The return to a regular feeding schedule, the added pain supplement, and, I believe, the companionship of my new friends all served greatly to restore my health. Our only remaining worry was the condition of my sight; the doctor’s test confirmed the presence of cancer in both my eyes, a cancer directly related to my absence of pigment and prolonged exposure to the sun.

How many days did I stand in my field in the full sun, feeling it well on my withers and loving that feeling? Yet every day the sun and my eyes waged battle with one another. Undoubtedly, I will someday lose this battle, for no being on this earth is stronger than a star. Knowing the cause of my encroaching blindness, I thought I began to feel my cancer stretching its roots deeper into my eyes, and beyond, with every ray of sun that touched me.

Though no one had offered any hope of improved vision in my left eye, all believed that with aggressive treatment, the remaining vision in my right eye could be preserved for some time. We would need to prepare for a lifetime of surgeries to remove any future carcinomas should they return, as Doctor Russ predicted. To have the malignancies removed, I was to be transported away from the Maury River Stables, beyond the blue mountains and into another valley farther away, in Albemarle County, where cases such as mine were handled every day.

It was an act of true compassion when Mother suggested that Mac accompany me to Albemarle. Claire did not want me to be alone. Mother consented to pay the trailer fee and all lodging costs for Mac to board with me at the hospital that was to save what remained of my sight. Mac gladly agreed to travel with me. I could think of no one besides Mac who would give me greater comfort, except of course Claire herself.

Mother withdrew Claire from school on the day I left the blue mountains for my surgery. Claire did not seem afraid for me and of that I was glad. She spent the morning preparing us for our departure. Claire made a big fuss over Mac and me, grooming us both and treating us to more stud biscuits than was customary. Mrs. Maiden and Mother couldn’t help but fawn over us, too. Claire readied the trailer by mucking out dung from a previous trip, filling the hay nets with plenty of fresh hay, and stringing the nets side by side in the trailer, should we feel like eating along the way. When the trailer was ready for us, Claire clipped the lead rope to my halter and walked me inside. Mother followed behind with Mac.

Claire had drawn a picture for me, too, which she had secured to the wall of the trailer. The drawing showed the peaks of Saddle Mountain grandly filling the page, with two friends standing in the saddle between the peaks. The friends — a girl and a horse — nuzzled each other face-to-face. Claire pointed out to me the shape of a heart rising between the two. Then she made Mrs. Maiden promise to keep the picture with me in my room at the hospital. Claire nuzzled me. “When you feel scared over there, just look at the picture and remember me and Saddle Mountain. We’ll be here when you come home.”

Mother had wet eyes; Claire did not, but stood smiling and blowing me kisses until Mrs. Maiden shut the trailer windows, leaving only a sliver of light visible to me.

Though I could only see slight glimpses of her, I could hear Claire running beside the trailer all the way down the drive. “Bye, Chancey! Bye, Mac! I love you both! Come back soon!” Claire’s words did not stumble once.

I whinnied a loud good-bye and hoped she could hear me, too. I’m sure that Claire stood at the end of the drive waving at us until we were long out of sight. I did not have enough time to say a decent farewell to Claire and Saddle Mountain. The narrow road switched over and back onto itself, and soon nothing of Saddle Mountain was visible. I had lived every day of my life standing within sight of it. Even on the days when its peaks hid under a blanket of fog or behind a blinding white snowstorm, Saddle Mountain and I stood together.

As Mrs. Maiden drove farther away from the Maury River Stables, I lost my breath and could not find it. For many miles, I strained to see something familiar out the window slot. My nervous bowels began to rumble. Mac nickered to me, “You’re okay, Old App. The mountain will be here when we return, and so will your girl.” I found my breath and sniffed Claire’s drawing of us; it still smelled of Claire.

The surgery at Albemarle required only an overnight stay. Again my strong Appaloosa breeding aided me in recovering quickly. Of the surgery itself, I remember only that the nurses spoke very kindly to me just before I felt as if my legs had stopped working and I were going to fall down.

Mac’s presence soothed me greatly, for when I first woke up from surgery, I could see nothing at all. The Belgian remained attentive, ready to explain the situation to me.

I feared I would never see again. “Mac, everything is completely dark now. Has the surgery failed?”

“No, friend. Your eyes are both heavily bandaged. I heard them say you’ll have the right eye; they don’t know about the left. But you will see Saddle Mountain and you will see Claire, very soon.”

“Mac?” I asked. “Are you an old horse? You look very young indeed, but you seem older than I am at times. Are you old?”

“Not very,” Mac replied. “The dentist says I’m eight.”

“I think you are older than your teeth, Macadoo. How did that happen? What brought you to the Maury River Stables? Were you abandoned in a field, too?”

“Get some rest, Old App. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when you’re well.”

I did rest. Mac stood watch over me until Mrs. Maiden came to drive us back to the Maury River Stables. With bandages still on both eyes, I finally returned home. Claire greeted us at the gate, just exactly as she had promised she would.