Horses

Daddy had said today would be our special day together. We would have gone to the movies and had pizza, but no, he was off rescuing yet another animal from its abusive owners. Couldn’t he have waited until tomorrow? I walked outside and sat on the porch. I guess he couldn’t have waited. The poor animal was probably in terrible condition, judging by the rest of the animals Daddy and I had rescued. Daddy and I rescue abused pets and wildlife and bring them to our barn where we feed and heal them until they can be re-entered into their natural habitat or given new homes. Some of them have died, but most of them have survived. I always wonder what he’s going to bring back. Usually a dog or goat that had been treated terribly. The fall leaves were just turning and I listened to the wind rustling through them as I thought about the importance of rescuing animals. Sometimes I just wished Daddy had a normal job, like a lawyer or something. Suddenly a roaring noise interrupted my reverie and Daddy’s truck came hurtling into the yard with the horse trailer bouncing along behind. I jumped up and ran to the pickup as it slowed and Daddy jumped out. His hair stuck out at strange angles, and he seemed unusually flustered about it. I started to ask him about it, but he interrupted me. “Fern! Go get a halter and lead rope and some hay. Go! Quickly!” “Don’t bother chasing him. He can’t run very far” I ran, instantly recognizing the urgency in his voice. When I got to the barn I dashed into the tack room and grabbed Gypsy’s purple halter and the first lead I could find and gathered up some hay from Ben’s empty stall. “Fern! I have to get this horse out! Come on!” “I’m coming!” I called as I sprinted back to the trailer. Panting, I handed Daddy the halter and lead rope. “I don’t need the hay right now, but I’ll tell you when I do,” Daddy said as he climbed up into the battered green trailer. “I may need some help up here.” I started to climb up but he motioned me down. “No, in a second. Just wait.” I pulled down the ramp and looked inside. I could just make out the outline of a horse. “OK, hand me the hay now.” I leaned in and handed the hay to Daddy. I faintly heard him murmuring to the horse. Coaxingly, he patted the horse on the neck. It calmed slightly, and Daddy, taking advantage of the moment, showed it the hay. It whickered faintly and began to nibble. Gently, Daddy tugged on the lead rope. A big mistake. The horse shied and reared. It threw its head back, nearly banging it on the roof. “Watch out, Fern! He’ll bolt now! Move!” Daddy yelled to me as he flattened himself against the inside of the trailer. I jumped out of the way just as the horse came charging down the ramp. “Don’t bother chasing him. He can’t run very far. Watch.” Daddy had come down to stand next to me. But I was agape at the state the horse was in. He was barely discernable as a horse, covered in mud and caked dirt. A gaping wound on his hip slowly oozed blood. His emaciated body quivered as he slowed to a halt, chest heaving. His ribs showed through his hide. I couldn’t believe that someone would do something that horrible to an animal. “What’s his name?” I asked Daddy. “Who knows? You name him.” “Frizbee,” I murmured to myself. I walked slowly toward Frizbee. He swung his head around and watched me warily. I whispered to him and didn’t look him in the eye. The trick was to appear unthreatening. I walked up and slowly took hold of his lead rope. Wearily, he followed me to the barn. I led him into Ben’s stall and took off his halter. I filled the bucket on the wall with warm water from the tack room sink and grabbed a sponge and the grooming box from the shelf and returned to where Frizbee was, standing in the exact same place I left him in. This horse needed some serious help. I curried off the muck and treated the wicked cut on his hip and gave him a tetanus shot, just in case. I sponged off the sweat and blood and rubbed him down with a rag. I dragged out the extra horse blanket we had had ever since Splash died. I carefully placed it over him and buckled it. I softly patted him and went into the feed shed to make him some hot bran mash. When I came back, Daddy was standing by the stall, looking in. “Good job, honey,” he said, hugging me. I glowed with pride. As I fed Frizbee his mash, I knew that I had done something wonderful for him and that my whole life would be dedicated to helping animals regain the joy of life. Lyra Mulhern, 13Gainesville, Florida Stephanie Andriulli, 13Lockport, New York

Emily shaded her green eyes from the hot Nevada sun. A tiny breeze blew a loose strand of her dusty brown hair and relieved the humidity that made the air hang thick and heavy. Her mother’s horse, Sweetie, shifted impatiently beneath her. Emily reassured her with a pat, but her mind was in the craggy mountains that loomed high and forbidding above horse and girl. She strained her eyes, searching for a cloud of dust kicked up by a figure on a lone horse. Finally she saw movement. A mustang, running wild and unkempt in the hills. Behind it was a small herd, all shabby and scarred. All of a sudden, they broke into a gallop. The stallion screamed his shrill emergency call. Was it a bobcat that so upset the herd? But then she saw a man who was waving a long lariat atop a bay quarter horse. Only then did she relax. She watched, enthralled, at the scene going on far above. Man and horse closed in on a handsome mare, coat gleaming in the sunlight. The horse received small signals from his rider that were only seen by the experienced eye. After lassoing a few mustangs, the pair rode down the steep cliff toward Emily. The man grinned with pride at the fine mare he had caught. “She ought to fetch a fair price,” her father determined. He worked for the Bureau of Land Management, capturing mustangs to sell at silent auctions to qualifying owners-to-be. “Yeah. Ain’t she gorgeous,” Emily replied. “Mom’s looking for you.” Finally she saw movement. A mustang running wild and unkempt in the hills “All right. Let’s go down to the house together.” The smiling Sarah Jenners came to the door to greet them in her apron, flour coating her arms up to her elbows. Nevertheless, she hugged her husband and daughter, speckling their clothes with whiteness. Joshua and Emily flicked the flour off onto the dry ground. Sarah looked at the mustangs Joshua had caught with a dreamy look in her eyes. “They’re so beautiful,” she told them. “That one isn’t so pretty—look, he’s got scars all over him. He’s a sorry sight, all right,” Joshua commented. “Oh, no—he’s the most beautiful of all.” Emily couldn’t say she agreed with this, but she decided not to press further. During supper, Joshua described his capture. “I was chasing the herd, and a pretty little mare caught my eye. I brought Wild Thing close to her to try to corner her, and just for a second I was distracted by a rearing horse. When I looked back toward the mare, she was gone.” “Maybe she went off in a hidden crevice,” Emily suggested. “You’re probably right,” her father agreed. “There are plenty of hiding places in the mountains.” He pushed his plate aside and rose from the table. “Well, I’d best get a good night’s sleep—I have a hard trek tomorrow.” Emily remembered that her father was going to the next county to sell some cattle, and wouldn’t be back until after dark. Joshua said good-night to his wife and daughter before getting ready for an early bedtime. “I wonder what happened to that mare Dad talked about,” Emily said to her mother when they were clearing the table. “Oh, I don’t know. The mustangs have secrets humans will never know,” answered Sarah. But Emily wanted to know. The question nagged at her even as she fell asleep. Emily was riding a horse through the mountains. She didn’t know whether it was Sweetie or Wild Thing or some other horse. She was searching for something exciting, but this was unknown to her also. Suddenly, a gleaming palomino mare stepped out of the shadows. She seemed to be glowing with some inner light and stood out like a beacon in contrast with the black night. Emily knew this was what she was searching for. She sat looking in awe at the magnificent creature looking back at her with large, wild eyes. They both remained motionless, as though frozen. Then, wisps of fog abruptly started to curl around the mare, shrouding her from Emily’s view. “No, no!” she cried out, reaching her arms desperately toward the mustang. A wail of disappointment tore from her throat. She woke up with her pillow damp from tears. Emily dressed like a zombie, eyes staring into space, thinking about the palomino mare. She pulled on her jeans and headed outside to saddle Sweetie. After scrawling a short note that said “Gone riding, back for breakfast,” she headed for the mountains. For the first two hours, Emily saw no sign of life except for the occasional jackrabbit springing across the path and the hawks soaring high in the sky. It was eight o’clock, and she knew her mother was up by now and preparing breakfast, but Emily had no thought of turning back—not until she saw the mustang mare. Another half-hour passed. Now her mother was probably getting a little worried. Emily continued to ride deeper into the mountains. Here was a low canyon, surrounded by mountains on all sides, except for the narrow space between. A brook bubbled across it. Emily’s heart leapt. This spot was the perfect home for a herd of mustangs! She directed Sweetie to the brook and gave her a long drink of the cool, refreshing water. Looking down into the water, she gasped. Behind her, she could see the reflection of a palomino horse! Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned her head so she could glimpse the mare. Nervously, the mustang sidestepped, wary of this human drinking at her brook. The sunlight made her smooth golden coat shine, and her mane and tail were long from years of growing. The mare stared at her with her big, deep brown eyes. Looking at her under the clear blue sky, for one shining moment, Emily thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world. Suddenly, Emily heard the shrill neigh of a mustang break the