
That night the dream came and the next mornin’ I woke in a
state of panic, but it was a good panic. I’d dreamed a way out for ole Gabe and
darned if I wasn’t going to make that dream come true. But I had to hurry. Any
day now Pa would take up the rifle and blow Gabe to kingdom come. It was still
early, before sunrise and I knew I had about a half hour before Pa woke up and
got movin’. I snuck into the office, turned on the computer that Pa hated but
had to have now, and searched for what I was lookin’ for, what I was sure could
be found if one looked hard enough. Trouble is, time passes real fast when
you’re on a computer and I’d only just found somethin’ promisin’ when I saw the
light go in on the kitchen. Ma was up and readyin’ breakfast. Pa wouldn’t be
long behind her. I figured she’d be okay with what I was doin’, but wasn’t sure
about Pa unless I had somethin’ real and solid to offer him as an alternative.
Somethin’ that wouldn’t cost him a cent.

When I got home I jumped out the truck eager to tell Ma and
Pa what I’d arranged, and heard the shotgun go off. “NO!” I screamed and ran to the barn. No one
was inside. I ran to the back, tears threatenin’ to stream and saw Pa standing
there, shotgun loose in his hands. But the old dobbin still standin’ on his own
four feet, not weavin’, not looking to fall, but prancin’ in fear, his eyes
wide and ears flat. He was tied to a post and pullin’ to get away from Pa and
the gun. “Stop Pa! Don’t shoot him!” I screamed and ran toward the horse as Pa
raised the gun to his shoulder again.
How had he missed at this ridiculous
close range? Pa lowered the gun and glared at me. I could swear I saw his cheek
glisten as he yelled, “Get away from ‘im, Patrick. You know what’s gotta be
done.”
“No it doesn’t. Pa I found a way to get Gabe taken care of.
Found a home for ‘im.”
“What in thunder’s name are you talkin’ about?”
“A home. I found the old dobbin a home. They’re comin’ to get
‘im tomorrow mornin’, bright an early.”
Pa stared at me a minute more and I calmed Gabe down, cooin’
to ‘im, snugglin’ his warm wet nose.
“Who’s comin’ for ‘im, Pat?”
“A children’s riding service. They travel all over the state
providin’ rides for kids at birthday parties an such. You know how good Gabe is
with folks. He’ll love havin’ all that attention.”
“But they’ll still just put ‘im down after he’s of no more
use.”
“The man on the phone
said they don’t do that. They’re in cahoots with an outfit that saves old
workhorses and lets ‘im live out their old age days in a big field somewhere’s
till they drop dead on their own.” Which is what I’d wished for Gabe, but I
didn’t tell Pa that.
Pa wiped the back of his arm across his face and put the
shotgun down. “How much is it gonna cost me?”
“Nothin’. “ I wouldn’t tell him the truth even though it
looked like he might actually be regrettin’ havin’ to shoot the ole boy. I’d
made my decision and wouldn’t give Pa any reason to go back on getting’ Gabe
what he deserved.
Next day, a Saturday, Pa and I stood in the drive watchin’ as
the truck and horsetrailer drove away with Gabe. I held a brochure in my hand
with all the company’s pertinent details.
I could call anytime to check and see how the old dobbin was doin’. I’d
paid the man while Pa was in the barn getting’ Gabe so he still thought what I
wanted him to.
I didn’t know ‘til I graduated from college five years later,
that my Pa and Ma had found me out. Didn’t know until they were cryin’ and
poundin’ me on the back tellin’ me how proud they were of me, and what I’d
done.
Four years after we watched him leave for his new life, Gabe,
that old dobbin, died in a field one day with blue sky above him. He just fell
right over and never got up. But I know he's out there somewhere, runnin' free and happy.
Images from:
What a wonderful story! Gabe got to go out like any living creature should.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful story. When I go, I want to just fall over and die, too.
ReplyDeleteThat was super sweet Lisa.
ReplyDeleteI'm gonna cry!!! My old dog is hitting that age where I worry- I want her to stay healthy until she slips away in her sleep. I never want to have to make a choice. It's heart breaking.
ReplyDeleteThat was beautiful. Farm life is wonderful but it also has lots of harsh truths to go with it.
ReplyDeleteAww. What a neat story! I'm gonna cry, too.
ReplyDeleteLoved the story and the accompanying art. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteHi Lisa .. that's a lovely story - brought tears to my eyes ... and how resourceful we can be to keep animals we love .. and take care of them ... magical .. wonderful to read .. cheers Hilary
ReplyDeleteBeautiful story.
ReplyDeleteHi Lisa. What an amazing story. That accent came through. Read Grapes of Wrath feel about it. Brought out that special bond between children and animals.
ReplyDeleteI wish you every good wish for Christmas and the New Year!
Denise :)
A beautiful story. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth Hein - Scribbling in the Storage Room