Free Blue Ribbon Champ by Marsha Hubler Page B

“Chad, get me a hoof pick from the cab, will you?”
    Skye tied Champ to a brace on the side of the trailer and loosened the horse’s cinch. “You’ll be glad to get this tight thing off, won’t you, fella?”
    Joey stood next to Skye and tickled Champ’s chin. “He sure is a pretty horsey, ain’t he?”
    “He sure is.” Skye pointed at the buckskin. “But so is Bucky, and you’re soon going to ride him in the show.”
    “Ooh, I get to do that today?” Joey clapped his hands and giggled.
    “Today’s the day,” Chad said as he handed the pick to Mr. Chambers and grabbed Bucky’s bridle.
    “Are you and Champ gonna help me, Skye?” Joey asked.
    “No. You’re going to ride Bucky in the ring the way you’ve been doing all this week. Remember how you’ve been practicing on the field at home? You’ll do fine.”
    “Oh, okay,” Joey said. “I’ll do my best.”
    “We know you will.” Mr. Chambers started to clean Bucky’s hooves.
    As Skye’s glance met Chad’s, he winked from under his dark brown Stetson. She turned red-hot and returned to her business with Champ. Her heart did backflips.
    “Uh-oh,” Mr. Chambers said after he lifted Bucky’s right foreleg.
    “What’s the matter, Mr. C.?” Chad asked then also examined the hoof.
    “Look here,” Mr. Chambers said. “That thrush did more damage than we thought.”
    Skye hurried to take a look. Joey followed her. “Dad, we kept after that thrush all summer. What’s wrong?”
    With the pick Mr. Chambers pried underneath Bucky’s frog, and the entire pad lifted up. “His whole frog is rotted. It’ll take months for that to grow back, if at all.”
    “But we cleaned it every day,” Chad said.
    “And dumped hydrogen peroxide on it too,” Skye added.
    “It’s not your fault,” Mr. Chambers said. “The damage was done before we bought him. Whoever owned him before didn’t keep after the problem. The infection had already started underneath his frog months ago. I knew it was in bad shape, but I was hoping it would last until the horse show was over.”
    “Is he sick?” Joey asked.
    “He’s not really sick,” Skye said. “He just has a sore foot.”
    “Does he need to go to the doctor?” Joey asked.
    “No,” Mr. Chambers said. “Bucky’ll be all right, but without that padding on his hoof, he could go lame. He’ll need shoes now to give that hoof support. Chad, take his tack off. Nobody’s riding him today.”
    Joey stood back and watched Chad take the saddle off the buckskin. The longer Joey stared, the redder he got. His eyes filled with tears, and all of a sudden he started sobbing as if there were no tomorrow. “My horsey’s sick, and I can’t ride him!” He cried and cried.
    Mr. Chambers poked his cowboy hat back and ran his fingers down his mustache. “I’m really sorry, Joey. I know you worked real hard to be in the show.”
    Joey ran to Mr. Chambers, fell into his arms, and wept like a baby. His ten-gallon hat fell to the ground as he buried his face in the man’s chest.
    Mr. Chambers wrapped his arms around him and patted him on the back. “Don’t feel too bad, Joey. You can ride him in the show next year.”
    “Next year” to Joey Klingerman was like “never.” He sobbed uncontrollably.
    Skye walked back to Champ and started to undo his cinch. Pulling the leather strap free, she stopped dead in her tracks as Joey’s sobbing rang in her ears. Like a sign in bright neon colors, the Scripture verse from Matthew flashed before her mind: The King will reply, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”
    Skye stepped in front of Champ and stroked his soft, velvety nose. He nickered and then nodded in seeming approval of the decision she knew she had to make.
    “Joey can ride Champ,” Skye said.
    “What’d you say?” Mr. Chambers said over Joey’s wailing.
    Skye turned around. “I said Joey can ride Champ in the show.”
    “Are you sure