“Balance,” Stevie said, consoling her. “Balance is the most important thing. When you work on that, you’ll find you won’t have much trouble with that choppy trot.”
Lisa made a face.
“I promise,” Stevie insisted. “And besides, the best is yet to come.”
Stevie slid her foot back and touched her horse, Topside, behind his girth. In an instant he began cantering.
Comanche followed suit. It bothered Lisa that Comanche had started cantering before she’d signaled him to do it. It just wasn’t a good idea to let a horse change gaits on his own, even if she was about to tell him to do it. Lisa tugged on the reins ever so slightly. Immediately Comanche slowed to a trot. That was good. She made him trot a quarter of the way around the ring. Then she gave him the signal for a canter. He obeyed. At first Lisa was so pleased by the fact that she’d done the right thing and taken charge of Comanche that she didn’t even notice how wonderful the result was. Then it came to her. Comanche had a smooth, rocking canter that totally made up for his choppy trot. She sat deeply in the saddle, shifting easily back and forth with the gentle motion of the speeding horse.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” she called out to Stevie, now behind her.
“I knew you’d love him!” Stevie said happily.
But, of course, that wasn’t what Lisa had said. She didn’t love Comanche. She just loved his canter. The horse she loved was Pepper, and the trouble was that she couldn’t ride him. Riding wasn’t ever going to be the same for Lisa.
ALTHOUGH CAROLE LOVED being with Judy and learning from her, she found it difficult to be with horses who were in pain. They had been working together for a while and Carole couldn’t get over her feelings of sadness every time she saw a sick horse.
“It’s not the pain they’re in that’s important—unless it was avoidable,” Judy said to her. “It’s how we can get them out of it that matters.”
The two of them sat across from one another at a pizza restaurant where they’d paused for a snack in the middle of a busy afternoon.
“But it hurts me so much to see a horse who feels bad,” Carole explained.
“All creatures, including people, feel bad from time to time. Most of what we see is temporary and will pass. You know the gelding we saw earlier with founder?”
“I thought you said that was laminitis—”
“Same thing, different name,” Judy told her. “It’s an inflammation in the hoof. I recommended a change of diet, a new kind of shoe. Within a short time that horse will be back under saddle. For that horse it’s a temporary condition. For another it’s chronic and will recur dozens of times throughout his life. I don’t feel sorry for the gelding we just treated. I do feel sorry for the horse with a chronic problem. Life can be tough.”
“I know,” Carole said. “I guess I just don’t like to be reminded of that.”
“I’m sorry,” Judy said quickly, giving Carole a comforting look. Before she could say more, her beeper went off. She hurriedly took a final bite of the pizza, grabbed her soda, and dashed for her truck, parked outside the restaurant. “Let’s see what Alan wants.”
Alan was Judy’s husband and veterinary assistant. He didn’t usually call her unless there was an emergency. When veterinary emergencies happened, seconds counted. Judy was on her car phone calling Alan before Carole had a chance to climb into the cab of the truck.
“Hold on!” Judy said, hanging up the phone and turning on the engine at practically the same instant.
Carole slammed her door and strapped herself in with her seat belt. When they’d made a U-turn and were speeding along the street, Carole asked what was up.
“I won’t know for sure until I see, but it sounds to me like we’ve got a really sick horse on our hands. This one may bother you, Carole. You don’t have to come in, you know.”
“What happened?”
“I think it’s tetanus,” Judy said, shifting into high gear.
Tetanus? Carole knew all about tetanus. It was everywhere. It was caused by a bacteria that lived in the soil and horses were constantly exposed to it. It was a tough germ that could survive for long periods and in extreme temperatures. Everybody who knew anything about horses knew a lot about tetanus—including the fact that it was almost completely preventable. Every horse had to be immunized against it soon after birth, with regular boosters throughout their lifetimes. Every person who spent time around horses had to be immunized against it regularly. Any cut, particularly deep ones, on people and horses, had to be assumed to have tetanus in it and called for additional immunization. Tetanus was a dreadful disease. It was also a killer.
Judy drew the truck to an abrupt halt at a small barn on a small farm and jumped out of the cab almost as fast as she’d gotten in.
The horse’s owner, looking drawn and pale, was waiting for Judy by the entrance. He came over while Judy took her bag out of the traveling emergency room on the back of the truck, and the two of them talked urgently.
Carole reached for the handle of the door and then stopped. She didn’t know if she could do this—if she was ready to see a horse who was deathly ill. She’d seen death in humans and horses before, and she didn’t like it. She looked at the hand reaching for the door handle. It was shaking. Then she thought about the horse inside the barn who needed Judy’s help and might need hers as well. She decided that her own feelings were not as important as the horse’s care.
Without further hesitation, Carole opened the door and joined Judy and the owner in the barn.
Carole saw the sick horse immediately. He was standing in a soiled stall, all of his limbs stiff from pain. His head was raised in an awkward position, almost like an extension of his neck. His eyes looked clouded until Carole realized that it was the horse’s “third” eyelid—a milky membrane that was always open—that had closed over them, as if trying to shut out the world. Saliva drooled freely from his clenched jaw. Then Carole saw the healing gash on the horse’s hind leg that was the cause of the disease. The gash was getting better. The horse was not.
Judy didn’t waste any time. She began examining the horse and jotting notes in a file.
Carole knew some of the things Judy would do. She also knew that if this horse was going to have a chance, he was going to need a clean stall, specially prepared for him. Immediately she began working on that. One of the stalls in the barn was empty. She mucked it out, removing every bit of soil and old straw. She covered the bottom of the stall with a thick layer of fresh sweet straw. A horse who couldn’t bend his neck was going to need his water bucket up high. She found a high nail and hung a fresh water bucket from it. She removed the low hooks and nails because they might cause further damage to a stiff and flailing horse.
As soon as she was done, Judy walked the stiff gelding over to the clean stall, smiling a small thank you to Carole for knowing what to do and for doing it without being told. Carole would have been glad for some help from the owner, but he looked as shaken as his horse and seemed totally incapable of doing anything useful.
Judy gave the horse an injection, gave the owner some instructions, and left the horse in peace. It was all they could do for him right then. It would probably be all they could ever do for him.
When the three of them stepped outside the barn, Judy turned to the owner and said what was really on her mind. She told him that he was almost certainly going to lose the horse—over eighty percent of horses with tetanus don’t make it, and virtually all of the small percentage who do make it receive treatment long before the disease has reached this stage.
“Now, let me see the immunization records for your other horses,” Judy said.
The man looked at her blankly.
“When did the others receive their last tetanus boosters?” she demanded. Her voice sounded harder and harsher than Carole had ever heard it. Carole realized that Judy was very angry and was trying, unsuccessfully, to mask it.
“I don’t have any records,” the man said. “My horses haven’t
been sick before.”
Judy took a deep breath. “You have six horses in that stable,” she said. “I am going to immunize each one of them against tetanus today. Today you are going to start taking proper care of your horses or I will never come here again.”
The man nodded meekly. Judy returned to the barn to immunize the other horses. Carole returned to the truck. She was close to tears and couldn’t shake the horrible image of the sick gelding in agonized pain. She couldn’t face the reality of it for one more minute.
When Judy and Carole left, they rode together in silence. There was nothing to say. The image of the horse with tetanus was with them both and said it all for them.
“IT MUST HAVE been awful,” Stevie said later, trying to comfort Carole. Carole, Lisa, and Stevie had met up at TD’s for a fast visit after Judy’s vet calls. They were having an impromptu Saddle Club meeting until Carole’s father picked her up on his way home from work.
“I’ve never seen a horse in such pain,” Carole told her friends.
“I hope I never do,” Lisa said. She swished her spoon idly around in her root beer float. Carole’s story about the gelding with tetanus had taken her appetite away. “You know, all people who own horses should be required to belong to Pony Clubs and pass the Pony Club tests. Max would never let any of his students do such stupid things.”
“That’s what I told Judy,” Carole said. “She told me it was too bad that horses don’t come with instruction booklets.”
Stevie put her arm around Carole’s shoulder. “If it’s so hard to be with sick horses, maybe you shouldn’t go out with Judy again,” she suggested.
“That was hard. Definitely,” Carole said. “But there are other things that aren’t hard—that are really wonderful. I wouldn’t want to miss a minute of those. As a matter of fact, I’ve even got some good and exciting things to tell you about.”
“Like what?” Stevie asked.
“Well, for starters, right after we saw the horse with tetanus, we visited a newborn foal. He was born last night. He looked like he was all legs with a little bobtail that he flicked. He cuddled up to his mother and I watched him nursing. I could practically see his little tummy filling up with milk, and then he lay down to take a nap. He sort of sighed happily before he fell asleep. He was about the cutest thing I ever saw.”
“Did that make up for the sick horse?” Lisa asked.
“Not exactly,” Carole said. “But what happened at the next place we stopped certainly did.”
“Yes?” Lisa asked. She took a sip of her float and waited expectantly.
“Well, remember the guy with the racehorses—Mr. McLeod?”
“Yes?” Stevie replied.
“We went back to his stable for another check on the horses who are going to race. You wouldn’t believe how much care those horses get. It was a great antidote to the stable with the sick horse, I’ll tell you. Anyway, I got to see Prancer again. She’s this sweet mare.…”
Carole enjoyed talking about Prancer, and her friends loved hearing every detail.
“So when is Prancer going to race?” Stevie asked.
“A week from Saturday,” Carole told her.
“Too bad you can’t be there to watch,” Lisa said.
“But that’s the good news,” Carole said, her eyes lighting up mischievously.
Two pairs of eyebrows shot up.
“You can?” Stevie asked. “Is your father going to take you?”
“Nope, Judy is. See, Mr. McLeod wants Judy to be there and she invited me. It’s pretty common for owners to bring their own vets. I’m just lucky enough to be this vet’s assistant. Can you believe it?”
“Of course I believe it,” Stevie said logically. “It makes complete sense to me. And I bet Prancer will run better because of you.”
“I don’t know about that,” Carole replied, “but I do know I’ll have fun and learn an awful lot. Can you imagine what it will be like to be at a racetrack, the place absolutely filled with incredibly valuable horses?”
Lisa pushed away the root beer float in front of her, staring at the milky residue left on the glass. “Horses are funny,” she observed.
“Well, Prancer definitely is,” Carole began. “You should have seen the way she nuzzled my neck—”
“No, that’s not quite what I meant,” Lisa interrupted. “I mean, you know I wrote that essay about Pepper for school, just the way Stevie suggested. The teacher really liked it because she thought it meant something to so many of the kids in the class, though I didn’t think it was very good. But it isn’t just Pepper who means a lot and who can show us things. Look at the day you just had. You saw death, you saw birth, you saw health and sickness. You saw just about everything, all within a couple of hours. What an afternoon!”
“Yeah,” Stevie echoed.
“Definitely,” Carole agreed, once again flooded by mixed feelings of joy and sadness.
LISA WAS STILL thinking about The Saddle Club meeting at TD’s when she arrived at Pine Hollow the following afternoon. She and Stevie had agreed to take care of Starlight for Carole for one day so that Carole and Judy could get an earlier start. Lisa and Stevie were more than willing to take care of Starlight. He was a wonderful horse, and he didn’t really need much care.
Lisa paused at Pepper’s stall and gave the horse a good hug, which he seemed to like. She also gave him the carrot she’d brought from home. He crunched down on it and chewed contentedly. Lisa gave him another hug and moved on to Starlight’s stall.
Stevie had beaten her to the job. She’d removed Starlight’s bandages and was leading him over to the hosing area.
“I think the swelling is beginning to go down,” Stevie said, pointing to Starlight’s knee.
Lisa approached the horse cautiously and then ran her hand down along his leg until she got to the joint. She could feel the swelling all right. She was pretty sure it wasn’t any worse. She just wasn’t sure it was better.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Me neither,” Stevie conceded. “I guess I’m just hoping.”
“I’m sure he’s going to be all right. After all, he’s getting the best care in the world, isn’t he?”
“Not compared to what Carole was telling us about those racehorses. Boy, wouldn’t you like to be able to see that? And isn’t Carole lucky to be going to the racetrack?”
“She sure is,” Lisa said. She reached for the hose while Stevie cross-tied Starlight. “I’d give just about anything to be there with her.”
“So would I.” Stevie turned the spigot and the water came gushing out. Lisa squeezed the hose, forcing the water into a strong stream, and aimed it at Starlight’s swollen knee. They had to do it for a few minutes, but it was all they had to do. It wasn’t hard work, and Starlight apparently enjoyed it. At least he stood still for it, and that allowed Stevie and Lisa to talk.
“Have you ever been to a racetrack?” Lisa asked.
“No, but my parents go sometimes,” she said. “As a matter of fact, they were talking about going again soon.”
“How soon?” Lisa asked.
Stevie looked at her and her face lit up. “What a great idea!” she said. “I’ll start nagging them about it right after dinner!”
“Do you think it’ll work?” Lisa asked.
“It will if I have anything to say about it,” Stevie assured her. “And I can tell that I already have a lot to say about it. I know they’re not going anywhere this weekend. My mother has been talking about building a rock garden near the swimming pool. Every time she talks about it, my dad gets this look of desperation. I have the funny feeling he’ll be only too willing to go to the racetrack. But will your parents let you go?”
“You know my parents, Stevie. They think your parents are wonderful—and of course, they’re right. So if your parents say it’s okay, they’ll let me go.”
Stevie turned off the water and began toweling Starlight’s leg gently, massaging the swelling as she did. When Starlight
was completely dry, the girls took him back to his stall. Stevie watched while Lisa put a fresh wrap on his knee.
“You’ve learned a lot in a little while,” Stevie said.
“My friends are good teachers,” Lisa told her.
“I guess so. And you must be, too. Isn’t it funny that just last week I was giving you help on a school assignment, and now today you were coming up with a scheme that will get us to the racetrack? The whole world is turning upside down!”
Lisa laughed. It was nice to think that the best parts of Stevie were rubbing off on her!
“How’s it coming, girls?” Max asked, peering over the door to Starlight’s stall.
“Just fine,” Stevie told him. “We think the swelling is going down. Maybe. A little bit.”
“Glad you’re so certain,” he said, chuckling. “But don’t worry. As long as it’s not getting worse now, it’s a good sign. When you’re waiting for a horse to heal, patience is a good quality.”
“At least he’s healing,” Lisa said. Max looked at her in surprise. She had even surprised herself by how harsh the words sounded coming from her own mouth. One of the things she really liked about Max, though, was that you never had to spend a lot of time explaining the obvious things.
“How did it go with Comanche?” he asked.
Lisa shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
Max scratched his chin. “You know, I just stopped by and checked on Pepper. He seemed a little restless to me. I think he could use some gentle exercise. Would you have time to take him out on a trail ride—say a half hour—if somebody could go with you?”
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