Roped (Gail McCarthy Mysteries) Read Online Free
Author: Laura Crum
another step and I saw that he was able to bear some weight on the injured leg. It wasn't broken. Thank God.
Relief rushed through me like water; my hand shook as I lifted the reins and clucked to send Gunner forward down the hill. Pistol was off in the right front. I thought I could guess what was wrong.
By the time I reached the arena, Lonny'd gotten off Pistol and was feeling the leg carefully. A group of people had gathered around him, including the animal rights protesters. Everybody looked worried and unhappy. Two accidents in one day was unusual and unnerving.
I tied Gunner to the fence and approached the group. Lonny looked up at me and smiled in relief. "Come have a look, Gail."
I bent down and picked up Pistol's right front, palpating the leg carefully and gently from the knee down to the ankle. Nothing obviously wrong that I could feel. Putting the foot down, I told Lonny, "Lead him forward a few steps."
Lonny clucked to Pistol and the horse limped after him. He was plenty sore, but he could use his right front leg. Given Pistol's history, I was pretty sure I knew what had happened.
"It's his ringbone, I think," I told Lonny. "He must have taken a bad step and tweaked that ankle. We'll have to x-ray him and see if he's got a bone chip in there. Either way, he's done for today. Lead him over to the barn and run some cold water on it. I'll get the vet kit, and we'll give him a shot of bute."
Lonny started to lead Pistol off, and I looked at the group around me, meaning to say something reassuring. Glen and Tim were right at my shoulder; behind them stood the two animal rights protesters, and behind them was Lisa, down on her hands and knees, scrabbling in the dirt of the arena. She was right about where Pistol had pulled up lame.
"Did he step on a rock?" I asked her.
Lisa looked up abruptly from her task. To my amazement, her face seemed distorted with fear, eyes wide and staring, mouth clenched, skin colorless. She didn't answer me, just got quickly to her feet, aware that all of us were watching her.
"They're aren't any rocks in this arena." Tim's lazy drawl.
It was true. Glen had imported truckloads of sand to build the arena; it was beautifully groomed and rock-free.
"I was looking to see if he stumbled in a hole or something." Lisa mumbled this almost to herself, looking at the ground.
"Lisa, I drug this arena not two hours ago. There can't be any holes." Glen's voice. He sounded worried. But, again, I was sure he was right. A sand arena, properly watered and drug as this one had been, was not going to produce an unexpected hole.
"Is he going to be all right?" Lisa again.
"It depends what you mean by all right," I told her. "He has ringbone in that foot, and he's been lame on it off and on for a few years. Not bad lame, like he is now, just a little lame. But the calcification of the joint caused by the ringbone has been getting worse and worse, and I think he may have taken a bad step and possibly caused some of the calcified material to break loose. A bone chip," I added. "I'd guess that's why he went so suddenly and dramatically lame."
"What do you think caused him to take a bad step?" Lisa was off on some track of her own.
"I don't know. Just putting his foot down wrong maybe. Like a person can twist their ankle for no apparent reason."
I could feel the ropers around me nodding; they were all familiar with the way horses could take bad steps and come up lame for no good reason. It was the stuff of everyday life.
"Let's rope!" Al bellowed at us from the chutes.
Lonny and Pistol were over by the barn. I turned to follow them and the group around me started to disperse when we were all frozen in place by the voice of the female protester.
"Surely you're not going to go on with this abuse after you've already crippled two horses?" The question was addressed to Glen, and the woman's voice was loud and belligerent.
Everyone looked at Glen. Face and voice calm, he replied, "It's unfortunate
Relief rushed through me like water; my hand shook as I lifted the reins and clucked to send Gunner forward down the hill. Pistol was off in the right front. I thought I could guess what was wrong.
By the time I reached the arena, Lonny'd gotten off Pistol and was feeling the leg carefully. A group of people had gathered around him, including the animal rights protesters. Everybody looked worried and unhappy. Two accidents in one day was unusual and unnerving.
I tied Gunner to the fence and approached the group. Lonny looked up at me and smiled in relief. "Come have a look, Gail."
I bent down and picked up Pistol's right front, palpating the leg carefully and gently from the knee down to the ankle. Nothing obviously wrong that I could feel. Putting the foot down, I told Lonny, "Lead him forward a few steps."
Lonny clucked to Pistol and the horse limped after him. He was plenty sore, but he could use his right front leg. Given Pistol's history, I was pretty sure I knew what had happened.
"It's his ringbone, I think," I told Lonny. "He must have taken a bad step and tweaked that ankle. We'll have to x-ray him and see if he's got a bone chip in there. Either way, he's done for today. Lead him over to the barn and run some cold water on it. I'll get the vet kit, and we'll give him a shot of bute."
Lonny started to lead Pistol off, and I looked at the group around me, meaning to say something reassuring. Glen and Tim were right at my shoulder; behind them stood the two animal rights protesters, and behind them was Lisa, down on her hands and knees, scrabbling in the dirt of the arena. She was right about where Pistol had pulled up lame.
"Did he step on a rock?" I asked her.
Lisa looked up abruptly from her task. To my amazement, her face seemed distorted with fear, eyes wide and staring, mouth clenched, skin colorless. She didn't answer me, just got quickly to her feet, aware that all of us were watching her.
"They're aren't any rocks in this arena." Tim's lazy drawl.
It was true. Glen had imported truckloads of sand to build the arena; it was beautifully groomed and rock-free.
"I was looking to see if he stumbled in a hole or something." Lisa mumbled this almost to herself, looking at the ground.
"Lisa, I drug this arena not two hours ago. There can't be any holes." Glen's voice. He sounded worried. But, again, I was sure he was right. A sand arena, properly watered and drug as this one had been, was not going to produce an unexpected hole.
"Is he going to be all right?" Lisa again.
"It depends what you mean by all right," I told her. "He has ringbone in that foot, and he's been lame on it off and on for a few years. Not bad lame, like he is now, just a little lame. But the calcification of the joint caused by the ringbone has been getting worse and worse, and I think he may have taken a bad step and possibly caused some of the calcified material to break loose. A bone chip," I added. "I'd guess that's why he went so suddenly and dramatically lame."
"What do you think caused him to take a bad step?" Lisa was off on some track of her own.
"I don't know. Just putting his foot down wrong maybe. Like a person can twist their ankle for no apparent reason."
I could feel the ropers around me nodding; they were all familiar with the way horses could take bad steps and come up lame for no good reason. It was the stuff of everyday life.
"Let's rope!" Al bellowed at us from the chutes.
Lonny and Pistol were over by the barn. I turned to follow them and the group around me started to disperse when we were all frozen in place by the voice of the female protester.
"Surely you're not going to go on with this abuse after you've already crippled two horses?" The question was addressed to Glen, and the woman's voice was loud and belligerent.
Everyone looked at Glen. Face and voice calm, he replied, "It's unfortunate
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