Cold December Day

***This is 999 words :) and just to make it clear it is NOT real. Like all the writing I do I have just written and this is what has come out of it all. I haven't done any editing :)***



I saw her first on a cold December day. Nobody in their right mind was out that day, if they could help it. Yesterday's snow had turned to ice, and every so often there would be a flurry of giant hailstones. The wind was strong and forceful; so cold it pierced through your clothes, no matter how thick, and made your ears hurt.

I was running along the road, trying to get home as quickly as possible. I had been walking my dog, but with the weather the way it was, neither of us wanted to be out. The treacherous ice made it difficult for me to hurry, but hurry I did, desperate to get into the warm.

It was as I turned the corner that I slipped. Had anyone been around to watch, they might have enjoyed a laugh at my expense; as it was, my slippery descent to the ground followed by a slide of about three feet went unnoticed.

I barely even felt it as my body and face hit the frozen, stinging mass of ice; the whole of my mind was being directed at the forlorn figure standing in the field in front of me. My dog ran to bark at her, and as I called him back, she turned to look at me.

The pony was brown, but I wasn't sure if that was her coat or dirt. She was thin; painfully so, and she had no food. What grass their was in the small paddock had become entombed in the hardened ice, and as I watched she pawed the ground and butted it with her nose in desperation.

There was a lump in my throat and I felt choked as I climbed over the fence and moved towards her. She tried to whinny but the croaky sound that came out only lasted a second before it died on her lips. Tears welled up in my eyes and slide halfway down my cheeks before freezing there. I have always hated to see an animal suffer.

As I reached her, I pulled out the carrot I had in my pocket. I had intended it for my own horse, but this pony needed it far more. At first when I held it below her nose, the pony didn't even sniff it, but after a few seconds she gently lipped it up before dropping it onto the ground.

I bent to pick it up, and tried again. The same thing happened. Confused, I opened her mouth and looked at her teeth. Horror welled up in me at the state of them and my overwhelming sadness for the pony was replaced by white hot anger.

With trembling hands, I now broke the carrot into tiny pieces and this time, she manged to swallow them. By now though, I was so furious I could barely wait for her to finish before tearing off in the direction of the farmhouse. On my way out of the field, I checked her water trough. It was frozen solid and brown from mud and leaves. Enraged, I smashed my foot through it with as much force as I could muster. Instantly a cold wave attacked my foot, but luckily my wellies protected me from getting wet.

I marched up to the house and knocked on the door so hard that it shook. It was opened my the most foul and disgusting man I'd ever seen. His clothes were ripped and filthy, and his face and hair looked like they had never seen a cleaning product. He leered at me and when he smiled, I could see that most of his teeth were black and some were chipped or missing altogether.

"Yes?" He asked in an amused manner. I felt sick.

"Is that your pony in that field over there?" I asked, pointing. I had a whole load of other questions for this guy to answer, but his reply told me all I needed to know.

"Sure is. Leaving her out to die. She's too old to be any use to me anymore." Shock numbed any other reaction I could have had to this bland statement. I wanted to hit that hideous man so badly it was an effort to keep my arms by my sides. But I knew I couldn't risk offending him if I wanted to save the dying soul in the field behind me.

"I want to buy her." I stated. Not offending him was one thing, but I couldn't; wouldn't be polite to this man.

"Do you now?" The smile he gave sickened me. "And just who are you, exactly?"

"Alyssa Thomas." I scowled at him. "Not that its any of your business. How much do you want for her?"

He wanted a thousand pounds. I practically laughed in his face, and offered him all I had on me, one hundred. When he tried to bargain with me, I reminded him that he wouldn't get as much from a slaughterhouse. Eventually it took the threat of the RSPCA to persuade him.

And then I was running home once again. Never in my life have I worked so quickly. In 30 minutes I had filled a haynet and hung it in a stable, next to a bucket of water and one of food. I dragged straw into the stable until there was a good two foot high bed of it. Soon, I was back at the field with a headcollar. I had already called the vet and I knew he would be at my yard soon after I was.

It was slow going for the old, tired and deprived mare, but it was worth it to see her ears prick forward when she saw the warm loose box and smelled the good hay and food.



***



When I finally got the mud off her, I saw a beautiful, delicate, palomino ex-show pony. The vet and I nursed her back to health and she had two happy years with me before she finally let go. I was sad but I knew she was at peace and had been content to the very end. I only hope that I too end my days with people who love me.