Chapter Three

David makes putting the corral together look easy.

“You connect the panels with the metal pins, like this. See?” he asks. “Do those over there the same way. It should look like an octagon once it’s finished.”

I try to pin two panels together and manage to drop everything. It’s a good thing David’s here to help. The kids in line are getting impatient, and Gus still hasn’t gotten the second pony out of the trailer. All we can hear is his muffled voice and a lot of pony stomping and clomping. It doesn’t sound like either one of them is happy.

“That guy is not very good with horses,” David says, concerned. “No wonder it doesn’t want to come out.”

We finally finish pinning the corral panels and weigh them down with heavy sandbags from the truck. I’m sweating from all the unexpected work.

“Do you have a gate?” David calls to Gus.

“Do you see a gate?” Gus snarls.

David makes a face at me. “We’ll leave a little space between those last two panels for kids to get in and out of the corral.”

By now, a crowd of people has gathered in the parking lot. Jules is trying to keep the little kids entertained, but a couple of them have started to fidget.

“Do we need to put a saddle on her or anything?” I ask David.

“Of course,” David says. “How else are the kids going to ride?”

I don’t really want to explain to him that I know absolutely nothing about ponies. Or horses. I’m not even sure what the difference is.

A noisy commotion in the horse trailer saves me from having to answer him.

Gus squeezes out the side door of the trailer and kicks the door closed. “Dog meat!” he shouts. “You’re gonna be dog meat if you don’t back your rump out of there!”

“Hey there, Mr. Gus,” I say loudly, hoping none of the little kids heard what he just said.

David must be thinking the same thing. He jogs over to the trailer. “May I try?” he asks.

“Suit yourself,” Gus grumbles. “That pony’s so stubborn, he might as well be a mule.” Gus stalks over to the far end of the parking lot and lights a cigarette.

David pokes his head in the trailer window. “Hey there, boy,” he says gently. “Having a rough time this morning? I would be, too, if I were stuck in this stinky trailer.” He turns and whispers to me, “This trailer is disgusting. Looks like it hasn’t been cleaned out in months.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I’m in way over my head. I mean, I love animals, but I’ve only ever been around little ones, like bunnies and cats. Ponies or horses—whatever—they’re way bigger than bunnies and cats. They seem to be a lot more trouble, too.

David strokes the brown and white pony through the window. “Let’s see if we can get you out here in the fresh air. Come on, buddy.” He turns to me. “Can you get some carrots or maybe an apple? We can use them to lure him out.”

Now there’s something I can help with. I run past Babe, go inside the store, and snag some of Cuddles and Lolli’s carrots. But it’s no use. Buster still won’t move, not even for a yummy treat.

“Horses and ponies are creatures of habit,” David says. “And some don’t like walking backward. I helped Mr. Quinn’s horse, Trickster, get used to his trailer. He didn’t like going in or out, either. Maybe Babe can help us out. Josh, bring her over here.”

“Me?” I ask.

“I don’t think Gus is going to help, do you?”

I swallow hard and hope David doesn’t realize how nervous I am. Babe watches me carefully as I untie her lead. “Just don’t bite me, okay?” I whisper. Once she’s untied, I walk her to the trailer, and her hooves clip-clop on the asphalt behind me. She smells horsey: dusty and sweaty, with a hint of hay and Mom’s basil. Suddenly, she head-butts me right in the middle of my back and almost sends me crashing to the ground.

“What the heck are you kids up to?” Gus shouts from across the parking lot. “I already got that one out.”

“Buster shakes every time that dude yells,” David says, annoyed. “It’s okay, buddy, look, here comes Babe.”

I hand him her lead and rub my back. “Careful. She thinks she’s a goat.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” David says. “I think she likes you.”

David leads Babe back into the trailer. The two ponies nuzzle each other’s necks, and Buster lets out a big sigh.

“Okay then,” David says. “Let’s try this again.” He clicks his tongue. “That’s it, Buster. Just do like Babe is doing. Easy does it.”

And sure enough, David manages to coax Buster to follow in Babe’s footsteps and back out of the trailer. “Good boy, Buster! That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Buster snorts and looks around the parking lot, taking everything in: the corral, the back of the store, the Dumpster, and the line of excited kids sitting with Jules, their parents standing behind them. He keeps looking back to Babe, as if he wants her to tell him that everything is going to be okay.

I understand the feeling totally.

Buster has a small white star of fur on his forehead and a white patch on his muzzle, like Babe’s. His coat is a pretty combination of reddish-brown and white patches, but it’s matted down and dirty. His white legs are splattered with dried mud and manure. I was hoping that Buster would be younger and perkier than Babe, but he’s even more of a mess.

David notices, too.

“Hey buddy,” he says, touching the pony’s tangled mane. “When was the last time you were groomed?” He pats Buster on the head and the pony shies a bit. “It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.”

David tells me to lead Babe into the pipe corral, and he follows right behind with Buster. The waiting kids clap, and Sophie starts singing her pony song again.

“Thank you. Thank you.” David bows to the crowd and hams it up. “I’m a certified horse genius, if I do say so myself.”

“Ha,” I say. “I wouldn’t go that far, but you don’t completely stink at pony handling.” I punch his shoulder, not too hard, just friendly. This could have been a nightmare without his help.

“Ow, ow, ow!” David rubs his shoulder and fakes that he’s in pain. “You’re just jealous of my amazing horse-taming skills.”

I try to smile because he’s just teasing, but the truth is I am jealous. It’s like David was born to deal with these ponies. Jules is a natural with rabbits—that’s why we call her the Bunny Whisperer. At Dr. Mac’s clinic, Maggie’s in charge of dogs, Sunita is the cat expert, and Brenna, well, she’s the nature girl who connects with all the wild critters. I like animals, too, but I don’t have special skills the way they do. In fact, I’m not sure I should be a Vet Volunteer at all.

Gus slams the back door of the trailer closed. Buster startles and pulls at his lead rope.

“Whoa there, buddy,” David says. “Everything’s fine.” Buster relaxes as David pets his neck. “You should have seen me with Trickster,” David says. “He was terrified of the trailer because he’d been in an accident in one. He’s a lot bigger and more powerful than these old ponies. He’s more than sixteen hands high.”

“Hands?” I ask, confused.

“Horses are measured in hands, didn’t you know that? Each hand is four inches. Buster and Babe are maybe ten hands high. You weren’t here at Thanksgiving, were you? I got to ride Trickster in the Ambler Thanksgiving parade. We looked pretty good, if I do say so myself. But you should really see my dad’s horse, King’s Shadow—”

“Let’s get the pony rides started,” I interrupt. “You can tell me that other stuff later.”

Mom pops her head out the back door and calls to me. “How’s it going out here?”

“Great,” I smile and wave. “We’re just about ready.”

Babe lifts one foot in the air like she is waving, too. Mom smiles and goes back in. Good thing she didn’t notice what Babe ate for breakfast.