Hearing Hoofbeats

Grace was going to stay with her Aunt Lucy and Uncle Frank while her parents were away on a business trip. She had jumped up and down when she first heard the news. Aunt Lucy and Uncle Frank owned a farm and Grace loved horses more than anything else. The farm now had three, since the horse Rose had given birth to a new foal, Buddy. “Dad, please take me to the library,” Grace said. “I want to read about horses since I’m going to be around them.”

There was so much to learn. Different breeds of horses, different colors of horses, how to ride one — oh, how she hoped her aunt and uncle would let her!

Grace tried to memorize the parts of a horse’s body. She giggled when she found out part of the horse’s hoof was called a frog.

When she got to the farm, after saying a quick goodbye to her folks, Grace pulled her suitcase (which held two horse books besides her clothes) to the guest room. Then Aunt Lucy told her, “Go call your uncle in for dinner. He’s in the paddock, putting a halter on Buddy.”

Thrilled to see the gray foal, Grace scrambled over the fence and dashed up behind Buddy and his mother. Startled, Rose kicked. Only Uncle Frank’s yank on Grace’s arm saved her from the mare’s hooves.

“You’re old enough to know better than that. It’s not safe. Keep away from the horses until I tell you otherwise,” Uncle Frank said sternly.

The mare flattened her ears against her head and let out a high whinny. Much more gently, Uncle Frank went on, “Easy there, Rose. It’s okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you or Buddy.” He stroked her brown neck.

“I’m sorry.” Grace looked down. She did know better. Hadn’t she read that horses got scared when anything ran up behind them? How could she have forgotten that? It was a lot more important than what a horse’s frog was. Forgetting all about dinner, she trudged back to the house.

Aunt Lucy took one look at Grace and put down a bowl of spaghetti. “What happened?”

Grace explained. “I know I made a mistake, but I’ll never do it again, I promise. And I’m not hurt.”

“You might have been,” said Uncle Frank, walking in. “And what if Rose had accidentally kicked Buddy instead?”

“I’m really sorry,” Grace repeated.

Uncle Frank folded his arms. “I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt. Horses are wonderful animals, but they can be dangerous if you don’t use your head.”

So for the next few days, Grace did other things around the farm, like picking strawberries and feeding the chickens. She had a good time, but it wasn’t the same as helping with the horses.

Her guest room was right outside the paddock. Whenever she had the chance, Grace would slide up the window and lean on the sill, watching and listening. Rose is rolling. That’s how horses scratch their backs. The flies must be bothering Mac — he’s switching his tail to shoo them away. Buddy is galloping like he wants to be a racehorse. Oh, I’m so sorry I messed up.

One morning, Grace woke up and found a note on the kitchen table from Aunt Lucy. “Went to the supermarket. Back soon. Don’t wake your uncle. He was up late working last night.”

After eating a bowl of cereal, Grace headed back to her room. She slid open the window as usual. But this time, she shut her eyes. She wondered if she could tell which horse was which without looking, just by the sound of their hoofbeats.

Clip, clop, clip, clop. That had to be the big black and white pinto, Mac, walking slowly by.

Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap. Those light hoofbeats belonged to Buddy.

Rose would come next. She was never far from her foal. But a few minutes passed before Grace heard thump…th-thump…thump. It wasn’t the “trit trot, trit trot” she’d expected.

Grace opened her eyes and peeked around the blue curtain. It was Rose whose hoofbeats sounded strange. Is she all right? I think she’s limping. Grace couldn’t decide whether to get her uncle. What if Rose needs help now? she asked herself. But she also thought Uncle Frank might be angry if she woke him up. Maybe it would be better to wait for Aunt Lucy to come back.

Worried, she watched Rose for a few seconds more. She’s walking like her hoof is sore. But why? Hooves are very tough. Then Grace gasped. The bottom of a hoof has a soft spot — the frog! She remembered something from one of her books — sometimes things get caught in the frog, and it can cause a serious injury if it’s not taken out right away.

Grace hurried down the hall. “Uncle Frank!” She knocked hard on his bedroom door.

“What’s wrong?” he grumbled.

“Rose is limping. I think she’s hurt!”

Five minutes later her uncle was holding Rose by the halter. “You’re right, Grace. Looks like there’s a rock in her frog. To take it out, I’m going to need my hoof pick. Can you bring it to me? It’s on the bottom shelf by the stable door. I’d get it myself, but I’ve got to keep Rose still.”

Grace nodded and soon returned. Uncle Frank crooned to Rose while he removed a jagged-edged pebble. “Good work, Grace. Thanks for getting me right away. It could have been much worse if you’d waited. I think Rose will be okay now, but I’ll call the vet to make sure.”

Smiling with relief, Grace said, “I’m glad.”

“You know, someone who uses her head can be a real help on this farm. Tonight, we’ll feed the horses together.” Uncle Frank grinned. “After the vet stops by, you can help me saddle Mac and take him for a ride.”

Grace smiled again. “I’d like that,” she said.