Free Ivy Takes Care by Rosemary Wells Page B

“Seabiscuit was famous before I could read the papers!”
    “Well, Andromeda beat him by three lengths. She was going to be the best filly champion of all time,” said Dr. Rinaldi.
    “What happened to Andromeda?” asked Ivy, supposing this story might not have such a happy ending.
    “Apparently she stumbled at the finish line in her next race. Threw her jockey and nearly killed him. She got a bowed tendon. Had to quit the track.”
    “Can a bowed tendon be fixed?” asked Ivy.
    Dr. Rinaldi squirted yellow ointment into the collie’s ear. The dog shook her head violently, spraying ointment all over Ivy and the vet.
    He answered, squirting more ointment into the other ear. “Sometimes the leg comes back healthy. Sometimes not. Now she’s too old to race again. That leg’ll always be a little hinky.”
    “How do you know all about this, Dr. Rinaldi?” asked Ivy, massaging the base of the collie’s ears so that the medicine would spread out inside.
    “A few years ago, family named Montgomery out at Spooner Lake found her at an auction. The Montgomerys buy down-and-out off-track horses, and she sure was down-and-out. They bought Andromeda. She’s fine now!” Dr. Rinaldi added. “She’s my patient.”
    “I’m glad for her,” said Ivy. She hated animal stories that ended badly. “What happened to the jockey?”
    “She came with him,” said Dr. Rinaldi. “Name is Ruben Velez. After he got out of the hospital, he followed Andromeda. Auction to auction. Wherever she lived, he lived. But Ruben needs a little help from time to time. The Montgomerys called me up last night. They have to go east for a while. Their daughter’s baby is being born. I recommended you to help Ruben out with their five pasture horses, Ivy. Interested?”
    “Can’t Ruben see to the pasture horses?” asked Ivy.
    “Well, they need water and hay.”
    “But what about Ruben? Can’t he do that?” asked Ivy.
    “Ruben has another job that takes him from the farm for a good chunk of the evenings. He’s also blind.”
    “Blind!”
    “He lost his helmet in that race and a couple of horses stepped on his head. He’s lucky to be alive.”
    Ivy held the trembling collie’s head under her arm and made clucking noises to calm him. “Can Ruben walk and all? Is he in a wheelchair?” she asked.
    “He’s fine,” said Dr. Rinaldi. “In the day Ruben cares for Andromeda, but then he takes the bus to his night job at the old folks’ home.”
    “Does Ruben still ride?”
    “Oh, yes. He says Andromeda is like a mother to him.”
    “Spooner Lake,” said Ivy. “That’s way off west of here. It’s ten miles or more on Old Creek Road. It’ll be dark by the time I get there. I don’t think my folks’d let me bike it.”
    “Yes, but there’s a school-bus route out there. On weekends if you rode over on horseback instead of biking, you could go over the mountain and shortcut it,” said Dr. Rinaldi. “The holiday season ain’t the divorce season. You got Mirabel and Texas and that old paint mare just standin’ around eating hay. You could get over to Spooner Lake on Mirabel in no time if you cut across Mule Canyon.”
    Ivy had to agree. The Mule Canyon trail was her dad’s favorite guest ride. Even the Never-Been-on-a-Horse-Befores could manage it.
    “Not only that,” said Dr. Rinaldi. “The Montgomerys’ll pay a buck a day. Good money for your vet-school savings, if you ask me. More’n I can pay you!”
    “What would they want me to do?” asked Ivy.
    “You gotta throw five flakes of hay into the pasture every day and make sure the horse water in their trough isn’t frozen. Rabbits need feed and water. Barn cat, too. Chickens need their feed, and their eggs collected. Lot of busy work.”
    “Dollar a day? I’ll do it,” said Ivy.
    Ivy presented the Montgomerys’ request to her parents after the supper dishes were done, when they were in good moods.
    “Honey,” said Ivy’s dad, “you can take Mirabel over the