The Vet Comes Up
Thou call’st me a dog before thou has a cause, but since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
–Shakespeare
Next morning we hiked down hollow to tell Byron about Sam’s teeth. He left off fixing his pasture gate; just dropped the fence tool on the ground and went and got his truck.
“Nothing keeps them ponies in anyways, Boy Jeez,” he said as he opened the door of the cab for us. On the way up hollow we told him about the umbrella and everything else. Byron nodded in silence. The horses were in. Byron haltered Sam and stood him in a corner of the run-in. He took hold of Sam’s tongue and pulled it gently aside. He inserted a finger to feel the horse’s molars.
“Boy Jeez, I can feel a burr. You girls hit it right this time,” he chuckled.
“Can you fix him?”
“Boy Jeez, I never done teeth. That’s a job for the vet. He got the right tools.”
“Do you think the vet would let us do some work for him in trade for coming up and fixing Sam’s teeth?” I asked.
“Well, Boy Jeezum, I dunno could be,” said Byron, “But come to think of it, my show harness needs cleaning for next week’s pull. Top of that, I been meaning to move some old boards out of the shed to make a stall for a new pony I picked up over to Kennedy’s. I’ve got to take Her to the doctor after dinner, so maybe you could do my chores, and I’ll pay you for the trouble.”
So we drove back down and went to work soaping Byron’s fancy show harness, buffing up the brass bosses and buckles with silver polish. Then we moved the boards, being careful of the big spikes sticking through them. We didn’t want Byron to wander by and notice we were hobbling around with nails in our feet.
When we were done Byron gave us five bucks apiece. With our allowances and savings thrown in, we thought we could cover a vet bill. So when Mom and Dad were downstreet grocery shopping we called up Dr. Melton. He said his fee was twelve bucks to float teeth and he would be in the neighborhood today. We said come on up; Evvie retreated to her room for some reason, and I went and sat on the stoop to wait. My parents got home first, but the vet’s truck was in their dust right behind.
“And who might that be turning in our lane?” Dad wanted to know.
“Oh, that’ll be the vet,” I said, upping my chin and turning my back on him to go meet Dr. Melton. Evvie didn’t come down; she had a better sense of what was going to happen than I had, but I got to watch Dr. Melton put the speculum on Sam, back him into a corner, open his mouth up, and slide a narrow rasp way back in there.
Sam had a very surprised expression on his face while the rasping was going on, but he stood like a rock for several minutes until Dr. Melton was finished. He made no move to leave after the vet took the speculum off and turned him loose. I scratched my steed’s forehead while the vet packed up.
“You made a sound diagnosis, young woman,” Dr. Melton said to me.
“I—I’ve had been reading up on veterinary medicine.”
“Good for you. You’re a fine horsewoman and you’re doing a good job with this big fella. He has perfect ground manners. He’s a pleasure to work around.”
“Thanks.”
“Maybe you should consider going to vet school.”
Dr. Melton smiled at me as we walked back down the lane together.
“Really?”
“You have good powers of observation and a nice knack with animals. I’m sure you would do well,” I paid Dr. Melton and he shook my hand, as if I was an adult.
I stood in the road smiling and waving as the vet drove off down hollow. I stood there until the road dust settled.
“How dare you,” began Dad, “deliberately call the vet up here when I expressly told you not to?”
I smirked up my face and said “You did not either tell me not to call him, and besides we paid him ourselves. So there.”
“And just where did you get the money?” Dad yelled.
“From Byron! We—”
“From Byron? You SNUCK down there BEHIND MY BACK and begged money from that poor old man?”
“Well I sure knew YOU wouldn’t give it to me!”
“Waste my money for some imaginary illness of that goddamn stupid old nag? Not likely! Can’t you do anything right? Why the hell is it you are always getting hysterical over that STUPID GODDAMN HORSE?”
“BECAUSE I LOVE HIM MORE THAN YOU!” I shrieked at the top of my voice. “YOU ROTTEN, STUPID GODDAMN, SELFISH HORSE-HATING MAN!”
Dad and I stared at each other. Then I was on the ground seeing stars.
Mom dashed out and got on her knees next to me and hugged me and started pleading with Dad.
“Dave, she’s just a….”
Dad rounded on her, red in the face and shaking.
“You! This is all your fault! You always let this kid get away with murder. She deliberately defied me and continues to defy me. She is ruining this family! Get her packed, I want her out of here.”
“Where can she go?” Mom sobbed.
“I don’t care. To your sister’s. I don’t want anything to do with her, until she apologizes to me and learns to show me some respect.”
He turned his back on Mom, got in the car, and turned over the engine.
I raged up to our room, taking the stairs two at a time and yanked my dresser drawers out onto the floor. Mom followed me up.
“If you’d only just say you’re…”
“NO!” I was shaking all over as I stuffed some clothes and books in a pillowcase and stormed back outside. Dad had the car idling. He got out and for the last time demanded an apology.
“I don’t have anything to apologize for, you do, you called my horse stupid, and said he had an imaginary disease, and so when are you going to apologize to me?”
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that, or so help me God!” Dad grabbed my arm and tried to shove me into the car. I fought back, and he slapped me and yarned me around. I knew he was hurting me, but I felt nothing at all. I kept fighting and kicking and screaming the worst things I could think of at him. Cuss words I had kept private for years flooded out of my mouth. Mom was screaming and Evvie was howling and Robbie was barking and the world was spinning around upside down.
Dad crammed me into the car and drove off with me to the bus station in Briggsboro. I hunched up in the back seat, as far away from him as I could get, glaring out the window and listening to my heart pounding. Dad could punish me all he wanted, but I had done right. I had saved Sam. That was all that mattered.
About halfway there I calmed down enough to realize I was never going to see Sam again. Dad would probably sell him as part of my punishment. So I told my Dad I was sorry for saying all those terrible things, sorry I had disobeyed, sorry about everything. Dad turned the car around and drove back home. He never said he forgave me. Maybe because he knew I wasn’t really sorry.