strain. That thick, stout body with its heavy ham-like arms worked against the metal, struggling to get the bumper loose. For long minutes Freddy looked anything but old as he slowly pried the bumper away from the fender, the metal giving up with a long rending screech.
Leaning hard against Clyde's flank to steady him, I reached a hand gently down the horse's trapped leg and pulled it free as Freddy's crowbar inexorably widened the gap between fender and bumper. Clyde held his leg up for a second, trembling, as blood dripped off of it, then set the foot gingerly down on the ground and stood. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Clyde was able to bear weight on his leg.
"Do you want me to have a look at it?" I asked Katie.
"Please." Katie's face was calm, as was her voice, but I could see tears in her eyes. She was petting Clyde's neck gently, reflexively, over and over.
"I'll get my emergency kit and be right back."
The emergency kit was in the tack box of the horse trailer. A small, waterproof chest, it contained tranquilizers, painkillers, needles and syringes, antibiotics, bandaging materials, thermometer, stethoscope, and wound dressing. At the very bottom was a kill shot, loaded and waiting. Thank God it wasn't needed now. Packing the whole chest back to where Clyde was standing, I gave him a shot of butazone in the jugular vein-to reduce the pain and keep inflammation at a minimum-then washed the wound, which was less severe than it appeared, stitched it, and applied a pressure wrap. Giving Katie a bottle of antibiotics and some bute pills, I told her, "Keep him on these for five days; the dosages are written on the bottles. You'll need to rewrap this every other day at first. Then after a week, every third day. Two weeks from now, let me or your regular vet have a look-the stitches can probably come out then."
"Okay." Katie nodded and took the stuff. She was still rubbing Clyde's neck. "Thanks, Gail."
I smiled and rubbed the horse's neck, too. "I think he'll be all right."
"I sure hope so."
Katie led Clyde off toward her trailer. He limped, but he could walk. I felt an immeasurable relief and gratitude, and said a small prayer of thanks. Lonny tapped me on the shoulder and I turned.
"He gonna be okay?" Lonny's eyes were concerned.
"I think so."
"That's good." He handed me a hundred-dollar bill. "Your share. We won. It paid two hundred dollars."
"It did?" For a moment I was confused. I'd forgotten all about the competition, didn't realize that the rest of the high teams had been taking their turns as I was working on Clyde. I hadn't even heard Freddy bellowing out the winners. Under the circumstances the money seemed anticlimactic.
But still, my first win. Smiling at Lonny, I tried to conjure up a congratulatory attitude and felt myself grabbed and hugged from behind. Lonny's face registered only amusement; before I could react further I heard Bronc's rough voice in my ear. "Honey, I could use a roping partner like you. You bring in the money and you could stitch up my old pony when he gets hurt. You ready to trade old Lonny in on a better model?"
Lonny howled with laughter at that. "At least you can't say younger, Bronc."
Turning, I gave Bronc a quick hug.
"Anytime," he chuckled. "Anytime."
Looking at Lonny, I said, "I'll unsaddle Gunner, if you're done with him."
"Thanks." Lonny was already getting on Pistol.
"Don't you want to rope anymore?" he asked me.
"I don't think so. I've had enough action for one day. I think I’ll quit while I'm ahead."
Lonny barely heard me; he was already riding away. His mind was focused on competing and anything that didn't pertain to that he tended to ignore.
This was fine with me. I untied Gunner and climbed on him, scanning the crowd. What I was planning to do next was something Lonny definitely wouldn't have approved of. I was going to corner Trav and have a talk.
ELEVEN
Cornering Trav turned out to be easy. I simply rode up to him where he sat on his little
Leaning hard against Clyde's flank to steady him, I reached a hand gently down the horse's trapped leg and pulled it free as Freddy's crowbar inexorably widened the gap between fender and bumper. Clyde held his leg up for a second, trembling, as blood dripped off of it, then set the foot gingerly down on the ground and stood. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Clyde was able to bear weight on his leg.
"Do you want me to have a look at it?" I asked Katie.
"Please." Katie's face was calm, as was her voice, but I could see tears in her eyes. She was petting Clyde's neck gently, reflexively, over and over.
"I'll get my emergency kit and be right back."
The emergency kit was in the tack box of the horse trailer. A small, waterproof chest, it contained tranquilizers, painkillers, needles and syringes, antibiotics, bandaging materials, thermometer, stethoscope, and wound dressing. At the very bottom was a kill shot, loaded and waiting. Thank God it wasn't needed now. Packing the whole chest back to where Clyde was standing, I gave him a shot of butazone in the jugular vein-to reduce the pain and keep inflammation at a minimum-then washed the wound, which was less severe than it appeared, stitched it, and applied a pressure wrap. Giving Katie a bottle of antibiotics and some bute pills, I told her, "Keep him on these for five days; the dosages are written on the bottles. You'll need to rewrap this every other day at first. Then after a week, every third day. Two weeks from now, let me or your regular vet have a look-the stitches can probably come out then."
"Okay." Katie nodded and took the stuff. She was still rubbing Clyde's neck. "Thanks, Gail."
I smiled and rubbed the horse's neck, too. "I think he'll be all right."
"I sure hope so."
Katie led Clyde off toward her trailer. He limped, but he could walk. I felt an immeasurable relief and gratitude, and said a small prayer of thanks. Lonny tapped me on the shoulder and I turned.
"He gonna be okay?" Lonny's eyes were concerned.
"I think so."
"That's good." He handed me a hundred-dollar bill. "Your share. We won. It paid two hundred dollars."
"It did?" For a moment I was confused. I'd forgotten all about the competition, didn't realize that the rest of the high teams had been taking their turns as I was working on Clyde. I hadn't even heard Freddy bellowing out the winners. Under the circumstances the money seemed anticlimactic.
But still, my first win. Smiling at Lonny, I tried to conjure up a congratulatory attitude and felt myself grabbed and hugged from behind. Lonny's face registered only amusement; before I could react further I heard Bronc's rough voice in my ear. "Honey, I could use a roping partner like you. You bring in the money and you could stitch up my old pony when he gets hurt. You ready to trade old Lonny in on a better model?"
Lonny howled with laughter at that. "At least you can't say younger, Bronc."
Turning, I gave Bronc a quick hug.
"Anytime," he chuckled. "Anytime."
Looking at Lonny, I said, "I'll unsaddle Gunner, if you're done with him."
"Thanks." Lonny was already getting on Pistol.
"Don't you want to rope anymore?" he asked me.
"I don't think so. I've had enough action for one day. I think I’ll quit while I'm ahead."
Lonny barely heard me; he was already riding away. His mind was focused on competing and anything that didn't pertain to that he tended to ignore.
This was fine with me. I untied Gunner and climbed on him, scanning the crowd. What I was planning to do next was something Lonny definitely wouldn't have approved of. I was going to corner Trav and have a talk.
ELEVEN
Cornering Trav turned out to be easy. I simply rode up to him where he sat on his little
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