Paniolo Pete

by RJ Krause

Chapter 25

  Best For The Horse

  As I’ve mentioned before, Pete had a mysterious way with animals. Not only did they understand him, he also understood them. Several years ago one of our young mares stepped into a shallow lava tube and broke her leg. Paniolo Pete was the first to react to the horse’s screams. When he reached her, she was thrashing around on the ground and trying to stand. Pete laid a soothing hand on her and spoke in a quiet voice. I swear, that young mare calmed down right quick. By the time the doctor arrived from town, there wasn’t much anyone could do for the poor horse except keep her calm. We all expected her to be put down. Although I hate to see any animal put to sleep, I dislike it even more to see them suffer.

  Now Pua was right fond of that young mare and while I won’t swear to it, I think Pete’s horse Kokoro and the mare were right friendly with each other. When the doctor first arrived, we were all standing around lookin’ mighty sad about what we were sure he would say. The stallion Kokoro was off to one side stompin’ his hooves and looking at all of us as if it was our fault the mare had broken her leg. After a fairly quick examination of the leg, the doc confirmed our fears. He told Pete that an injection would be the easiest way to put her out of her misery. Pua’s eyes filled with tears, but she said nothing. Growing up around cattle and horses she had seen her fair share of nature’s misfortunes.

  “Doc, if I’d wanted to put the horse down I suppose I could have managed on my own. I asked you out here to reset the leg properly,” Pete told the doctor in a quiet voice.

  “Pete, you and I both know that once a horse breaks her leg, it won’t heal because you can’t keep her off it. I appreciate your concern and if it’s easier on you, I’ll wait until you all leave before putting the horse to sleep.”

  Sometimes I swear, that wild stallion of Pete’s understands English better than I do. Right after the doc made the statement about putting that mare to sleep, old Kokoro released that ear shattering scream of his, rose up on his hind legs and pawed at the clouds.

  “Doc,” Pete said firmly and loud enough to be heard over Kokoro’s racket, “I guess you don’t understand what I’m telling you. This horse will not be put to sleep. Her leg will be set properly. If you don’t want to do it, I’ll do it myself. Let me worry about her healing process.”

  Paniolo Pete had never raised his voice in anger as far as I know, but I reckon that little speech he made to the doc was about as close as I ever saw. I will say this for the doc, though. No matter how intimidating Pete can be when he’s riled up, that doctor’s first concern was for the horse.

  “Please sir,” the doctor said to Pete, “you know this is unfair to the animal. I don’t question how you run your ranch or make coffee. Please don’t question how I treat my patients. This horse cannot be saved no matter how much we would all like to.”

  Pete glared at the doctor, but I reckon he knew he was right. Pete looked over at Kokoro and the two of them seemed to be communicating in their own way. When Paniolo Pete returned his gaze back to us, he had that set look in his eyes and I knew he had reached a decision. I told Pua and her brothers we should all head back down to the ranch house, so I was surprised when Pete spoke to me.

  “Bill, if you can hold on a few minutes, we’ll be needing your help.”

  Now I just assumed it would be for the nasty business of burying that young mare, so I told the young Kahiona’s to go on home.

  “No Bronco, I’ll be needing all of your help,” Pete told us and then turned to the doctor. “Doc, I’ll make you a deal. If I can show you a way to keep this horse off her feet, will you set the leg?”

  “Okay Pete, I’ll make you a deal. You prove to me how you’re going to keep this horse off her feet and I’ll set the broken leg. Otherwise, Mr. Paniolo Pete, this horse will be put to sleep and you will leave me to do what is best for the horse.”

  The two men stood there glaring at each other, but I could see they had reached an agreement. After all, there’s nothing a true cowboy hates more that to see an animal suffer. And an animal doctor, or any other doctor for that matter, feels the same way about a patient. Both men made it clear that they wanted what was best for the mare.

  I figured I’d about seen and heard everything to do with horse doctorin’ in my time, but when Paniolo Pete began describing what he had in mind, I have to admit it took me for a loop.

  “We need kind of a body sling. Lord knows I’ve worn enough slings in my life. I’ve broken so many bones, I guess I can figure out how to make a sling. What I plan to do is jury-rig some of those big Koa posts we have in the barn to support the horse’s weight. We’ll rig a sling between the posts to keep her off her feet.”

  Both Pete and the doc got caught up in the idea and squatted down next to that mare and were drawing pictures in the dirt. By this time, Keala, Noelani, and the two older Kahiona boys had arrived. Paniolo Pete explained to us what he had in mind and that old horse doctor even added a few comments about what was needed. Before long, we all had a good idea of the plan.

  The boys were in charge of cleaning out an area in the barn and building the sling. Noelani and Pua were asked to clear a path between the fallen horse and the barn. Pete and Keala were in charge of getting the mare to the barn, which was no easy task. As Pete and the doc were discussing how they might do this, Keala solved the problem for them.

  “Braddahs, for smart haole, you not too smart. Us Hawaiians been moving stuff more big than us for generations. All we need is some even trees and then build one platform. No worry, brah. I go show you.”

  True to his words, the big Hawaiian showed us alright. He took out his cane knife and headed into the trees. In no time, he had cut off twenty kiawe tree branches about six inches thick. He added some smaller ones to the pile and called us to come help move them next to the horse. Kokoro, who had strict instructions to watch the other horse, was standing beside the mare. I reckon Pete sometimes forgets that Kokoro is an animal. When he was giving out job assignments, he naturally included his horse.

  “Kokoro, you keep this mare lying down and calm. I’m counting on you boy to make her behave.”

  I have to admit, it’s a little unnerving at times to watch those two communicate. But Kokoro understood and kept the other horse down with a few nudges and whinnies. I reckon that’s all that counts.

  We moved all the Keawe trees up next to the two horses, and Keala set to work trimming off the branches and cutting to length. He framed out a rough square about ten feet by ten feet. He tied the poles together with rope and started laying some of the thicker poles on top. These he also tied in place and before long, he had what looked like a small raft. He then flipped the whole structure over and announced he was pau (finished).

  “Okay braddah, I figure out how to move the horse, you go figure out how to get the horse on this thing.”

  Pete grinned, went over to talk to his horse, then turned to us and gave us his familiar wink. “If you gentlemen will step back some, Kokoro will take care of the problem.”

  Now, I don’t know exactly how horses talk, but to our amazement, Kokoro bent his massive neck down and made it clear what he wanted. That young mare with the broken leg struggled to its feet, keeping the weight off the broken one. Both horses turned to look at Paniolo Pete with an expectant look in their eyes.

  “Try wait!” yelled Keala. “I no ready yet.”

  He ran over to the poles lying on the ground, placed them side by side about a foot apart, and lined them up with the barn. Next he told us to help him put the kiawe raft on the first five poles and put the rest of the poles in front. It finally dawned on us what he had in mind. If we could get the young mare on the platform, we could roll the whole thing down to the barn. We would use the extra poles to lay in the front and as the horse and wooden platform rolled down the hill, we take the poles after they had been rolled on and carry them to the front. That’s kind of like how those Egyptians built the pyramids I reckon.

  Once everything was in place,
Paniolo Pete told his horse to ask the young mare to step onto the platform and lay back down. I swear that’s exactly what Pete did. He told his horse to ask her, and sure enough, the mare did exactly as she was told! She struggled up onto the platform with her three good legs and laid back down calm as you please.

  Pete tied the back of the horse platform with his rope and dallied it on his saddle. He told Kokoro to keep it tight and work it slow. Then we all went to work pushing that kiawe raft carrying the young mare toward the barn. By that time the barn was finished and a path had been cleared. All of the Kahiona men were there to help slide Keala’s horse carrier down the hill. As we passed over each of the poles laid on the ground, the boys would grab the pole and run to the front area. It’s a good thing Pete had tied off the contraption and dallied it on his horse, because about halfway down the hill the whole process was controlled by that rope on Kokoro’s saddle horn.

  I’m telling you, I never felt prouder than in those minutes when we were scrambling around moving that young mare toward the barn with Kokoro high-steppin’ to keep the proper tension on the rope. When we reached the bottom of the hill, old Pete just changed the rope to the front and Kokoro pulled that horse raft right into the barn with all of us running to put the poles down in front. After we had the mare in the barn, the doc told us he would need to knock her out for awhile to set the leg and get her in the sling.

  That was the only time Kokoro gave us any trouble. After the doc had given her a shot and the mare fell asleep, Pete’s horse began stomping around the barn and pushing people out of the way. I guess he wanted to see everything that was going on, and he didn’t understand when the mare did not respond. Kokoro kept whinnying but got no reply. The big stallion was getting a might troublesome when Paniolo Pete finally scolded him.

  “Kokoro, stop acting like such a baby. If you can’t keep quiet and let the doc do his job, you’ll have to wait outside.”

  That big old horse had his hoof raised ready to stomp on the ground, but I’ll be darned if he didn’t look downright embarrassed as Pete said this. He gently put his hoof back down, looked at Pete, and put his head down like a ten year old boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

  As soon as the unconscious mare was securely fastened around the belly in her big sling and lifted into an upright position, the ropes were tied off and she was all set to have her leg worked on. It looked like she was just standing there peacefully with her head held down. In fact, her hooves were about six inches above the ground.

  Once the horse was set in the sling, the doc got to work on his end of the bargain. He cleaned the break, reset the bone, and made some splints to keep her from bending it. When everything was finished and the mare started coming to, it took Paniolo Pete and his horse both to convince her that hanging there like that was the most natural thing a horse could do.

  I doubt if she ever believed them, but her leg did eventually heal fairly well. Although she always walked with a slight limp, and never ran quite as fast, she was always a very important part of the Double ‘P’ Ranch. She gave us some of the best colts we ever had, and many of them grew into the finest cattle horses a rancher could ask for. Like I said earlier, I can’t prove Kokoro was sweet on that mare, but every time she gave birth, he would prance around with a smug look on his face.