Page 50 of Home Hearts Hooves

“Never gets old,” I say to Brutus, giving his head a soft rub. His nostrils flare a little and he starts to breathe a little faster. “You take your time now, old boy. I’ll come back and check on you tomorrow.”

I start walking towards the fence where Connor and Atlas are waiting on the other side. Connor’s mouth is wide open in disbelief, but Atlas is cackling with laughter.

“Whoever said vets don’t have a sense of humor never met me,” I say, climbing over the fence.

“Dude, seriously? Did you see me trip over. I thought for sure I was a goner, and you’re just strolling on back like it’s a lazy Sunday?”

“Stop,” Atlas cries in laughter. “It hurts.”

“Nice to know my distress is so funny,” Connor says, and Atlas slaps a hand on his shoulder.

“It sure as shit ain’t sad.”

I laugh.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to change it out, but if it comes loose, call me sooner.”

***

NIAL: Dean’s home, leg is fixed, a few plates and screws, and Brutus is good. Vet wrap is holding strong.

I messaged Nial after I left the ranch to ask that he fill me in when he knew anything. He created a group chat and let us all know Dean was being transferred to the main hospital for surgery. He messaged again at about ten that night that he was out. They kept him for two days to make sure he didn’t pick up an infection, so it’s a relief to know he’s home now.

ATLAS: I’ll be up at the house in ten.

SKYE: Yay, did he see the welcome home sign in the dining room?

NIAL: He’s smiling up at it now.

SKYE: I’m getting the goat out of the chicken coop. I think I saw Chewie prancing past a minute ago, so I’ll check the pool, then be up to say hi.

I want to message back how fucking happy and relieved I am he’s okay, but they don’t need to know that, not really. So I keep it simple and hit the mic button on the phone to use the voice-to-text.

PRESTON: Great news. I’ll be out this afternoon to change the dressing on Brutus.

When I get there, I check on Brutus first, not bothering with the iso mask this time, just the dart, but I get Nial to come out and help keep him steady after he goes down. We change out his dressings, give the new ones a good coat of fly repellant, and then are out of there in no time.

“Thanks, Doc,” Nial says, sitting on the fence rail as we watch Brutus climb slowly to his feet again.

“No problem. How’s the other patient?”

“More stubborn than that there bull.” He laughs, but his whole heart isn’t in it.

“They say ranchers make the worst patients.”

“He’s just stressing about getting everything done. Six weeks is a lifetime on a ranch, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But there’s still plenty he can do, right?”

Nial shrugs.

“He’s trying, but I know he’s hurting, and he’s supposed to be resting so that it heals. At this rate, he’ll do more damage and he’ll be out longer.”

“Can’t you get someone else to come in and help out?”

“I suggested that, but he said he’s fine and it’ll just take a few days. It’s been a few days already since he broke the fucking thing, and it’s not fine.”

Nial rubs his hands over his face.

---