Читать книгу Riding High - Vicki Lewis Thompson - Страница 10

Prologue

June 10, 1990, Last Chance Ranch, from the diary of Eleanor Chance

THANKS TO MY grandson Nicholas, we have another orphaned puppy ensconced in the boys’ room upstairs. Nicky calls him Hercules, and he’s supposed to stay in his box because he’s not housetrained yet. The whining has stopped, so it’s a safe bet the little bugger’s in Nicky’s bed. Mark my words, we’ll be washing sheets in the morning.

I know it’s foolish to imagine what profession a child will take up as an adult, but I’m convinced that Nicky is going to be a vet. Yes, I realize he’s only eight and boys his age change their minds on a regular basis. One day they want to be a firefighter, and the next they’d rather drive an eighteen-wheeler, or maybe fly a jet.

Nicky’s different. He brings home enough strays to start a shelter if we were so inclined. But that’s not why I figure he’ll end up running a veterinarian clinic when he grows up. Half the time the animals he rescues have some injury or other. This puppy has a torn ear and a limp, and instinctively, Nicky knows what to do. It’s remarkable for a boy so young.

Henry Applegate, our large-animal vet from Jackson, makes regular visits to the Last Chance, and Nicky follows him around like a rock-star groupie. He watches every move that man makes and asks so many questions it’s a wonder Henry doesn’t complain. I guess he’s flattered that Nicky idolizes him so.

Fortunately Jonathan and Sarah are encouraging this interest. Jonathan agrees that his middle son has a gift, and Jonathan’s already hoping that Nicky will one day take over the medical care of the Last Chance horses. Personally, I’m glad there’s at least one steady boy in the batch.

Jack, the oldest, has a wild streak and is guaranteed to turn his father’s hair prematurely gray. Gabe, the youngest, is the most competitive kid I’ve ever known. Jonathan plans to enter him in cutting-horse competitions when he’s old enough. Now that school’s out for the summer, Gabe’s driving us all crazy setting up contests of every kind. Yesterday it was rope climbing. Today it was an obstacle course. Thank God he doesn’t expect me to participate! I could probably climb that rope and navigate the obstacle course, but I’d rather not find out I couldn’t. Now that I’m almost eighty, I prefer to maintain my illusions.

Whoops, gotta go. Nicky’s calling for us. He says Hercules peed in his bed. Now there’s a shocker.