  Jim was still sitting on the ground beside Ticktock when Dr. Cornby and the editor arrived. The veterinarian wasted no time, but after a short greeting to the family, immediately went to work. Using a flash light, he made a careful examination of the broken leg. Jim watched every move with painful anxiety. Hopefully he looked at Dr. Cornby’s face as the latter stood up from his inspection. “Can you fix it?” he asked. There was desperate pleading in his voice. “I don’t know, Jim. It’s a clean break, no jagged edges, so we can try. You can usually set a leg, but whether it will be successful is always a gamble. Ticktock and you will play a much more important part in this than I will. You have a much tougher job ahead of you than I have.” “I’m willing to do anything,” answered Jim promptly. The veterinarian looked around appraisingly and then issued instructions. A long lighting cord was found and stretched from the nearest socket to furnish illumination at the pony’s side. The accident had occurred beneath one of the large trees in the yard. Thoughtfully Dr. Cornby looked up at a big limb almost directly overhead. “If we had equipment, the best thing would be to move him out to his stall in the barn, but we’d need a tow truck or a derrick to do it. However, there is always the possibility of doing still more damage by moving him and, also, the sooner we set the leg the better. We are lucky in that we can raise him right here, but if we do, he’s going to be here a long time. Now can you rig up some sort of padded frame like the side of a stall so Ticktock can lean against it and rest?” “Certainly,” replied Mr. Meadows. “We can do anything that’s necessary.” “O.K.,” said the veterinarian. “Mrs. Meadows, you are going to have a horse cluttering up your back yard for some time.” She only smiled to show her lack of concern, so he continued. “First, I need a good strong block and tackle.” The block and tackle was securely fastened to the limb overhead and then Dr. Cornby produced a wide canvas bellyband to go under Ticktock’s body, a breeching and a breast strap. He worked rapidly with only an occasional comment. “Got to put him out to keep him quiet,” he said, producing a jug of liquid and a complicated appearing apparatus with a long tube. “This is chloral hydrate which I am going to administer intravenously in the jugular vein. Just as simple as giving plasma to a person.” Ticktock gave a start of pain and terror as the vein was pierced but in a few minutes his nervous trembling had ceased, his legs relaxed, and his head drooped heavily in Jim’s lap. “I’ll have to raise him to get at that leg,” said the doctor. By dint of much pulling, pushing and lifting, the wide bellyband was shoved beneath the mustang’s body and the ends hooked to the block and tackle. Slowly and carefully the limp horse was raised. When the inert body was clear of the ground, they readjusted its position and then secured the breast strap and breech band in place to keep Ticktock from sliding out of the sling. The injured animal was then raised until his feet dangled clear of the ground by a few inches. A final adjustment was made so that his hind feet were slightly lower than his fore feet. With his head hanging limply downward, poor Ticktock certainly presented a forlorn and pitiful sight. In the meantime, Bill Arnold had been preparing the material for a plaster cast. Dr. Cornby worked rapidly and soon had the leg set and padded ready for it. “I wish I had a fluoroscope or some means of taking an X ray to see if I have that bone in exact apposition,” he said as he worked. “I have to go by touch entirely, but I think I’ve got it right.” After the plaster cast had been applied and was hardening, the veterinarian sat down to relax for a few minutes. He lighted his pipe and drew in the smoke gratefully. Jim gave a big sigh of relief and looked hopefully at Dr. Cornby. He had been afraid to utter a sound while the doctor had been working, but now he felt he could talk. “He’s going to be all right now, isn’t he, Doctor?” he asked anxiously. “I wish I could say yes definitely, but I can’t, Jim. The battle has only begun. Only the simple part is over. I’m not going to kid you but tell you just what can and does happen in most cases.” “O.K.,” said Jim grimly. “A horse has one of the most sensitive nervous systems of all animals, which is the one thing that makes matters so difficult when they have an accident. They are particularly susceptible to any pain, which makes them writhe around, kick and do everything they shouldn’t when they have a broken bone. On the other hand, you can’t keep them quiet by keeping them under dope because their nervous system just won’t stand it for any length of time. That’s why a race horse seldom recovers from a broken leg—he’s such a nervous animal he won’t keep still.” “Ticktock’s not nervous,” said Jim promptly. “No, he’s a rather calm little pony, but on the other hand, he’s no placid cow. I’ve seen times when he acted pretty spirited; so it won’t be beer and skittles keeping him quiet. And you’ve got to do it. Now you notice how sloping a horse’s leg is. It’s difficult to keep a plaster cast in place—if the break were above the knee it would be next to impossible. The muscles in the leg are very powerful and if the horse starts moving, the contraction of those muscles is enough to pull the bones out of apposition, by that I mean out of line, and then he’s done for.” “I’ll keep him quiet,” said Jim with determination. “I’ll stay right here beside Ticktock all the time.” “It’ll be a long vigil,” said Dr. Cornby smiling sympathetically. “He’s going to be in that sling at least six weeks. Of course, the first two weeks are the most important. After that the bone has begun to knit and won’t pull apart so easily. Now the next thing is to keep him happy and eating. I don’t know how to tell you to do this. You know the horse and will have to figure it out for yourself. I’ve known some horses that would absolutely refuse to eat anything when they were in pain. In one case I tried feeding a horse through a tube to keep him alive. Now Ticktock shouldn’t be in pain after this, but he’ll be nervous being in that sling. You’ve got to keep him calm and happy enough to eat.” Jim was not discouraged by this ominous warning. He felt confident that he could keep the mustang quiet and contented. Ticktock would eat for him. “Now there’s one more problem,” said Dr. Cornby. “We’ll lower him in a few minutes so that some of his weight is resting on his feet. I think the way we have him set most of it will be on his hind feet. Each day we’ll put more weight on his feet until finally the sling will just be there to keep him from lying down and for him to use when he wants to rest. Now some horses never lie down to sleep. I’ve had farmers tell me that some of their horses have stood as long as a couple of years without lying down other than to roll when they were in the pasture. Still there’s danger when you force a horse to stand for six weeks in a sling that he might get laminitis, or founder.” “What’s that?” asked Arnold. “It’s the same thing that happens when a horse is overworked, allowed to drink all the water he wants and then stand. The blood vessels in the feet are injured. The blood from the arteries passes through tiny blood vessels, called capillaries, into the veins and back to the heart. These little blood vessels are permanently damaged and the coffin joint, inside the hoof, suffers and drops out of position. The sole of the foot also drops. You can help mild cases of founder, but the horse is never up to much except very light work. Even if he recovers he is usually lame until his blood warms up.” “What can we do to prevent it?” asked Mr. Meadows while Jim listened anxiously. “Well, building that padded barricade will give him a chance to lean against it and rest. Also, it helps to groom the horse and massage his legs. Don’t touch the broken leg at all for a few days though. Beyond that there isn’t much that can be done but hope for the best.” The veterinarian waited until Ticktock awoke, and then lowered him until his feet touched the ground lightly. At first the pony was very groggy and dopey, but as his head cleared he started to struggle. He could not understand why he was hanging in the air and was unable to walk. “There, there, old boy. You’re all right now,” said Jim consolingly, patting the mustang on the head. There was nothing further that Dr. Cornby could do. As it was after three o’clock in the morning, he and the editor prepared to leave. As Dr. Cornby wearily packed his bag, Jim awkwardly tried to express his thanks. He was so grateful that he could find no words adequate to convey the depth of his feeling. “I know how you feel, Jim,” said Dr. Cornby. “Just forget about it and save all your energies for the days ahead. You’re going to need all you’ve got.” Jim firmly refused to leave his pony’s side, insisting that he was going to sit up the remainder of the night beside the injured animal. “He might want some water,” he said, “or he might get scared and start kicking.” Horse in a sling “All right,” said Mr. Meadows who had volunteered to spend the night on watch beside Ticktock. “We’ll bring out some blankets and fix up a place where you can lie down if you want to.” Dawn found Jim leaning back against the tree asleep with a blanket around his shoulders. Ticktock dozed quietly in his sling, apparently comfortable and contented. Mrs. Meadows discovered them still in deep slumber when she came out to call Jim for breakfast. She looked down fondly at her son’s drawn, tired face, hating to awaken him. Reaching down, she shook his shoulder gently. “Jim, Jim,” she said softly. “Come in and have some breakfast.” Jim was ravenous. He looked at Ticktock, who still slept peacefully; so he decided to go in to breakfast. However, as he started toward the house the mustang awoke and stirred restively. No amount of persuasion could have made Jim leave then, so his breakfast was served in the yard. He sat under the big tree hungrily devouring bacon and eggs, sleepy and tired, but happy. He then fed Ticktock, lovingly holding a bucket for the horse to eat and drink. He refused to go more than a few feet from the mustang, chasing away every fly and fussing over Ticktock as if he were a tiny baby. Jean brought apples and choice bits of clover to offer. The pony, instead of refusing to eat, accepted everything until Mr. Meadows became alarmed over Ticktock’s large appetite. “Remember, he’s not going to get any exercise for a long time,” he warned. “You’ll overfeed him if you don’t watch out.” Mr. Meadows sunk two posts near Ticktock and between them nailed boards which were padded to allow the mustang to rest against the structure comfortably. The news traveled fast through the countryside and all morning there was a string of visitors. Some came out of sympathy for Jim and others out of pure curiosity. A horse with his leg in a plaster cast was quite an attraction, particularly a famous horse like Ticktock. Jean sternly kept all visitors at a respectful distance, afraid they would alarm the pony. Shortly after noon Timothy came riding down the lane astride a huge Percheron. “Just heard about the accident,” he said to Jim. “It was certainly tough luck. I thought I’d come see if there was anything I could do.” He examined the injured leg with great interest. “Nice job—sure hope it works.” He wasted no further words on condolence but promptly took charge of the situation. “While it’s good weather we better get things rigged up for rain,” he said with authority. “We’ll fix him a regular stall right here. Roof to shade him and a manger. It would be just as well not to have too much of the yard in plain view—something might scare him.” Together Timothy and Jim stretched a big canvas tarpaulin over Ticktock and pegged the sides securely to the ground. They made a small manger out of boxes and placed it where it was convenient for the mustang. Then they spread straw on the ground around his feet and in a short time had him appearing very comfortable in a tentlike stall. Timothy finished matters by giving the little horse a thorough grooming. The trainer’s expert touch and soothing voice kept the pony quiet and contented and for the first time since the accident Jim was able to leave his side without a feeling of alarm. “I’ll come over about eight and spend the night with him,” said Timothy firmly. “You’ve already had one tough night and need some sleep.” So Timothy stayed beside the injured horse the second night while Jim slept in his own bed with the soundness that comes of exhaustion. |
|
