Horseshoe (5 page)

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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

BOOK: Horseshoe
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A receptionist looked up at her and smiled. Before Lisa could speak, a big brown and yellow dog came around the desk to meet her. “Champ!” said Lisa. She bent to pet him, and his tail beat furiously against the floor.

“Have you been here before?” the receptionist asked.

“No,” said Lisa, “but I heard all about Champ. I’m Lisa Atwood. I’m a member of Horse Wise Pony Club, and Doc Tock came to talk to us. She said we could visit anytime.”

“I’m Letty,” the receptionist said, “and Dr. Takamura is the vet working here today. Wait just a sec and I’ll get her for you.”

When Doc Tock came in, Lisa began to introduce herself again, but Doc Tock held up a hand. “You’re with the Pony Club, right?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m Lisa Atwood,” Lisa said again.

“I remember your face,” Doc Tock said. “Would you like to see the place?” Lisa nodded. “I’ll be happy to show it to you, but let me finish up this one job first. Come on in.” She stepped into one of the treatment rooms, and Lisa followed.

Inside, on a stainless-steel examining table, was a large cardboard box. Inside the box, nestled on a white towel, were three baby raccoons. Lisa exclaimed with delight.

“I’m vaccinating them for rabies,” said Doc Tock. “Put on a pair of these gloves and you can hold them for me.”

The raccoons were the cutest babies Lisa had ever seen—all bright eyes, long noses, and long-fingered paws. They sniffed Lisa’s fingers busily while she held them, and one of them tried to catch hold of her hair. “They’re so adorable,” said Lisa. “I’d love to have one for a pet. Are they up for adoption?”

“No,” said Doc Tock, capping the last of the syringes and throwing it away. “No, Lisa. These are wild animals, and we never put wild animals up for adoption. They aren’t meant to be pets. They’re cute and easy to care for now, but they grow up to be big raccoons with wild raccoon instincts. They’re much happier in the wild—what we want to do is be sure they are healthier in the wild too.” She picked up the box and carried it out of the room, motioning for Lisa to follow.

The next room was long and bright and filled with many different types of animal cages. Doc Tock settled
the baby raccoons back into their own cage, and they immediately began to romp and play.

“On this side,” Doc Tock explained, “we keep cages just for animals that come in for neutering. We run a low-cost spay and neuter clinic, and we’ve always got some clients.” Lisa peered into some of the cages. A dog, evidently recently back from surgery, blinked sleepily at her, and a cat arched its back against the cage door.

Farther down the room Lisa met some of the animals who were recovering from accidents that had brought them to CARL. In one pen she saw the baby skunks that Doc Tock had predicted would be born on Saturday. “Were they really born on Saturday?” she asked.

“You bet. Just a half hour after I returned here. Not that I really needed to do anything, but since the mother is slightly injured, I thought someone should be around in case there were problems. There weren’t, though, and the whole family will be released to the wild just as soon as the mom can make it on her own.” Doc Tock checked the mother skunk over briefly as she talked.

“Are they really better off in the wild?” Lisa asked. “I mean, they were hurt in the first place in the wild.
They wouldn’t be here otherwise.” She still wished she could have one of the baby raccoons.

“Well, no,” said Doc Tock, pausing to consider Lisa’s question. “No, that’s not exactly true. They’re usually here because of human interference with their life in the wild—they were hit by cars, wounded by hunters, that sort of thing.

“These really aren’t domestic animals, Lisa. In most cases they can’t be trained, the way horses can, and in some cases they can’t even be tamed.” She smiled and patted Lisa’s shoulder. “I can see you really care about them,” she said. “Trust me. They’re happier with their freedom.”

They continued outside to the dog runs. “Domestic animals, on the other hand, sometimes suffer from too much freedom. This friendly dog is a perfect example.” Doc Tock opened the first pen and she and Lisa stepped inside. A big yellow dog leapt toward them. It jumped up and down under Lisa’s nose, wagging its tail with delight.

“He’s wonderful,” said Lisa, throwing her arms around him. The dog, overjoyed, licked her clear across her face and smeared muddy paw prints down the front of her shirt. Lisa, laughing, pushed him away. “Maybe too wonderful,” she said.

“Exactly,” said Doc Tock. She refilled the dog’s water
bowl and they stepped back outside the pen, but first they had to push the enthusiastic dog away several more times. Doc Tock sighed and gave the dog a final pat through the wire mesh of the fence.

“His name is Trump,” she said. “His owner was a busy executive who never took the time to train him. When he was a puppy it didn’t matter, but now that he’s a grown dog the man says he can’t manage him. There isn’t an ounce of meanness in him though, and I’m sure we’ll be able to find him a good home. Someone will think he’s worth the trouble of training.”

“Is he a golden retriever?” asked Lisa. “He looks like it.”

“No, he’s a mixed breed, but he’s probably got a lot of retriever in him. If he were purebred I doubt he’d be here—the owner might have thought he was worth the expense of professional training.”

“I’m sure someone will love him,” Lisa said. She stood watching Trump while Doc Tock checked another dog. For a moment she considered adopting him herself. Then she checked the idea—she already had a dog, a little Lhasa apso named Dolly. Lisa was reasonably sure that Dolly wouldn’t like Trump at all. Besides, Lisa wasn’t sure that she had time to train
Trump either. He deserved a better owner the second time around.

Doc Tock came back to Lisa. “I know you like horses,” she said.

“Like them?” asked Lisa. “I
love
them.”

Doc Tock smiled but didn’t look at all happy. “Then try not to be too upset with what I’ll show you next,” she said. “We don’t often have horses here, but we do have one now, and he’s not good. He was severely abused.”

They turned the corner to face a small paddock. At one end, a tiny wooden stable held two stalls. The paddock was bright with good green grass, but the horse stood in the center as if he were unaware of the grass and everything else around him.

Lisa gasped, and tears came to her eyes. She gripped the top rail of the paddock fence so tightly that later she found splinters in her palms, but she couldn’t feel anything right then except horror. Someone had done this to a horse.

He was a bay—or would have been a bay, Lisa thought. His coat was dull and rough from bad food and no grooming, and in many places the hair had fallen out entirely, leaving raw patches of open skin. His scraggly tail was hunched between his
back legs. His ears hung almost flat and his eyes were dull.

“Look at his feet,” Doc Tock said quietly.

Lisa stared. She knew that some horses, particularly those that weren’t ridden often, didn’t need to wear shoes, but she also knew that all horses needed their feet trimmed regularly. This horse’s feet had not been trimmed; they had been allowed to grow out like great curving sled runners and here and there big pieces of hoof wall had chipped away. Lisa winced, knowing how it must hurt him to walk and even to stand.

“His name is Sal,” said Doc Tock.

“Sal,” Lisa repeated. “Can I go up to him?”

“If you walk quietly. But, Lisa—don’t pet him. He’s still covered with fleas and ticks. I don’t want you to catch any.”

Lisa pulled a handful of tall grass and walked slowly up to Sal’s side. He stood unblinking, not trying to move away, or, even, thought Lisa, acting like he knew she was there. She held the grass under his nose. He inhaled slowly and moved his ears halfway forward. Slowly, very slowly, he reached out his top lip and took a few blades of grass. Then he sighed and dropped his head again.

Lisa looked at him closely. His bones showed
clearly beneath his skin. Along one side were some ragged scars—spur marks, or a whip? One hind leg hung slack, and Lisa could see that it was not because he was merely resting, but because he had a festering sore just above his hock.

“He hardly even ate the grass, and he isn’t grazing,” Lisa said as she slipped back through the fence near Doc Tock.

“I’m surprised that he paid as much attention to you as he did,” she replied. “Lisa, this poor horse is one of the worst cases I’ve seen in years. What you see is only part of the problem—he’s got raging parasite infestations. He’s so malnourished that I’m not sure he’s strong enough to withstand the treatment he has to have. Old Sal might not make it.”

“How could someone do this to a horse?” Lisa cried.

Doc Tock put a comforting hand on her arm. “The owner is being brought up on criminal charges,” she said with a voice of grim satisfaction. “He left this horse in a tiny pen with not enough grass to survive and only the rainwater that pooled in one corner to drink. He left town for a few months, and forgot him. I don’t know how people do it, Lisa, but once in a while they do.”

Lisa swallowed hard. “I just can’t believe he’s going
to die,” she whispered. “He seems like such a nice animal.” Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.

“He is. He’s been willing and cooperative about everything we’ve done. That might not be enough.” She steered Lisa away from the paddock. “Come inside and let’s have something to drink. I can see you’re upset. Lisa, you shouldn’t be.”

Over a glass of cold fruit juice Doc Tock tried to reassure Lisa some more. “After all, our job here at CARL is the good side. We’re doing good work. We’re saving many animals. Lisa, this is a place of joy—even if we don’t accomplish everything we want to.

“Think of it this way. This little horse, Sal, might die here. But if he does, at least his last days will be spent in comfort, with kind people caring for him. The love he gets here may be the first love he’s ever received.”

Lisa agreed. That much at least made sense to her. “If he lives, maybe I can help you find him a good home,” she offered. “Max Regnery, our instructor at Pine Hollow, knows a lot of people who work with horses.”

“That’d be great,” Doc Tock said. “We’d like your help. I’ll let you know how Sal does.”

Riding home, Lisa thought she could hardly bear to hear it if Sal died. She wanted him to live—she
wanted to see him grow healthy and strong, and play in his paddock and graze like the horses at Pine Hollow. But she understood all Doc Tock had said, and she was more convinced than ever that CARL needed support. The Saddle Club would have to think of something.

W
HEN
L
ISA GOT
home, she had only one thought on her mind. They had to have a Saddle Club meeting. Now. She called Stevie.

“They tightenedth all the wireth on my teeth,” Stevie said. “I can’th talk.”

“We need to have a meeting,” Lisa insisted. “Suck on a Popsicle, your mouth will feel better. I’ll be over in five minutes and we can walk to Pine Hollow. I know that’s where Carole is.”

“Where elth would thee be?” agreed Stevie.

At Pine Hollow they found that Carole had just finished Starlight’s workout. She greeted them gladly. “We just had the best ride,” she said enthusiastically.
“You should have seen him! I set up a jump course in the ring, and he just flew!” She patted Starlight’s sweating flank.

“Wonderful!” said Stevie. “Not that he ever isn’th—I mean isn’t.” Carole looked at her quizzically. “Orthodontith,” Stevie explained.

“We came to have a Saddle Club meeting with you,” Lisa said. “I’ve got something I need to tell you two about right away.”

“Can it wait until I get Starlight cooled out?”

“Of course!”

Carole walked Starlight for several minutes and then got a bucket of warm water and sponged his sweaty coat. Lisa helped scrape him dry while Stevie put Carole’s tack away. Once they had Starlight settled, they headed for the hillside overlooking the ring.

“I just went to CARL,” Lisa said. “You wouldn’t believe all the stuff I saw.”

“Champ?” asked Stevie, who remembered Doc Tock’s talk. She grimaced and ran her finger over her braces. “They’re not hurting so much now,” she admitted. “That Popsicle idea was a good one.”

“I saw Champ, but I also saw a lot of animals who were hurting,” Lisa said. “Some of them were wild animals, and some were just neglected. There was this
perfectly beautiful dog named Trump—his only problem was that no one had taken the time to train him.”

“That’s terrible,” said Carole. “I know how important it is to train animals properly—horses are so strong that they can be really dangerous if they aren’t well trained.”

“This dog is almost as big as a pony. But that wasn’t the bad part,” Lisa said, resolutely bringing them back to her story. “They had a horse.”

“A horse?” Carole and Stevie leaned forward.

Lisa’s eyes filled with tears as she recalled the horse in CARL’s paddock. “I can’t help it,” she said. “He was the saddest thing I ever saw. His name is Sal.” She covered her face with her hands.

Stevie and Carole put their arms around her. “CARL will take care of him,” Stevie reassured her.

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