to her dad as we line up: Jules, Sunita, Buster, me, Babe, David, and Brenna. We put our arms around each other and look at the camera.
“Okay, everybody,” says Mr. Lake. “Say ‘Vet Volunteers!’”
Pony Care and Fun Horse Facts
By J. J. MACKENZIE, D.V.M.
Humans and horses have had a long relationship throughout history, and horses rely on humans to provide proper care. Whether you are a horse owner or merely enjoy a pony ride from time to time, here are some easy ways to help horses, as well as some surprising things you might not know about our equine friends.
Basic Care
Horses must have fresh, clean water at all times, as well as adequate food and shelter. A quick glance over a horse for any cuts or bruises is a good way to notice small injuries before they get worse. It is very important that hooves are kept clean and that horseshoes are in good shape, otherwise the horse could go lame.
Fun Facts
Horses are vegetarians! That’s right, horses are herbivores and do not eat any meat.
Humans domesticated horses around 3500 B.C. We’ve used these amazing animals for work, play, battle, and more for thousands of years.
You can determine a horse’s age by looking at its teeth! As a horse ages, it wears its teeth by grazing, and you can estimate how old it is by the grooves in the horse’s teeth. And horses lose their baby teeth, just like humans do.
There are many different types of horses who lead very different lives, from wild horses on Assateague Island to race horses in the Kentucky Derby.
How You Can Help and Learn More
If you live near a farm or a riding school, see if you can ask a farmer for a barn tour, or sign up for a riding lesson.
If you suspect that a horse is not being well cared for, ask an adult for help.
Read more horse books! Black Beauty is a must-read classic for any horse fan.
More horse resources can be found at:
http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/mammals/horse/
http://horses.about.com/
http://www.humanesociety.org/animals/horses/
Join the Vet Volunteers on another adventure!
Text copyright © Laurie Halse Anderson
Chapter One
You’re dumping me again, Mom.”
“Zoe, don’t be dramatic.”
Mom sits at Gran’s kitchen table and doesn’t take her eyes off me. I lean against the counter, cross my arms, and roll my eyes to the ceiling.
“Zoe, it would be different if we were filming this movie only during the summer. But it’s going to take months. You can’t be out of middle school that long. Once summer starts, you can visit me for a week or two on set in Vancouver.”
Visit. What does that mean? I guess Mom expects to be in Canada through the summer, but how long after that? And why can’t I spend the whole summer with her?
Mom takes a tiny bite out of her Pop-Tart and washes it down with a gulp of coffee. She doesn’t usually eat sugary stuff like that, but here at Gran’s house there’s no organic yogurt in the fridge, and the bananas on her counter are rounding the corner from deep brown to black. Pop-Tarts for breakfast it is. I’m not even remotely hungry, though. Mom wrinkles her nose and takes another bite.
We just arrived late last night and Mom is already leaving again. She’s continuing on to New York City. We used to live there together. Then I moved to Ambler before joining Mom in California, and now it’s back to Ambler again—for me, at least. In New York, Mom is meeting once more with the movie’s costume designer and checking in with some of her old soap-opera friends. They’re my friends, too, and I don’t see why I can’t at least make the trip to New York before settling in to life in Ambler, Pennsylvania, again.
I try one more time. “Why can’t I just spend the weekend in New York with you before you fly to Vancouver? I can take the train back here by myself, you know I can.”
“We’ve gone over and over this. You know I promised your grandmother that I would deliver you here. New York will be much too hectic. I wouldn’t have time to have fun with you; I have too much to fit in before we start shooting—”
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