Crown Prince (15 page)

“I thought I heard someone down here,” she said, her voice scratchy. “Are you going to the barn pretty soon?”

Sarah nodded, continuing to eat her cereal. “Prince is being vetted today,” she said between mouthfuls.

“You wouldn't need any help with that, would you?”

Sarah frowned. This was a surprise, coming from a girl who had never shown much interest in horses. On this most important day, Sarah didn't want to deal with having her younger sister at the barn.

“Look, Abby, it's going to be a long day. I have to hurry to get Prince ready for Dr. Reynolds. I'm going to be busy, and there won't be much for you to do. What makes you want to come to the barn now?”

Abby stared at the floor for a moment, fiddling with a button on her pajamas. When she looked up, her face mirrored her disappointment. “I thought maybe I could help you,” she said in a low voice.

Sarah saw she had hurt her sister's feelings, like the time Abby had wanted to go with her to a pool party at Rita Snyder's last summer. “No one else will be bringing a little sister,” she'd complained to their mother, who seemed to understand.

Sarah thought for a moment before answering. “Abby, Dad will be going to the Creamery today. Don't you want to work there in my place?”

Abby's face brightened. “Oh, that's right! He said I could!”

“Do you want my Seaside Creamery T-shirts?” Sarah asked. “They're in my bottom drawer.”

“Cool!” Abby said, starting toward the stairs. As she stopped to look in the hall mirror, her nose scrunched up. “Bed head,” she muttered before hurrying up the stairs.

Sarah was relieved her sister had given up the idea of coming to the barn, though at the same time she couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt. But there was no time to dwell on it. She rose from the table, mentally checking the things she needed to take with her. She quickly stuffed the sandwich she'd made the night before and her water bottle into her backpack. She took two carrots from the refrigerator, and as she headed for the door, grabbed some peppermints and stuck them in her jeans pocket.

Easing the screen door shut behind her so it wouldn't slam, Sarah walked quickly to the tool shed where her bike was stored. After adjusting her bike helmet, she pulled her bicycle out of the shed. The morning sun had gotten a head start and was high above the horizon, but the grass under her feet was still wet with dew. With a running start, she was on her way. Pedaling fast down the bike lane, she was glad she wore a sweatshirt against the early morning chill. She'd timed it yesterday. If she hurried, it was about twelve minutes to the Brookmeade entry road and another six to the barn.

Just like the day before, Prince was clearly glad to see her when she arrived. What an awesome horse! She stroked his head and gently tugged on his ears. When she stepped back to pull one of the carrots out of her sweatshirt pocket, Prince reached out to take a large bite.

A glance at her watch told her it was time to feed hay. With a kiss on his velvet nose, Sarah left the stall and headed for the hay loft. Gus would be back on duty today, and she didn't want to give him any excuse to be critical. It would be great if she didn't meet up with the cranky barn manager at all. Coming up to the loft, she breathed deeply the sweet aroma of the newly cut hay before pulling out several seasoned bales. She carefully followed Gus's instructions, which she'd gone over and over in her head, as she distributed hay to the horses, and again did a quick sweep of the loft before rushing back to Prince's stall, stopping by the tack room on her way to get her grooming equipment. She brushed him while he ate his hay, stopping only when Jack stopped by to remind her of the veterinary appointment.

“If I have time, should I walk him in the indoor before Dr. Reynolds gets here?” Sarah asked.

“Good idea. 'Twill loosen him up a bit. But have him in the courtyard at nine sharp.” Jack started to leave but turned back. “Mr. DeWitt wanted me to tell you not to worry about the cost of the vet exam. He said he and his wife got you into this deal, and they are prepared to pay for the pre-purchase.”

Sarah gulped. She hadn't even thought of this extra expense.

Paige was again at the barn early to ride Quarry. She poked her head around the corner when Sarah had nearly finished brushing Prince's tail. “Hey, good luck with the pre-purchase. I hope he passes.” She stepped closer to look at Prince. “Gee, Sarah, your new brushes are getting quite a workout.” She grinned. “How many times have you groomed him so far? When you finish this time, your horse will either have the shiniest coat in the barn or no coat left.”

Sarah laughed and thanked Paige for her good wishes. “What are you doing with Quarry today?”

“We need a dressage school. There's a lot to improve on before Fair Pines. But since we did a conditioning ride yesterday, I'll probably just school Quarry for a bit then take a short hack with Tim when he gets here.”

“I hope Prince and I can go with you on a trail ride one of these days,” Sarah said, imagining the three of them cantering along wooded paths.

“It will definitely happen!” Paige assured her. “Gotta go… See ya.”

After Paige left, Sarah led Prince out of the barn toward the indoor riding arena. Today the cavernous indoor was deserted. They didn't have long to walk before the vet appointment, only a few minutes, and thankfully Prince didn't seem to mind being there without another horse. He was much more relaxed on his second visit. They had gone around only once when Jack appeared in the doorway. He appeared tense.

“Sarah, Dr. Reynolds is here. He's a little early, but he wants to start with your horse right away. So hurry along.” Sarah gripped the lead shank tighter as she left the arena, heading toward the courtyard near the front of the barn.
This is it,
she thought. So much depended on the exam.

A man with a buzzcut, glasses, and wearing a stethoscope around his neck stood next to a capped pickup talking to Jack and Mr. DeWitt. As Sarah drew nearer, the veterinarian turned to look at her horse. “This must be Crown Prince,” he said, “and you must be Sarah.”

Sarah's throat felt scratchy, and all she could manage was a rather feeble, “Yes,” as she asked Prince to halt.

Dr. Reynolds walked around the horse, sizing him up with an experienced eye that immediately recognized an extremely fine equine individual. The horse was the picture of health, his smooth coat gleaming in the rays of the morning sun, and his legs showed no signs of injuries. Typically horses the vet saw coming off the racetrack had blemishes—big ankles, popped knees, bowed tendons—but this one's legs were clean. The vet also noticed that the horse carried more weight than was typical for fit racehorses.

“You want to give me the story on this horse?” he asked.

Jack spoke up. “He's a four-year-old Thoroughbred that came to the farm on Saturday from Rudy Dominic's barn at Raceland Park. He never started.”

The vet raised his eyebrows. “Do you know why he was retired without ever running in a race? Does he come with any soundness or health issues you're aware of?”

“We're hoping you can answer that question,” Mr. DeWitt said. “We need to know if there are underlying problems.”

Dr. Reynolds scratched his head and thought for a moment. Looking toward the barn, he picked up his medical bag and said, “Before we check him for lameness, let's put him in his stall where conditions aren't so bright. It will be a better place to check his eyes and vital signs.”

Sarah turned her horse and began walking him to the barn's side door, with the three men following behind. When they reached Prince's stall, Dr. Reynolds went into the stall with Sarah and her horse while Jack and Mr. DeWitt stood outside watching through the bars. Sarah was relieved that Prince didn't appear to question Dr. Reynolds's presence. The horse didn't resist when the veterinarian inserted a thermometer, and Prince continued to stand quietly when the vet leaned over to listen to his heart and lungs with his stethoscope. After righting himself, the vet removed the thermometer and read it.

“Nothing out of the ordinary so far,” Dr. Reynolds commented, as he lifted Prince's upper lip to check for the tattoo found there on all racing Thoroughbreds. “He must have been a long way from a race when they gave up on him,” the vet said, “or he'd be tattooed. The question is why.” He reached into his bag for a bright flashlight and spent several minutes looking closely into Prince's eyes, shining the flashlight into each one.

Stepping back, Dr. Reynolds paused for a few moments, looking intently at Crown Prince. He turned to Jack and Mr. DeWitt. “His eyes look normal. Now we have to consider the possibility he could have developed a wind problem. Have you heard him making any breathing noises when he's been exercised or turned out?”

“We've not had an opportunity to observe anything like that,” Jack said. “Except for hand-walking in the indoor, he's been in his stall since he came to the farm on Saturday.”

“That being the case, I'm going to check his throat first,” Dr. Reynolds said. “I'd like to avoid sedation if possible, since we still have to see if there are lameness issues. But if I detect any sign of unusual tissue, I will sedate him and take a look at his larynx. He left to return to his truck for a speculum, a metal device designed to hold a horse's mouth open.

Sarah couldn't stop the feeling of doom that was settling over her. Would they find something in Prince's throat that would take him away from her?

When Dr. Reynolds returned and entered the stall with the speculum, Prince was immediately apprehensive. Sarah tightened her hold on the lead shank when he began tossing his head and attempted to move away.

Dr. Reynolds beckoned to Jack. “We'll need some help keeping him steady,” he said. Jack entered the stall and placed a strong hand on Prince's halter. Under a tight hold from both Jack and Sarah, Prince's jaws were forced open and the speculum inserted. Sarah watched, almost holding her breath, as the vet played a flashlight in Prince's mouth at different angles and peered inside.

“Holy smoke!” Dr. Reynolds suddenly exclaimed, as he pushed the flashlight closer to get a better look. After a few moments he stepped back and turned to them. “I've never seen anything like this in my life. This horse has a large and grossly misshapen wolf tooth. It extends forward over the bars on the right side of his mouth.”

Jack and Chandler DeWitt looked at each other incredulously. Both had enough experience to immediately comprehend what this discovery could signify. It could very well explain why the horse had been unruly when he was under saddle. The bit would have been constantly banging against that wolf tooth, possibly causing Prince extreme pain.

The veterinarian beckoned to them as he held out the flashlight. “Here, Jack, I want you to take a look. You, too, Chandler.”

Crown Prince had come to accept the speculum in his mouth, and he stood fairly quietly while the two men took turns shining the flashlight into the horse's mouth. “‘Tis amazing how big that tooth is compared to his molars,” Jack said. “Sarah, I want you to see this.”

Sarah had never looked inside a horse's mouth before, but even to her, the guilty tooth looked grotesque.

“Did the people at the track say he ever had a problem accepting the bit when he was bridled?” Dr. Reynolds asked. “A wolf tooth of that size would almost certainly cause a lot of discomfort to a horse when a bit was in his mouth.” Again Jack and Mr. DeWitt looked at each other.

“I guess you've quite possibly solved the mystery, Wes,” DeWitt said, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is a well-bred Thoroughbred that had the potential to become a top racehorse, except he became so fractious in training they finally gave up on him. Having him gelded didn't help. He was offered to me along with three other geldings being culled from the string for various reasons.”

“I can certainly believe he would react violently when ridden,” Dr. Reynolds said. “The minute a rider put any pressure on the reins, he likely experienced jarring pain in his jaw. I would expect him to be unruly, and I'm really surprised his mouth was never checked. But then, most racetrack vets focus on horses' legs, where the problems usually lie.”

Mr. DeWitt thought on this a moment. “Both Hank Bolton and his trainer are knowledgeable horsemen, so I admit it does seem surprising. It appears they left it up to a veterinarian to check the horse without specific direction from them—and that vet made a huge omission when he or she didn't look at Crown Prince's mouth.”

“Because they interfere with the bit, in Ireland wolf teeth are routinely pulled before horses are broken to saddle,” Jack said.

Dr. Reynolds nodded. “I would say about half of all horses develop wolf teeth. Some lie undeveloped below the gum. But I've never seen one this size.” He took back the flashlight.

Sarah stood next to her horse, spellbound by what she had heard. She didn't understand all the details, but she knew this could very well explain her horse's rowdy behavior. Her mind raced. No wonder he'd acted so badly on the racetrack! This was the reason he would behave well in his stall and on the shed row, but turn into a maniac out on the track with a rider on his back. The whole thing made perfect sense. He didn't have a mean streak after all, and once the tooth was removed, he'd be the horse of her dreams. She'd be able to keep him!

“Well, Sarah,” Mr. DeWitt said, “it looks like you and your horse got a lucky break. I suspect the tooth's removal will be a fairly simple procedure. With that gone, Crown Prince just might ride as quietly as a hobby-horse.” He raised his hand. “But we mustn't get carried away,” he said. “We still need to check him for lameness. Shall we move our operation to the indoor? It shouldn't be busy on a Monday morning.”

Prince shook his head and worked his jaws rapidly when the speculum was removed from his mouth. “I'll exchange the speculum for my hoof testers in my truck and meet you there,” Dr. Reynolds said.