Chapter 4
“That’s the new one,” Clara said. “I think she’s going to be a handful. We’d better go help.” She grabbed a halter and lead rope and headed towards the trailer. Grandma Nan was already well ahead, shoving carrots she grabbed from a big bag by the tack room door into the front pocket of her jeans while she walked.
Tory couldn’t imagine what “a handful” would be to Clara who seemed ready to tackle the world, so once again she kept her distance and slowly followed Grandma Nan and Clara.
A big square man with a red face, black cowboy hat and scuffed boots climbed out of the truck and swaggered towards the trailer hitching up his jeans as he walked.
“I don’t know about this one,” he said shaking his head.. “Might be a lot, even for you guys.”
“Never mind Cecil,” Grandma Nan said. “You always say that and we’re always able to bring them around. Who do you have for us today?”
“Well we found this Paint Mare out on the old abandoned Miller farm,” Cecil drawled as he spit thick clumps of brownish tobacco spit on the ground. His aim wasn’t all that accurate which Tory figured explained the dark stains on the toes of his boots. “I heard she had a foal that didn’t make it and that made Old Miller mad enough to throw her out in the field with the other horses he gave up on. She’s big enough to hold her own, but she was out there in the field with some pretty tough stallions. There wasn’t much grass out there for any of them so she’s in pretty rough shape. She’s not real fond of people, that’s for sure. It took four of us to catch her and five of us to get her in the trailer. Good thing she’s half starving and beaten down or we would have had to put her down right there. You can try and see what you can do, but mind she doesn’t kill you in the process.” Cecil cautiously opened up the back doors of the trailer and pulled a ramp out from underneath the trailer, attaching it securely to hooks before easing it down to the ground.
Tied to the front of the trailer was the biggest horse Tory had ever seen. The horse snorted at Cecil and pawed at the floor of the trailer with one huge front foot, and stretched her neck against the rope, but it looked like she was too exhausted to put up much of a fight. She was black and brown and white and mostly caked with dirt and dried blood from numerous nicks and cuts on her body. Flies buzzed around her wounds. Her feet were gigantic, like the big draft horses Tory had seen pictures of working in the maple syrup fields pulling wagons. Tory couldn’t imagine going anywhere near her and Cecil didn’t seem in any hurry to approach her either, but Grandma Nan just walked right up the ramp and into the trailer all the while cooing to the horse and holding out her hand. The horse backed as far away from Grandma Nan as she could and kept her wild eyes on Grandma Nan’s every move. Tory could see a black cloud of terror and pain around the horse so dark and thick it seemed to penetrate the whole trailer and seep into Tory’s own head. But Grandma Nan seemed completely undisturbed and unaffected by any of the horses’ distress. Very slowly Grandma Nan pulled a carrot out of her jeans pocket and held it out in front of her. The horse stretched her huge neck so she could keep her body far away from Grandma Nan but still sniff the carrot. She wiggled her enormous lips trying to reach the carrot while Grandma Nan still kept talking to her. The mare cautiously reached for the carrot and Tory thought Grandma Nan would lose her hand. But those huge lips just wrapped themselves around the carrot and took it out of Grandma Nan’s hand. She munched greedily as Grandma Nan reached up very slowly and stroked her neck. The paint horse pinned back her ears but stayed in place while Grandma Nan slowly untied the lead rope that kept her secured to the ring on the trailer wall.
“Easy girl, you’re okay,” Grandma Nan said and she held out another carrot. The horse just followed behind Grandma Nan as they moved out of the trailer. Tory had taken up position behind Cecil figuring that was as safe a spot as any if the horse should just bolt out of there, but the horse seemed to pick her feet up ever so carefully as she walked down the ramp easy and calm as anything, her eyes glued to the carrots and Grandma Nan.
Cecil shook his head in amazement. “You sure do have a way with the horses Nan,” he said. “I never would have believed if it if I hadn’t seen if for myself. I never thought she’d come out of there peacefully, let alone being led like a baby.”
“There isn’t a horse alive that’s bad, just the people that own them,” Grandma Nan said in a soft, soothing, tone that Tory knew was meant for the horse while her words were aimed at Cecil.
“Thanks for the delivery. We’ll take care of her from here Cecil,” she said with a confidence that Tory was suddenly proud of.
“I think we’ll put this girl in the outdoor paddock till she gets used to things, Clara,” Grandma Nan said. “What do you think Tory?”
Tory just gulped and nodded her head, scared that Grandma Nan would want her to come closer to the huge animal. Instead Grandma Nan said, “Run ahead and open the gate on that near paddock Tory.”
Tory had no idea what a paddock was but the squared off fenced area with a three sided shelter in it seemed the obvious choice. It had a gate on it so Tory assumed that must be it. It was close to the barn but fenced off from the bigger fields where the other horses were lined up along the fence line anxiously watching the new arrival. Grandma Nan led the horse inside and told Tory to close the gate as she undid the halter. As soon as she was released, the horse ran as fast as she could. Tory was torn between wanting to keep the gate open so Grandma Nan could get out and wanting it closed so the horse couldn’t get out. She compromised and kept her hand on the gate but put herself on the outside making sure the gate was between her and the horse. Rather than come anywhere near the fence, the horse ran to the far end of the paddock as far away as she could get from people, skidded to a stop and then stood there looking at them all, her butt almost, but not quite, touching the electric fence rope. The other horses seemed to catch her energy and they began running along the fence. The mare put her huge head up in the air and let out the loudest screaming sound Tory had ever heard. Her whole body seemed to move and strain with the sound that erupted from within. It was terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time and Tory wasn’t sure whether she should join her in the scream or run for cover.
Grandma Nan, who had bravely turned her back on the horse to walk back to Tory at the gate laughed and said, “See that big old paint is going to be just fine here. She’s already saying hello to the other horses. She probably has a pretty sad story to tell.”
“She’s terrified,” Tory said. If Grandma Nan was as surprised at Tory’s sudden authoritative assessment as Tory was, she didn’t show it.
“They’re always scared, or abused, or in a mess when they come here Tory,” explained Grandma Nan. “See Meadowlands is kind of a last chance farm. We take in horses that no one else wants or can look after. Many of them are ones the SPCA has had been called to rescue or put down like the Paint here. Lots of times people have mistreated them. They come here and we just love them, feed them, and enjoy them. They all come around with a lot of love and understanding and food. Some of them we end up riding, some of them move on to other homes after awhile, and some of them we just love. If we didn’t take them they would probably be put down or killed, and I just can’t stand the thought of that. I think everybody deserves a chance to be loved and cared for, a chance to prove how good they can be. All anybody needs is some time to figure out their purpose in life. And the same goes for animals. Keep your eye on this girl and I’ll go get her some hay,” Grandma Nan said as she headed back to the barn.
Tory watched the big horse gently bend her head to test the grass. “I think we might have a lot in common girl,” Tory whispered. As she stood by the gate, Tory saw a pink cloud radiate out from the horse and seem to float towards her and a vision appeared in the cloud. Tory could see the big horse bending over a tiny foal. Tears poured down Tory’s face as she felt the horse’s pain. It wasn’t just the pain of losing her baby. It was the agony of knowing th
ere had been nothing she could do to help; no way could she protect what she had loved the most. Tory’s tears seemed to morph into raindrops and the vision changed focus. Tory could see herself standing in a rainstorm crying into the huge horse’s neck. Tory shivered as she felt the cold wet of the rain, a strong wind, and deep fear. Tory shook her head at the ridiculous vision. She couldn’t even imagine walking into that paddock let alone getting close enough to touch the horse. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The visions weren’t going away. They were getting crazier out here on this farm. Tory took a deep breath to try and clear her mind.
Tory felt Grandma Nan come up beside her and the vision cloud disappeared as quickly as it came. Grandma Nan tossed some hay over the fence and passed some square cracker- like treats to Tory. They looked like bigger versions of St. Albert’s crunchies.
“Why don’t you spray 4 doses of that Rescue Remedy you have in your pocket on those treats and give them to her,” Grandma Nan said.
Tory hadn’t even remembered she had put that spray bottle in her pocket when she left for the barn, but she pulled it out and did as Grandma Nan instructed.
“I guess I could use some myself,” she mumbled and pumped 4 sprays onto her tongue.
“You’re a quick learner Tory,” Grandma Nan said. Tory could feel the pride in Grandma Nan’s voice. “It all comes pretty naturally to you, I think. Give her the treats and stay as long as you want. Once she’s settled in a bit we’ll figure out what else she needs.” Grandma Nan walked back to the barn.
Tory looked at the treats in her hand, soaked with Rescue Remedy, and she looked at the horse’s huge head. Tory could hear the horse’s teeth grinding the hay as she devoured it. Tory slid the treats under the fence as far as she could reach without touching the electric wire.
Tory started to walk away from the paddock, back towards the barn. As soon as she turned her back Tory felt the Paint move towards the treats. Tory looked over her shoulder and smiled to see the Paint crunching the treats. “Maybe I need some time to figure out my purpose too,” Tory whispered. The paint looked up at Tory just then and nickered softly. Tory could have sworn she nodded her head.