GoLightly Fiction, parts 9, 10 & 11

Well, I've looked and looked, and I have zero digital pictures of my old horses. I have a bunch of so-so pictures of my friend's horses. I have a lovely collection of DriftWood Horses. I will post one, let me know if you think I'd get in trouble for using them. These women are amazing. They gather old pieces of DriftWood and craft them into amazing works of art. Anyone else seen these? Sooo coool. I believe they are in Britain. I'll dig a bit, and make sure to post the credits if I can find 'em.
The first pic is my sister up in Inuvit, to remind you of winter fun:)
Second is the DriftWood piece that wowed me.
Third is my sister's dog, patiently pretending she doesn't mind such silly indignity:)
I hope they're in the same order. You should be able to tell, which is which.
Thanks to 2Toads, for the tip!

I hope you all had a great Christmas, I sure did:) Dogs are exhausted from playing with their best friends.
And because I didn't want to leave you without a further installment, and since FernValley is impatiently drumming her fingers, I present Parts 9, 10 & 11 of the GoLightly Fictional Story. Funny, I've had lots I've thought to post about the "real" GoLightly Story, but I'm never near pen, paper or computer when the thoughts flash past.
I'll get crackin' on that, Fern:) Pass the cinnamon buns!
Merry Christmas, any and all who honour me by reading.

GoLightly - A Story of Love and Hope and Luck

Part 9
Gentian decided a visit to Dr. Rick's was in order, and Billy agreed. The finagling of a good reason to visit took several weeks, as he'd sold his latest bunch of really nice, badly broken horses. Dr. Rick took the meaning "broke to death" to the extreme. Gen had felt Dr. Rick's eyes on her several times at the show, but his dark sunglasses hid his expression. She couldn't see any reaction when she noticed him looking in her direction, again, as she was chatting with Craig and daughter Jessie at her stalls. Dr. Rick didn't allow dogs on his property. Gen and Billy carefully worked out a plan for Samson to get "loose", and trained him accordingly. Samson enjoyed his new training mightily, as good dogs do. Sam had extensive previous experience in the matter of clandestine escapes.
Dr. Rick decided not to visit Letitia, opting for a stern phone call instead. But after reviewing the matter of Craig & Jessie & Samson, any communication with Letitia was to be avoided, for the moment. Craig had no idea where the horse was. Craig had mentioned Jessie's pony ride with a big horse to Dr. Rick, but Rick pretended he'd never heard of the place. The horse would be dead soon, anyway. Letitia was very experienced in such matters.


Dr. Rick kept Craig on the home farm for the rest of the show season, though. Dr. Rick needed to be careful, for a while. Craig didn't mind, show work hours were much more brutal. Home Farm work was "easier", if only in measure of distances traveled and total amount of endless days.
Show Grooms, all grooms for that matter, the great ones, are a priceless bunch. They are also the lowest paid workers of any circuit. Their love for horses keeps them working, often to their own detriment. Loyal grooms, seeing employer abuse, can feel honour bound not to report it. Paychecks are more important than conscience.

Jack Toronto had moved to the west coast after GoLightly vanished. He was "JT" to everyone in the hunter/jumper world. JT could get any horse to do anything, it was said. He was truly a gifted horse handler. JT had never worked for Gen, but he had freelanced at most of the shows her barn went to. Short, with a boyish, jockey charm, he'd befriended GoLightly and his groom Michelle, at several shows. JT was paid extra for these duties, from his employers. He did it so surreptiously, and yet so smoothly, it was never noticed.
JT could sometimes feel a dark pang in his heart, before he slept at night. His only choice had always been, take the money. JT still heard Simon's pained yelp, at the hands of Dr. Rick, when he was stone sober.
JT missed the east coast terribly, and when his old employers called, offering him more money to return, he agreed. Horses can be lied to, honest beasts that they are. JT was one of the best at horse lying. JT could feel remorse, but no actual guilt. Business takes precedence over ethics.
Dr. Rick's concerns about Gen and Samson slowly subsided as time passed. After a few months, with his syndicate's approval, he called JT back home. Dr. Rick missed the guy, JT always seemed to assist Dr. Rick's focus. JT could sharpen anyone's senses. Dr. Rick appreciated his medical and pharmaceutical expertise, in horses and humans.
Gen's phone call later that same week didn't even raise Rick's blood pressure. She often would try to buy a horse as soon as she heard it was headed to his barn.
Dr. Rick would always gladly sell horses. He smiled, thinking maybe the beautiful Gen would finally succumb to his considerable charm. Dr. Rick and JT both resented Gen her ability to resist them.

Part 10

Letitia was furious. She'd just been kicked, for the dozenth time in her life. Horses are not evil, which had kept her alive for a very long time. Horses were only allowed to kick her once. GoLightly was on borrowed time, as the summer was ending. Ian was worried, for as his Softy's sedation level lowered, so his temperament increased. Ian kept the horse as far away from her as possible, and so far his luck held. A tall, Thoroughbred solid red chestnut mare had nailed Letitia again. Some highly intelligent horses will commit revenge.

(Author's note - For further typing purposes the author will no longer type out L's name. The author can no longer bear to name her. It disgraces the perfectly good name she had. Letitia (ouch) will now be typed as "L" only.)

The mare conveniently kicked her the day before the auction, so off they went to dispose of her. Plenty more horse to be had, anytime. More you have, the less you feed. It was simple. Then, once the numbers were crunching.. In the fall, auctions were busy with the cast-off pets, camp and trail and school horses, all hoping they would live to see dinner. L's trailer was repaired, and Ian & L drove her to her fate. The Auction Yard was big, loud and very secure. No pictures were allowed on site, and the rule strictly enforced. For such good reason, of course. Sights seen at Auctions will break a kind heart. No-one noticed Ian, quietly rubbing the tall red mare's neck & withers goodbye, helpless to direct his own fate, let alone hers. L was in her favourite place, where mindless brutality was ignored. She picked out a tiny, terrified weanling (barely), as she hadn't had fun like that for awhile. Christmas was coming. The pair left, without waiting for the result of the mare. L couldn't care less.

A small miracle occurred at the Auction that day. The mare didn't ship west. She ended up not 10 miles away, NW, from Gentian's Touchwood barn. Gen's kind neighbours just couldn't let the mare go, with such a kind, intelligent eye and her terrible lack of weight. They rarely visited Auctions, but they knew Gen was away touring. They were still looking for Golly too. Instead, they found a red TB mare, already loaded on the "kill-buyer" truck. Arriving home, they unloaded her, and her first response was a surprising strong whinny, aimed SE. Allaflame answered, but no-one else heard. I am here, thank you, I am here..
The first twist of GoLightly's fate was begun.

Samson had been acting strangely all morning. The cold fall winds were howling. Gen and Billy were busy putting up stores for the winter, and didn't really remark on his odd behaviour, until he'd disappeared. As Gen was placing her second phone call, call waiting beeped, with her NW neighbours saying Sam was there. Gen was in such a rush to go get him, she didn't hear Sam's story until they'd repeated it for her, upon arrival. There was Samson, sitting in front of a very skinny chestnut mare's stall, quietly barking every few moments. Gen stared at the mare for a long time, and finally asked "Ok, when & where did you get her, and may I have her, please?"

Gen and Samson headed to the Auction Barn the next morning. Sam alerted again at a trash bin. The sales catalogue was still tacked to the bulletin board. Pages and pages of non-descripted horses, and the chestnut mare's owner listed as "L.M." None of the staff admitted to remembering either the mare or the seller. They were paid to forget things quickly. An "L.M." was also listed as the buyer of a weanling. Gen found the seller, but he again declined to say much. Auctions are for soon to be forgotten horses.

Gen was sure of her dog, but unsure what he'd found. Gen knew, somehow, the man Sam had rushed at the Feed Mill was connected. But how?
Gentian hated Auctions and always tried to avoid them. She couldn't save them all, and relied on her local Humane Society to alert her. It was often easier that way. People were happy to sell horses out of a field. The chestnut mare had a connection to GoLightly. Sam continued to alert to the chestnut mare, until she was bathed. GoLightly's scent had to be rinsed away, for the mare's sake. Gen named the skinny mare "Mystery". Her tattoo was almost obliterated, naming her breed, but not clearly defining who she was, or where she had been. Mystery easily gained weight, as horses do when fed.

She blossomed into a sweet, mostly sound, honourable red mare. Mystery had been in hell. Mystery knew she'd found heaven. Gen, in desperation, after many tries from local eyes, sent a picure of the mare's tattoo to the Jockey Club. The JC could not be hurried though, and she tried not to check the mail every day, for several weeks. Anything was worth a shot at this point! Gen and Billy plastered the Auction BB with GoLightly's poster. At the next Auction, which Gen & Samson attended, Samson remained silent.

Gen had to bid, feeling her flash of recognition on two horses. Gen bought a blind 30 year old pony and a 16.3 hand plain bay Thoroughbred gelding with a terrible hoof injury. Gen & Billy loved on the old pony for a few days, then put the pony down, quietly and kindly. The gelding, with a year's rehab, would be an excellent hunter. Billy was thrilled at the prospect, although of course he didn't show it. Billy loved to fix a good horse. At 20 years Gen's senior, he never admitted to any age. Gentian often caught herself thinking "What will happen when Billy's not here?" He was her friend, mentor and horseman, a rare, quiet, capable man.

Part 11

Gentian finally found an excuse for the long drive to Dr. Rick's. Billy couldn't go, as he hadn't the first time, and Gen wanted no suspicion as to her motives from Rick. Samson waited silently in the trailer as she tried out Dr. Rick's horse. The plan had been carefully trained. Gen concentrated on her breathing as they chatted about the horse. As usual, the Vet's eye for functionally correct conformation was spot on. The horse, a gelding, was a massive TB/Friesian cross, and had a perfect 10, rolling, rocking canter. He left the floor almost as lightly as Golly. His soft eye and willing, calm attitude allowed Gentian to honestly write a cheque for the horse. Craig went back to the barn to ready the horse for transport. Gen's recent sales of DragonFly and the other amateur horses had bolstered her bank account. Gen breathed slowly and carefully as she lowered the ramp, quietly. Samson, equally stealthy, crept unseen into Rick's barn, just as Craig and the carefully wrapped horse came out. The horse loaded easily, and Gen held her breath, counting the seconds Samson was trained to search for.

When Gen heard Sam bark, she nearly fainted. Dr. Rick scowled, and quickly Gen headed to the barn, mock-scolding Samson. He had Jack Toronto cornered in the tack room. Gen apologetically "caught" Sam and put him in the truck. Gentian laughed about it, saying Samson had now fooled her twice. Samson loved to steal a few rides in the trailer, she lied. Gentian hid her disappointment well. Samson hadn't scented GoLightly. He'd picked up on JT's dishonest heart, and was reprimanding him for it. Gentian was informed of JT's character, by her Samson. Sam had been trained to use several voices, for different tasks. Sam's voice was not telling Gen what she needed to hear. At least Gen was pretty sure Dr. Rick, Craig and JT were somehow part or privy to the crime against her horse. Where was GoLightly?


Dr. Rick watched Gen's rig through narrowed eyes as she drove away. He asked JT what he'd done to provoke the dog, to which Jack honestly replied "Nothing." The cheque in Dr. Rick's pocket helped him to decide it was a non-event. Gen's acting was flawless. As his latest meds kicked in, Dr. Rick decided to forget about it. Dr. Rick disliked dogs, always had. Samson had turned and growled at him, before he jumped in Gen's truck. Dr. Rick hated dogs, he decided.
Jessie, smelling lightly of Golly, visited with her father at Rick's barn the next day.. Golightly's luck was an hour-glass, sand draining, silently.

Gentian blew a long sigh, as she drove home, trying to enjoy the thought of hacking out her new horse. But, she simply handed the shank to Billy and went to visit Mystery for a while. Billy happily loved on the new horse, and named him "Rough Cut" for his feathered, kevlar-hard legs. Sam softly sighed, as he went to sleep in front of Golly's stall, empty since the old pony's passing.

The vet had wept, looking at the pony's feet. Untreated, exacerbated founder, the worst pain for any horse, the hooves as hot coals. Gen had the same routine for all her horses due for mercy vet visits. The animal was given whatever level of pain medication gave relief. If the animal was terrified, Emily donkey would gently calm them, until they could be given medications in their water. As the horse's pain/terror waned, they were groomed and fussed over as much as they wanted. All her mercy horses died quietly and peacefully. There is an art to euthanasia and a science. It was Gen's promise to honour, for each of these horses was owed this simple thing. A gentle death, at the right time. Gentian had insisted on learning to do it herself, when Billy showed his skills to her, early in their partnership. Gen had a kinder power than many so-called humane people, who prolong an animal's suffering for the funds it can raise, or the false feeling of hope for the human. Gen had several pieces of her old horses, a fringe benefit of five attempts at admission to veterinary school. All the pathologists were huge fans of hers. Gen had several teaching "instruments" that demonstrated correct and incorrect leg structure at the ligament/skeletal level. She had learned to warn the squeamish, before presenting "Foreleg of Dolly" at her conformation and soundness clinics. Gen honoured all her horses.

Mystery drank and ate, and fluttered her soft red nose in Gen's coppery red hair. Mystery then snorted, firmly, at Gen's sorrow.
Billy laughed with glee at the good day he was having. His Hoof Horse was healing well, the new horse stupendous and his Rider/Boss's hair was full of nice clear horse snot. He carried the news from the Jockey Club, as well. Mystery was solved. Her previous owner was Dr. Rick Thomlinson, DVM. Wherever GoLightly was, it wasn't at Dr. Rick's barn. Gen decided to spend a little extra on GoLightly's search party.

GoLightly whinnied softly in his stall, slowly reviving from his stupour. His company always answered, as bravely and as quietly as they could. Horses endure, without question. It is the horse's inherent nobility, to accept direction with honour.
L's behaviour worsened, but her visits to the barn became less frequent. She drank and ate heavily, and her weight ballooned. When she was sufficiently hammered, she would stagger out to the barn, and harass the closest animals, the unfortunate dogs, usually. Ian cleverly stalled GoLightly as far away from the house as possible. Ian had learned to handle the "customers" very well, and did his best to make the horse's lives less uncomfortable. It was a terrible testament to L's choice of clientele that none of them, regulars included, ever recognized GoLightly. None of her customers had any real interest in the animals.
Jessie, never having met him, knew him right away.
The dogs were routinely beaten and starved, before L would stagger back to the house. Then, one night, L sacrificed the weanling, for her special amusement, to the dogs.
Ian's heart burst that terrible night. He also, finally, recognized what he had to do. Job be damned. Ian got a brain tune-up, as he buried his head in the pillow, to drown out the dogs rage and the weanling's dying shrieks of pain. The horses all cried that night. It was such a chorus of sorrow Ian had never heard before. He never wanted to hear it again. Pain has a voice only kind people can hear.
L did not leave the house for three days. She left Ian a note for errands to run, cash & the truck keys nailed to her door. Ian made an anonymous phone call from a booth in town, as he waited for his order to be loaded. The local Humane Society was on holiday schedule, as it was Christmas Eve.
Ian completed his errands, and went back to the horses. After all, they had given him back his spine.

end part 11


Off to visit step-daughter tomorrow. Have a Merry Boxing Day, from Canada, eh?