CHAPTER TEN
Tish

The next afternoon Tish came. Kiera, Fran, and Jody took her out to meet Jigsaw.

“What a great little pony!” Tish said. “You’ve made a nice barn for him. So what’s the problem?”

“He doesn’t like to keep going fast,” Fran said. She told Tish about the barrel racing.

“He doesn’t like to keep jumping either,” Kiera said. She told Tish about the beanpoles.

“That could be him, or it could be you,” Tish said. “Radish taught you more about slowing ponies down than about keeping them going. But let’s check Jigsaw out.”

Tish felt Jigsaw’s ribs and said, “Hmm.” Fran and Kiera looked at each other.

She listened to his heartbeats and frowned. Mr. and Mrs. Shaw held hands.

She took out a tiny flashlight and flashed it in each of his eyes. “Ah,” she said. Jody twisted her fingers together.

Now Tish opened Jigsaw’s mouth. She looked inside.

“Oh, my,” she said. “My goodness!”

Now Fran and Kiera held hands. They didn’t really mean to. It just happened. Mrs. Shaw put one arm around Jody’s shoulders.

Tish let Jigsaw close his mouth. She turned.

“The good news,” she said, “is that Jigsaw is a very healthy pony for his age. You are taking wonderful care of him.”

“What’s the not-so-good news?” Mr. Shaw asked.

“The not-so-good news,” Tish said, “is that Jigsaw is a very old pony.”

“How old?” Fran asked.

Tish said, “From the looks of his teeth, about thirty-five. And that means you can’t ask him to do too much work.”

“How much is too much?” Kiera asked.

“Jigsaw’s been telling you,” Tish said. “Three jumps in a row is too much. Galloping around three barrels is too much. He can go for short gallops or slow rides that are a little longer. He can jump over one or two jumps. But that’s it.”

Fran looked at Kiera. Nobody else, not even Jody, understood what she was feeling.

Kiera looked back at Fran. Fran was the only person in the world who knew how she felt.

Jigsaw was old. Too old for barrel racing. Too old for jumping. When they’d dreamed of a pony, Fran and Kiera had dreamed of fast gallops and daring leaps. They had dreamed of long rides. They had dreamed of blue ribbons.

Those dreams were over, and now they had worries.

Fran asked, “Will he—” Kiera asked, “Is he going to—” “He’ll live a long time,” Tish said. “Especially if he gets good care.” She smiled sadly and shook her head. “But maybe you won’t want to keep him since he can’t do everything you want. Lots of people wouldn’t.”

Fran put her arms around Jigsaw’s neck. “We’re not like that!”

“We like Jigsaw as a person,” Kiera said. She hugged Jigsaw’s neck, too.

Her arms wrapped around Fran’s, and Fran’s wrapped around hers.

Fran said, “Jigsaw’s not the kind of pony you do things on—”

Kiera said, “That’s right. He’s the kind of pony you do things with!”

“He’s our friend,” Jody said. She kissed his ears.

“More like a member of the family,” said Mr. Shaw, sneaking an apple out of his pocket.

“He’s a great neighbor,” said the baby’s mother. She’d come over to see if something was wrong.

“-igsaw!” squealed the baby.

Jigsaw tickled the baby with his whiskers. This was turning into another party. More neighbors were crossing the street.

The telephone rang, and Mrs. Shaw answered it. “Tish is right—” she said. “He’s fine, just older than we—” The person she was talking to didn’t let her finish a single sentence.

Jigsaw ate Mr. Shaw’s apple. He breathed appley breath on Jody. He leaned into the hugs Kiera and Fran were giving him.

It wasn’t easy. The hugs were coming from two sides at once. But Jigsaw did it.

He really could do anything.