by Connie Foss
Bubba and the
Chocolate Farm
Book Two: Where There’s A Horse, There’s Hope
By Connie Raun Foss
Art by Brittany Sharp
Bubba and the Chocolate Farm
Book Two: Where There’s A Horse,There’s Hope
Copyright © 2015 Connie Raun Foss
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For assistance:
Book design and formatting: Foghara Advertising, www.foghara.com, [email protected]
Cover art and illustrations by Brittany Sharp
Connie Raun Foss
Foss Books | Connie’s Kids’ Books Prescott,Arizona
www.ConniesKidsBooks.com
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the Connolly Family for their valuable opinions and editing expertise.
As always, I am eternally grateful to my combination technical advisors/equine veterinarians - an unbeatable team: My brother, Dr.Alan R. Raun,
and my son, Dr. Robert R. Foss.
Chapter One:
A Tough Break
“Oh, no! No!” Meg is hollering as she runs toward us. “Bill, call 911! We need the ambulance and the vet.Tell them to hurry. Bubba and Lilly are in trouble!”
Meg’s shout is what I hear, but what I feel is even louder…my leg is shouting for help.As I lie on my side, I see Lilly, all crumpled up lying in the mud near me, the jump knocked over, a rail on top of her. I have to get up and help Lilly, but one front leg doesn’t agree. But by the time Bill and Meg get to us, I’m standing, rather wobbly and on only three legs, but standing. Lilly, too, is recovering and sitting up.
“Hey, gal, you all right?” Bill asks, as he kneels beside her. “You look like heck!” Bill says teasingly. She does, for she is smeared with mud.
With a rueful expression, Lilly replies, “Well, pretty is as pretty does, and I guess I didn’t do so well.What happened?”
“Oh, Lilly, you are a sight!” Meg is panting, kneeling beside Lilly. “I was watching, and Bubba slipped in the mud as he was taking off for the jump. Neither of you did anything wrong…except deciding to jump with the footing so soft.”
Though Meg happened to see what happened, Bill was working with another horse in the indoor arena.“Are you sure you’re alright… no broken bones or anything? “ Bill asks.
By the time the rescue unit has arrived, Lilly has declared herself okay and in no need of help.As for me, I don’t know what I need, but I need something. My leg is not doing well.When Doc comes running up and the others move aside, I don’t want him to even touch it.
“Let’s get this guy out of the mud,” Doc says, as he takes my reins, tugging, insisting that I walk. I really don’t have much choice, so I hobble along and… yikes…does it ever hurt!
Eventually we make it back to the barn, where Doc checks me all over even using his portable x-ray to take a picture of my sore leg… the left front one.
Everyone is gathered around me, and an anxious nicker is coming from Julie’s stall, showing her love as only a sister can.We’re all waiting for Doc to tell us what he thinks is wrong with my leg.As I look down, it looks okay, so how come it hurts so much?
“Well, it’s not good news, but it isn’t as bad as it might have been. He did break a bone in his front leg…the cannon bone, but it doesn’t seem misaligned. I think it can heal, but it will take time and money to do it. Lets take him in to the clinic. After I take more x-rays, I’ll know just how extensive the surgery will be and can give you a cost estimate. Is that okay?”
“We can’t do without Bubba, Doc.We just can’t! The Chocolate Farm depends on him. Whatever he needs, do it. But isn’t there something you can give him to stop the pain? He’s hurting!” Meg is stiff lipped as she says that, and I hurt even more, knowing that she is hurting.
“You bet and I will.And to make you feel better, if all goes well, Bubba will be back in the show ring.The only unknown is when.”
Chapter Two:
The Situation
“Here you go, big guy.This’ll help you feel better,” says Doc, as he sticks me with a needle. I sure …hope…it…
What am I doing lying here? I’ve got to get up and get out of here. I get part way up and fall back…time and time again.What is going
everything is foggy…and whirling around. I try again, but can’t. It’s just crazy! What’s happening?
There’s a window high up in one wall, and it looks like Meg and Bill are looking in at me.At least I’m not alone, but where are we? Is this all a dream? Did I fall when jumping, or was that a dream, too? I must
kind of like trees in the wind. I try again to stand up… again and again.
I can hear Doc and Bill talking, but I really don’t care what they’re saying. I just want to go home where Julie is, and where the ground is solid and things don’t move in waves.
“The break was just as we thought, a fracture at the lower end of the cannon bone.” That’s Doc. He must be talking about me, but I don’t know what he means.All I know is that my leg looks funny.There are two metal sticks fastened to my leg, one on the outside and one on the inside. I’d like to rub those off, but… I think I’ll wait until later.
“See those two metal rods on his leg? They have screws going into the bone at the top and at the bottom. The rods are fastened to a metal plate that’s glued to Bubba’s hoof. This way he can use that leg some. Keep an eye on it and watch for infection. Bubba will baby the leg for a bit because it’s sore, but he’s a pretty sensible horse, so he’ll probably just accept it as normal. But don’t you! Though the metal will let him put some weight on it, it’s not as strong as a real leg. So keep him calm with stall rest.“
“How long will it take to heal, Doc, and is he hurting now? He is such a big teddy bear, so loving. I just can’t stand the thought of him hurting.” Meg and Bill are talking to Doc, as they stand near me. Meg is so small that she has to look up when talking to both Doc and Bill. She may be short, but she’s mighty. I’d say she is more in charge of us than Bill is, but they make a good pair, and our stable is pretty neat. I miss its smell, a comforting, homey, warm smell.The smell here is all disinfectant and stuff that burns my nose.
“It’ll probably be eight or ten weeks before we can remove the
on a good six months, before anyone gets on his back,” Doc cautions. “Just because it’s possible to heal doesn’t mean it will. You have to keep him quiet enough to let that happen.As for the pain, I’ll give you some medication for that.”
Chapter Three:
Four Working Legs
“My, am I ever glad those six months are over, Bill. Finally Bubba gets to be himself. Seeing him running and playing in the pasture again is like a miracle.”
I can hear Bill and Meg talking while they’re in the tack room. They aren’t the only ones glad I have four good legs again.Those days when I was just standing in the stall day after day were the pits.
“I’ve noticed he’s a little rusty on his footwork when you take him through the cavallettes,” Bill points out,“but I expect he’ll be back in good form for the fall shows. Take it easy with him, Meg.”
“Don’t worry. He’s such a smart boy and he loves working, so it’ll come back quickly.” Meg is watching Bill put new stirrup leathers on an old saddle.“What are yo
u doing with that old saddle, Bill? We haven’t used that in a long time.”
“I thought it might be just what that little boy needs.You know, the one whose father brought him yesterday…Mickey, the four-year-old with autism?” Meg apparently has a questioning look on her face, for Bill says,“Oh, that’s right.You weren’t here. Well, they seem like a really nice family, but their little boy is only saying a few words.The father, Bruce,
racetrack. The father thinks he has a special love for horses, and if he can ride often, it might relax him enough to get him talking.”
“I don’t know, Bill.Are you sure we want to do this? We aren’t in the therapy business. In fact, I really haven’t a clue what a horse therapy program is. Do you?”
“Cool it, Meg. Don’t get all riled up. Of course I don’t, but we’re not getting into the therapy business just because we let a little boy ride Julie.What can it hurt? Seems to me, when we see someone who needs help, we help. And he does have problems…not just the talking.
father and stares at the ground. And his face looks like a robot…no expression. Usually when kids come here, they’re pretty excited. But he looks as though he’s sleep walking.”
“You’re right. I was jumping the gun, afraid we’d get so involved with a therapy program that we wouldn’t be able to do our training work. Typical me, making a mountain out of a molehill. Sure, help that little boy.And besides, when our little boy gets big enough to ride, you’ll have that saddle ready for him.” That’s one of the good things about
out of here.”
Meg hops on and we’re off for the outdoor jumps. The sun is warm, though the early spring air is still rather nippy, perfect for work. Work? What we’re about to do is play, as far as I’m concerned. Jumping is heaven…soaring through the air, pretending I’m a hawk riding the breeze. Meg must like it, too, for I can feel how relaxed and comfortable she is. Like now, as we’re sauntering toward the work arena, I can tell she’s smiling. Then when we land after a jump, she’s happy, giving me a pat on my neck. Unsaddling me back in the stable, she practically glows. Yes, what we do together isn’t work for her either. Life is good, with the days ahead full of hope.
Chapter Four:
Mr.O
Night has crept into the stable, and I settle down. I’ve had a good day doing what I love. I hear contented sounds coming from other parts of the stable, but while some of us are settling down after a busy day, others are just getting started.
“Hey,Tom, what’s that you’ve got in your mouth?” I expect you remember Tom, our one-eyed cat. He’s always sneaking around, catching all kinds of things to take back to his family. He hasn’t been in to visit for a while so as he’s heading down the aisle, I holler at him.“Tom! How goes it?”
a real treat for the youngsters.They’ve been giving me a hard time for sure, meowing that the mice don’t taste good any more.They seem to think food grows on trees and all ya gotta do is pick it.They ain’t got a clue how hard I have to work to keep their bellies happy.”
Tom has trouble talking with his mouth full, but he continues, “You know, us cats don’t have it as easy as you do, Bubba. You don’t have to prowl around these digs all night long…hardly havin’ time to even set back and pick yer teeth.You have your vittles brought to you
complainin’…I ain’t that kind a guy…but it sure would be nice to have a day off sometime.”
He leaves me then, off to deliver the lizard. I wonder what’s bothering Tom. He’s usually a pretty happy guy to be around. I ask Julie about that the next time I pass her stall. “Julie, have you noticed how unhappy Tom seems these days? He never used to complain, even when he lost his eye.”
“Didn’t you know, Bubba?” Julie says.“Tom’s wife was killed by a care of.”
“Oh, no! How’d I miss that? The poor guy. Strange that it was a badger. Remember when he told us how he lost his eye? It was a badger that clawed his eye. No wonder he’s so grumpy.Wish we could help him, but I don’t know how…do you, Julie?”
“No.We could share our food, but his little kittens wouldn’t like what we eat. We’ll just have to be patient with him, and in a couple of weeks, the kittens will be big enough to catch their own food.”
“Hoo-hiss are you talking about, dear friends? I am not
whom you speak.”
“Who said that?” I ask, looking around the stable. “That wasn’t
any of you other guys, was it? It didn’t sound like it.”
“It was I, dear sir…Mr. O… just stopping by to survey the
premises to see if I might like it here.As you might surmise, I am a barn
owl…though I prefer to refer to myself as a stable owl… and I have
been looking for just the right stable in which to set up residence. I
require accommodations in an upscale neighborhood, where there are
no empty tummies.”
“Oh, how do you do, Mr. O. I’m Bubba. Happy to make your
acquaintance. The gal over there is my sister, Julie. We were talking
about Tom, our one-eyed cat. He prowls the stable and helps keep the
mice under control. He’s a good guy and everyone likes Tom, but he’s
having trouble keeping up with all of those little tummies ‘cause he
doesn’t have a helpmate any more.”
“May I be so bold as to mention that I am known by all as
my presence has remained infested with rodents. I am exceptional. Though I occasionally indulge myself with a particularly enticing morsel, I generally pursue mice and rats for the joy of the chase, the thrill of the hunt.Therefore, there is always an abundance of perfectly good mouse meat going to waste. Perhaps you would like a demonstration of my skill? The results can then become the possession of your handicapped cat.”
“I heard that, you stuck-up, two-legged birdbrain!” growls Tom.
like a man, and I’ll show you who’s handicapped.” of us who live here know it can only be a happy place to live if we all get along and even help each other when we can. We’re happy to have you with us as long as you are of the same mind. Maybe you’ve come to us when you can be the most useful.Tom, you wouldn’t mind having some help feeding your family, would you? Mr. O, it will give you a chance to see if our stable is to your liking.”
“Yeah, Mr. O, show us whatcha got, and then maybe we’ll let cha stay.” Tom’s hairs are sticking out all over the place…more like a porcupine…he is so angry. But he can see there might be some help for him coming down out of those rafters.
Before anyone can scream No! Mr. O swoops down with his big undulating wings and picks up a rat by the scruff of his neck, taking him up to his rafter perch.Why is there a scream? The rat is Elliot!
I am whinnying for all I’m worth, striking the stall wall with my right front hoof. Julie is doing the same, but it’s Tom who saves the day. Quick as a wink, he is up the corner pole, scrambling over the rafter and knocking Elliott out of Mr. O’s beak.
Elliott tumbles head over heels, landing in the sawdust with a soft thud.
We’re all stunned at how quickly this happened.“Elliott, are you okay? Answer me!” I scream.
landing.” Elliott is there in the sawdust, sitting up like a dog, his ears drooping to the side and looking just plain squashed.“Who was it that gave me the thrill of a lifetime?”
“I’m sorry, Elliott, that was Mr. O, our resident barn owl…I mean stable owl.
And Mr. O, we’re sorry.We forgot to tell you that Elliott is special.”
“Yeah, is he ever, and don’t cha’ forget it, Birdbrain. Elliott saved me life once, so he gets free run in this here stable. Any other rat or mouse you can have. But not Elliott!”
I will never forget the night a badger clawed Tom’s eye, leaving his eyeball dangling by a thread, and he was hurting more than any cat has ever hurt before.That was when Elliott saw the problem and nipped the thread that was holding the eyeball. Later Tom said the wash of
forget. �
�My dear fellow, I hadn’t a clue that I was attacking a hero. I must
say this stable is the most unusual stable whose accommodations I have
had the occasion to use. My apologies, Elliott. May I call you Elliott? I
have never known a rat to have a name. I shall keep my beak for lesser
four-legged creatures. There’s one now,” and with a swoop, he quickly
retrieves a mouse and drops it at Tom’s feet.“Mr. O, at your service, Sir.”
Chapter Five:
Julie
When I’m in my stall with nothing else to do, I enjoy watching the others do their thing . It’s important to me that I know what’s going on…especially with Julie. She’s my sister, you know. Ever since the day we were born and our mother died, we’ve been like one.When I was hurting with that broken bone, I felt her love. I love that gal right back.
Right now Bill is going into Julie’s stall with that saddle I haven’t seen for years. He must be getting ready for the little boy Mickey. Bill is such a tall guy and since Julie’s kind of small, he doesn’t usually ride her. Lilly takes her out for a good canter every day, but it looks like something different is up for today’s workout. No way could Bill or Lilly use that small a saddle. It must be for Mickey.
About the time Bill has Julie saddled, a well-dressed man and a little boy walk in through the door. There’s something different about the boy. He’s such a little boy, yet he isn’t holding his father’s hand, and he’s looking down at the ground.Why does he do that? You’d think in a new place, he’d be all eyes…so much to see. Maybe he’s just shy. Julie’s kind of like that, too.They’ll be a good pair.
“Good morning, Bruce and Mickey. Nice to see you both on this
Mickey. I guess you want to ride, don’t you?” Bill has squatted down so he can look Mickey in the eye as he talks. But Mickey won’t look at him.“I’m Bill, Mickey. Would you like to shake hands?”
“Mickey doesn’t like to be touched,Bill,especially by strangers…. just one of those things that matters a lot to him.” Bruce seems very accepting of Mickey’s likes and dislikes. An understanding father, it appears.
