Greener Pastures

by Alyssa Brugman

  Shelby had given Blue his head and he had gone home.

  27 Memorial

  Hayley and Mrs Crook were already starting the barbecue when Shelby got back.

  Shelby washed Blue in the wash-bay with warm water and shampoo. She also combed out his tail and trimmed it in a neat line straight across. She slipped on a fresh cotton combo rug and let him into the paddock with the other school ponies. Aside from the special bath it was just like any other day.

  Lindsey took Shelby inside the house to wash her face, and also to lend her a tee-shirt and a clean pair of pants. Shelby's clothes were damp and dirty.

  'You know about the surprise party, don't you?' Lindsey asked. 'It is Erin, you know, so brace yourself!'

  'I don't think she's had time to organise anything too embarrassing,' Shelby said.

  'You are coming back, aren't you?' Lindsey asked.

  'Of course!'

  'Good, because I'm going to keep this tee-shirt. You have to come and get it.' Then Lindsey hugged Shelby. 'Are you ready?'

  Shelby nodded.

  They went back out to the barbecue area. Mrs Crook was cleaning the metal plate with a spatula. She had made her special, limited edition potato salad, which she instructed Hayley to guard. Hayley handed Shelby a soft drink.

  'How was your last ride?' Hayley asked.

  'Good.' Shelby pulled a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose.

  'And Clint!' Hayley said. 'How good is that?'

  Shelby took a swig of her drink.

  'Remember ages ago your dream used to be to buy a horse and then do it up and sell it?' Hayley reminded her. 'Well, you've done it. You've sold your first one.'

  Shelby's eyelids felt like sandpaper. 'But I love Blue. I love him so much.'

  Hayley was quiet for a while and then she said, 'My very first pony was a black Shetland called Pompadour. When we sold him I cried so much. I made my mum drive back to the place and buy him back again, and then two weeks later we sold him again to the same people.'

  Shelby smiled. 'Does it get easier?'

  Hayley considered for a moment. 'Not easier, exactly, but you get used to it. Probably because you know from the beginning that you might sell them later, so you don't let yourself love them so completely.'

  Mrs Crook started cooking the first of the sausages. Shelby was glad because she was starving.

  Monica and Kim – the two girls who had the stables opposite Hayley – joined them. They had a present for Shelby. It was a beach towel with a picture of a horse on it.

  Monica said, 'We feel guilty because we bought it on special.'

  'That's OK. I didn't expect you to get me anything.'

  Next Lydia arrived. She looked very clean and was wearing sparkly lip-gloss. Shelby introduced her to the others. 'Lydia is going to be working here now.'

  'Are you bringing a pony?' Mrs Crook asked over the sizzle.

  'No.' Lydia said. 'I don't have a horse right now.'

  Erin came running from the direction of the stable block. She was carrying a big roll of butcher's paper.

  'Wait, wait!' she said. 'You can't start anything yet. I have to hang up my sign.'

  'Start what?' Shelby asked.

  'You're not supposed to be here,' Erin said. 'Lindsey was supposed to distract you! Look the other way for a minute. Hayley, you help me.'

  Shelby swivelled around so that she was facing the paddocks. She put her fingers in her ears, but she could still hear Erin barking directions and the crinkly sound of the paper unfurling. Then she heard Mrs Crook shriek with laughter.

  She couldn't resist turning around.

  Erin had stuck her sign up over the wet weather shed. It said, Shelby Shaw Memorial Party.

  'I'm not dead, Erin!' Shelby protested.

  'But this barbecue is in memory of you. Isn't that what memorial means?'

  'Never mind,' Shelby said, hugging her friend. 'I love it!'

  'Good, because I didn't have time to organise any other decorations.' She thrust a present at Shelby. 'I got you this.'

  Shelby started to open it.

  'I couldn't afford to buy you a whole new saddle so I just got the stirrups.'

  They were beautiful, heavy silver stirrups with pink diamantes inlaid in the sides and white rubber grips. 'Thanks, Erin. They're gorgeous!'

  Lindsey and Mrs Edel arrived with a cake in a white box. Shelby opened the lid.

  'Is that strawberry shortcake?' she asked.

  Lindsey nodded. 'Do you like that?'

  'It's yum! Can we have it before sausages, do you think?'

  'It's your party,' Mrs Edel said. She put her arm around Shelby and gave her a rough hug. 'I'm going to miss you! I hope Lydia is just as silly as you are.'

  'I'm sillier, I can promise you that.' Lydia giggled.

  Hayley handed out paper plates while Lindsey cut the cake into slices.

  Shelby was about to bite into hers when she saw a police car crawling up the driveway. 'What's happened?' she said.

  Constable Bidgood climbed out of the driver's side. He opened the back door and pulled out a small wreath of white flowers. He took off his hat and made his way over to the assembled crowd. All the girls stood back to let him pass. Everyone was hushed.

  He stared at Shelby. 'But you're Shelby Shaw, aren't you?'

  'Yes . . .' Shelby said, uncertain what to do.

  'Your friend Erin rang,' he said. 'She told me there was a memorial service being held for you this afternoon.'

  All the girls burst out laughing.

  'No, I'm not dead, I'm moving house,' Shelby explained to him.

  'I didn't know!' Erin yelped. 'It's about sharing our memories together. That's what I thought it meant!'

  The constable chuckled. 'Well, the sergeant's not going to be happy. She's going to want a refund on these flowers!'

  They laughed again.

  'Ooh! Is that strawberry shortcake?' he asked.

  'Help yourself.' Mrs Edel handed him a slice. He took the plate and wandered over to the barbecue to give Mrs Crook pointers on her sausage flipping technique.

  Next came Mrs Hockings, the Gully Pony Club President. She'd brought a plate of her dried-up lamingtons and slid them onto the table next to the shortcake.

  'I heard you were leaving, so I thought you should definitely have this.' She handed Shelby a small trophy with a flourish.

  It was Shelby's 'Most Improved' prize from a couple of years ago. Shelby couldn't believe it! 'I'd forgotten all about this. Do you know, I was so . . .' She was going to say, so mad when I won it. She shook her head. It had seemed important at the time, and now she realised it was such a silly thing. 'Thanks, Mrs Hockings. That was very thoughtful of you.'

  Miss Anita made her way to Shelby through the group. She had a black dressage saddle over her arm. Shelby recognised it as the one she had been using for her lessons. It was Miss Anita's own, rather than one of the riding school's. Shelby guessed she must have been taking it home for the day.

  Miss Anita kissed Shelby on the cheek. 'I was so sorry to hear the news, Shel. You have been such a great student.' She handed her the saddle. 'This is not a gift; it's a loan. Hopefully it will keep you in the correct position until next time we meet.'

  Shelby gasped. 'I can't take this!'

  'Of course you can!' Mrs Crook said, standing on tiptoe to see over the girls' heads.

  'That's amazing! Thank you so much.' Shelby was stunned. It was exactly the type of saddle she had always dreamed of owning.

  Shelby's brothers pushed their way through the crowd. 'Jeez, Shel, you've got a lot of friends!' Blake said.

  'Yes, I do,' she replied, looking around. Her mother and father were talking with Erin's parents. She even saw Tammy – her least favourite stables client – standing at the edge of the group talking and smiling.

  Then she saw Clint's truck coming up the driveway and it took her breath away. Tears prickled in her eyes again.

  Hayley saw and grabbed Shelby's hand. 'I need to go t
o the loo. Want to come with me?' She dragged Shelby away from the barbecue and into the laneway.

  'Are you OK?' Hayley asked.

  Shelby wiped her eyes. 'Yeah . . . actually, no.' She could feel her face scrunching up as she tried to hold her sobs in.

  'Go and be with Blue,' Hayley said. 'I'll tell Clint to come over after he's had a sausage.' She went back to the party, leaving Shelby alone.

  28 Halfway Out

  Blue was dozing nose-to-tail with his pal Hiccup. Shelby didn't want to wake him so she stood at the gate watching for a while. His rug had some grass on it where he had rolled, but otherwise he seemed to have stayed pretty clean.

  He was a funny-looking old thing. His trimmed tail was thick, clean and lustrous – the best part of him, to look at, anyway.

  He opened his eyes and nodded when he saw her, or it could have been because there was a fly. Shelby preferred to think it was a greeting. Blue sauntered towards her and then stopped. How far across the paddock does a horse go? she thought. Halfway. Always halfway. Because once you're halfway in, you're halfway out.

  She slipped through the fence and then when she reached him she bounced twice and landed with her belly across his back. She slid her leg over him and leaned forward, resting her head on his mane. She patted a drum roll on his chest, and they stayed like that for a long time.

  Clint opened the gate. He had two halters. He put one on Hiccup and he handed the other to Shelby. It was new. Bright red. A gift for his daughter, she imagined. She slid it over his nose and then they led the two ponies out of the paddock without saying a word.

  Clint had parked his truck further down the loading area than he needed to so that the people at the barbecue wouldn't be able to gawk. The tailgate was down, the dividers were open and the two hay nets were stuffed full – all ready to go.

  'Do you want to take that rug off?' Clint asked.

  Shelby shook her head. 'It's fits him nicely. You can keep it.'

  'I appreciate that,' he said.

  'Better Blue wear it, rather than keep it in a cupboard somewhere,' she added. And besides, the next horse she was likely to have would be bigger anyway, she thought to herself.

  Clint led Hiccup up the tailgate and closed the divider behind him. The little pony tucked into the hay with vigour.

  Blue pulled at his lead rope, eager for some hay too. Clint stood on the tailgate and held out his hand for the rope. Shelby wasn't ready to hand it over yet.

  'Can I buy him back one day, if I want to?' she asked.

  'No,' Clint said.

  'No? Why not?'

  Clint squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees. 'Because I want my little girl to be able to love him as much as you do. How could I let her do that if any day you could come back and take him away from her?' He shook his head. 'No way! I want her to have the chance to adore him. Let her break her own heart when the time comes.'

  He took a piece of paper out of his wallet and handed it to her – the cheque. Shelby stuffed it in her sock without looking at it.

  'I could email pictures to you if you like. Would that make you feel better?' he asked.

  She nodded. 'That would be good.'

  Shelby put her arms around Blue's face. 'I love you, Blue,' she said. She held out the lead rope to Clint.

  'Do it quick like a bandaid,' she said with a croaky voice.

  He took it from her. 'Up, Blue!' he said and the little pony bounded up the tailgate and swung around. He was chomping on his hay even before the divider clanged into place.

  Clint jumped off the tailgate and pressed the lever on the side of his truck to winch the tailgate up.

  Shelby stood where she could see Blue. At the last second he turned to her, but it wasn't a look of fear or reassurance that he wanted. He looked happy. He nodded to her again.

  I swear he knows, she thought to herself.

  Clint didn't say goodbye. He hopped into the cab and then the diesel engine started. He gave Shelby a brief wave as he headed down the driveway.

  When she turned around her mother was standing at the edge of the loading area with her hands on her hips. She held out her arms and Shelby fell into them.

  'I think I did a good thing,' Shelby said. She could wait another ten years and never find another home as good for Blue as Clint and his family. He would be loved, respected, and he would be useful. Blue loved having a job to do.

  'You did a good thing.' Her mum rubbed her shoulders. 'I know you're sad now, honey, but you will always remember this place fondly. You will have such great memories of this time in your life.'

  'We have had some pretty good adventures here,' Shelby said, smiling through her tears. 'And you know what else? I have four thousand dollars in my sock.'

  'That's a lot of money!'

  Shelby nodded. She would use it to buy another horse – not straight away. After they came back from their trip. She would take her time and pick something that would be perfect. It wouldn't be a horse that was schooled already. It would be something with potential – a young horse, but not too young. It would be a horse that would grow with her.

  With her mother's arm around her shoulder, Shelby strolled back to her memorial party, and as she walked a new dream was formulating in her mind.

  Author's Note

  Illness is an inevitable part of horse ownership and a considerable expense, which is why I included a book about it in this series.

  Treatment options for laminitis are varied and often contradictory. Over the years I have heard many horror stories about owners acting on the advice of some vets and farriers. I have given one to Lydia in this story.

  The best advice I can offer to any horse owner for any illness or condition is to read widely so that you understand the technicalities of the condition, and to seek advice from a variety of sources before you make decisions about treatment. A lot of vets are excellent. Some vets are better versed in small animal care than large, or may be acting on training that is many years out of date. A good vet or farrier will provide you with a number of options and make a recommendation. Ultimately, you need to make the decisions about treatment for your animal.

  Be wary of any advice that involves applying shoes or drugs as a permanent solution.

  The best treatment may also be expensive and take a long time. You need to decide whether you are willing to expend the time and money required to keep your horse sound, and if not then you may need to surrender it to someone who can.

  Some horses simply aren't capable of performing at the level you may have hoped. You need to determine whether the animal you have is suited to the use or level of work that you have planned for it. Your horse's health is your responsibility. With good care, you and your horse can expect to enjoy many years of fun and companionship together.

  You can find more information about Alyssa

  Brugman, her books and her horses at

  www.alyssabrugman.com.au