November 2024 Short STory

“Easy does it, come on out bucko! There’s a good boy.” Said the horse carriage owner Steven as he led the young, four-year-old male Draft horse out of the trailer. With his eyes covered to prevent being spooked by the oncoming traffic, the youngling carefully trotted out of the horse trailer after a two-hour ride from Aldergrove in the east.

“Hey Bruno, I got your new partner here. You’ll have to teach him the ropes alright?” Said Steven as he patted the old stallion. Having worked nearly his entire life, Bruno was way past his golden years, and was getting closer and closer to his retirement on Steven’s farm and ranch.

Grunting softly as the new horse approached Bruno, Steven stroked the young horse’s neck, calming him down while asking Bruno to be nice. “No need to worry Marco, Bruno’s a bit grumpy but he’s dependable. You’ll have to learn fast from him as we start training today.”

After tying Marco’s harness to the carriage next to Bruno, Steven left them alone to get to know one another before starting Marco’s training run. The older horse immediately took in the new male, treating him as if he were his offspring. Licking his face, Marco calmed down, still slightly nervous about the new sights and sounds of Stanley Park. 

Hearing a car honk its horn behind them, Marco was spooked and stood on his hind legs, neighing in fright. Bruno, having been through this situation many times, simply kept the harness steady, keeping the carriage from being pulled away by the frightened horse. After Marco calmed down, Bruno bit onto his harness and gently pulled him back into position, standing in front of the carriage and on the road. Nudging Marco’s head, the old stallion tried to reassure him that everything was alright and that there was no need for panic. 

As Steven returned and got into the carriage’s driver seat, he took the reigns and gently ushered the pair of horses to start off on a slow trot. Following Bruno’s lead, Marco walked slightly slower, but tried to keep pace with the seasoned veteran. After about an hour or so, they finished the round trip around the park and returned back to the start where Steven had to use the public washroom, so he parked the carriage and tied the horses tight. Coming back, he suddenly noticed some graffiti on the side of the washroom building. 

Animal Abuse! Stop Horse Carriages Now!

Grunting in disapproval, he let out a sigh as this was not the first time he had seen vandalism by so called animal rights groups. Phoning the Vancouver Park Board to report the incident, he then ushered Bruno and Marco to do another test run before he would call it a day and head back to their stalls in eastern Langley. 

After they finished the second pass, Steven led both horses back into their metal trailer, which was then attached to a one-ton truck which Steven would use to pull the trailer back home.

Driving along the Number One Highway, the horses could see through thin slits in the trailer, watching as trees and buildings whizzed by in a blur. 

Approaching the large farms of Aldergrove, Steven parked the truck and trailer in his driveway before opening the trailer and leading the horses into their barns. Filled with fresh bedding, water to drink and fodder to eat, Steven double checked that their stalls were locked before heading back to the farmhouse for dinner. 

Showing by example, Bruno went to his water basin and took large gulps of water, encouraging Marco to do the same. As if realizing his thirst for the first time in a while, the young stallion drank his fill as well, before sitting down and watching the other horses in the barn. A couple of mares watched the newcomer, while chewing on the fresh straw in their feeding troughs. Other than the old timer and a horse named Alex, Marco was the only other male in the barn, after his predecessor got sick and had to be put down. 

Bruno could remember the pitiful cries of his carriage partner, as Steven and the vet tried to help him as best they could. With the infection spreading up his leg and into his organs, the owners realized there was nothing they could do other than put the poor stallion down. Bruno was grief-stricken, and wouldn’t eat or drink for nearly two days, still looking over at his partner’s stall as if he would magically appear there again.

Then a couple days ago, the new young male was brought in, nearly four years old and ready for work. He was a shy horse, tending to eat and drink in private and not making much noise either. While the other horses tried to communicate with him, he rarely answered their calls and mostly ignored their neighing. Lying on the ground, he spent a lot of his time daydreaming, thinking of his mother and siblings back where he was born. He could remember frolicking with his brothers and sisters, running in large open fields of green lush grass. Drinking from cold mountain streams running through their farm. He could also recall his owner, a large burly man with a salt and pepper beard and greying hair. He always was chewing a blade of grass and wore a leather cowboy hat no matter where he went. His grandchildren would often play with the colts, brushing their manes and singing songs to them as they petted them affectionately. The lady of the house would often bring treats for all the farm animals, feeding most of them by hand.

Marco’s father had been brought from another farm and was gone before he was even born. Never knowing his father did not bother him, but he had always wondered who his father was and what he was like. 

Pretty soon, many of the horses left Marco alone, except Bruno, who constantly tried to open up Marco to talk or play. One time, the old stallion sprayed urine at his new partner as he walked by his gate, who was shocked and moved further away from Bruno at the far end of his stall. In his younger years, Bruno had been a rebel; a prankster of sorts and known for all kinds of mischief. In fact, he had gotten into so much trouble that Steven had thought of pulling him from the team unless he behaved enough to be relied on. As Bruno got older, his mischievousness tapered, and he got into the rhythm of work and rest. No longer the trickster, he found himself a mentor to several young horses in the barn, who looked up to him as their paternal figure. Being naturally sterile, Bruno had no offspring of his own, perhaps to Steven’s benefit, but he taught the younger horses as if they were his own.

The next day, Bruno woke Marco up with his neighing, and the young stallion simply rolled over in his straw, not wanting to wake up yet. But the old timer would not give up, and kept up the tirade before the sleepy boy got on all fours and drank some water. Glad that he had finally gotten Marco to wake up, Bruno urged him to eat before the owner came to get them ready for work. Like clockwork, Steven arrived at seven o’clock sharp to put harnesses and blinders on the pair and leading them into the familiar trailer again. 

Barely able to see his mentor, Marco was surprised to see Bruno sleeping during the ride, comfortable enough apparently to get some shuteye.

Upon arriving at the park, Bruno woke up with a yawn and looked over with his blinders at Marco who was amazed at how the old timer could sleep through the noise of traffic. Greeting Marco with a neigh that seemed to say “I’ve done this a thousand times, that’s how I’m used to it.”

Then there was a burst of light as Steven opened the back of the trailer and led out his two horses. Bruno managed to grab a dandelion flower, munching on it happily before being strapped in with Marco on the carriage. Feeling slightly hungry, Marco regretted not taking Bruno’s advice to eat more in the morning before they were loaded up. His stomach growling gently, his mentor simply looked forward, as if to say “I told you so.”

Leaving the carriage empty, Steven wanted to make sure Marco was perfectly comfortable and safe before taking on any customers. Urging the two horses to start trotting, he watched their every move, making sure they were in sync and calm enough to ensure a smooth ride. 

Marco could hear the vehicles rushing past him, but with his blinders on, he couldn’t see them unless they were right directly in front of his face. Trying to keep pace with Bruno, who was surprisingly fast for one his age, they let Steven direct when to stop, slow down or go faster.

The smell of gasoline and diesel filled his nostrils and he could feel the cool sea breeze blowing against his face and through his mane. The ringing of bicycle bells constantly kept Marco alert, and more than once, he was spooked by a loud truck passing by. Holding onto Marco tightly, Steven spoke gently to him, reassuring him that everything was okay.

Suddenly the blaring of an air horn sounded behind the carriage, and a black sedan with tinted windows tailgated the carriage, with horns held outside the windows and blaring continuously.

Unable to see behind him, Steven directed his horses to stop, before getting off the driver seat and taking out his phone to catch a picture of the culprit. 

Still letting out the ear-splitting sound, they wanted to spook the horses into running, and get  proof that the horse-drawn carriages were unsafe. Much to their disappointment, Bruno was well trained and stood his ground, slightly unsettled by the noise but not spooked. His reaction to the air horns calmed Marco down, as he realized he was safe with Bruno and Steven.

Having taken video evidence of the protestors, as well as their license plate numbers, Steven got back in the carriage and waited for the sedan to leave before finishing his practice run. When the sedan showed now intention of leaving, Steven had to call the police, reporting the protester’s intentions to cause an accident with his horses. Soon enough, several officers came and spoke with the protestors, confiscating their air horns and leaving them with a warning not to repeat their offence. 

Scowling at how soft the officers were to the hooligans, Steven resumed his trot in relative peace and tranquility. Loading the horses back into the trailer, Steven gave them both an apple a piece, which Marco gladly gobbled up in his hunger. Bruno, meanwhile, enjoyed his fruit, munching on it slowly and with relish. Seeing the youngster eyeing his last piece of apple, the mentor gave it to Marco who delightfully ate it quickly. Unbeknownst to the young stallion, Bruno’s previous partner was also a strong-headed male, and the old horse treated him the same way he had treated Marco. In Bruno’s eyes, Marco was almost exactly like his late partner, a bit younger but still full of energy and zest for life. 

In fact, Bruno’s previous partner got sick after stepping on a nail, which protestors had laid along the route in front of the horse drawn carriage in an effort to stop its tours. Not seeing the nails, Steven couldn’t stop the horses in time to avoid the danger. Unfortunately, the injury to the horse’s foot was not noticed till it got infected and began spreading up the poor stallion’s leg. 

The day after the stallion died, Steven was outraged at the protestors and animal rights advocates. He understood that everyone has a right to an opinion, but turning to crime and sabotage to get things their way was a shady move in Steven’s eyes. What hurt more was that the protestors weren’t charged with killing his horse, with the police saying there was a lack of evidence to prove the protestors were guilty without reasonable doubt. From then on, Steven installed a camera onto the carriage, recording everything in its vicinity.  

Arriving back at the farm, Marco thankfully allowed Steven to take off his blinders, allowing him to take in his surroundings once again. Walking over to his stall, he hungrily started eating his fodder, sucking in large gulps of water once in a while between mouthfuls.

In the stall next to him, Bruno gently neighed at his youngster, as if to say “don’t eat too much at one go.”

Given the older horse’s canning ability to know almost these things, Marco heeded his advice and slowed down, eating a little more before laying down to rest. Drifting off into slumber, he could see in his mind’s eye, his mother along with all his cousins and older siblings. Then, there were heavy footsteps and a flash of light, blinding him for a split-second. Rough hands then picked him up despite his protests and his calling for his mother fell upon deaf ears. It would be the last time he saw his mother, as he was penned in with strangers, other yearlings that were getting ready to be sold. Most would go to cattle ranches or farms to be workhorses, but being a Draft horse, Marco had his destiny set as a carriage horse.

Opening one eye upon hearing the young stallion whimpering in his sleep, Bruno reclosed his eye, knowing the youngling had much to learn and get used to in a relatively short amount of time. While the old timer had an old, rough appearance, inside he was a softie, caring deeply especially for the young ones. 

The next morning, Bruno woke up to see Marco munching away at his breakfast, which included a sweet Fuji apple the farm lady had brought for each of the horses. Slowly getting to his feet, the old horse started feeding as well, amazed that Marco was up so early. Looking at his trainee munching away, there was a sparkle in his eye and a liveliness in his attitude that did not escape Bruno’s notice. After they had finished their meal, Steven backed up his trailer next to the entrance to take the horses to Stanley Park once again. Letting his owner put his blinders on along with a bag of oats for him to eat along the way, Marco steadily walked into the trailer, followed suit by Bruno. Waiting for his mentor to walk into the trailer with him, Marco quizzically looked at Bruno, who seemed to be slightly slow climbing the ramp. 

“Easy does it boy, there’s a good horse. Nice and easy.” Encouraged Steven. 

Neighing at Bruno as if to ask if he was okay, the old horse replied softly, as if assuring him that everything was fine. Knowing that Bruno was fine, Marco went about eating his oats, which tasted slightly better than the dry straw they were given back at the farm. 

Neither eating nor sleeping, Bruno simply watched the youngster, gently snorting to himself as if chuckling at Marco’s demeanor. There was so much in their line of work he would have to learn, including walking speed, listening to orders and to avoid being spooked by loud noises. He had learned the same skills many years ago, and now it was time to pass on the knowledge to the next generation. 

Arriving at the park, they once again immersed themselves in the sounds of the city, with cars honking, bikes ringing and people everywhere talking and laughing.

Seeing a few people holding up signs, Steven kept an eye on them, knowing that some of them were up to no good; prone to drastic action if given the opportunity. Attaching the reigns onto the horses, he got up on the carriage and beckoned the pair to start at a steady pace.

As the protestors saw the carriage coming, they immediately took to their megaphones and began blasting the air with chants.

“Keep horses rural! End horse brutality! Animal lives matter!”

Holding his breath, Steven tried not to look as he passed by dozens of protestors denouncing him, insulting him and even throwing small objects his way. But soon, the danger was past and the carriage passed safely through the rest of the route.

Taking a break, Steven fed both horses a special bar made of wheat, flour, juice, molasses and carrots. While Marco gobbled the tasty treat up in seconds, Bruno was unusually slow in eating his, barely taking a nibble here and there. Puzzled, Marco turned his head, as if to ask if the old timer didn’t like his snack.

Likewise, Steven noticed Bruno was not eating and patted the old horse’s head, asking him if he wasn’t feeling well. Airing on the side of caution, he decided to end the day’s practice runs and returned back home where he immediately called a vet to come and check Bruno out.

Shying away from the veterinarian who came a couple hours later, Marco listened as they examined Bruno, checking his vitals and looking for signs of any injury or disease. Finding no reason for the strange behaviour, they concluded they were signs he was getting old.

“I don’t know Steven. The horse looks perfectly fine for his age. Perhaps he’s ready for retirement. He is over fifteen years old, and that’s a fairly good lifespan for a working Draft horse.”

Shaking his head, Steven was saddened by the prognosis. “I was hoping to finish up his last year, getting him to train that youngling and show him the ropes. I’ve always had a senior horse to keep the younger ones in line. Perhaps after one more ride tomorrow, I’ll keep Bruno in the farm and choose another Draft to work with Marco.”

“It’s a shame that such a majestic beast can be stricken with old age, just like the rest of us. Well Steven, I wish you all the best. Let me know if you need more help with the old timer.”

After the veterinarian left, Marco curiously peeked his head around his front gate and neighed politely at Bruno, who was lying down on the straw. Replying with a weak groan, the old horse closed his eyes, trying to ignore the tiredness in his legs and discomfort in his stomach.

Neighing once more and stomping on the ground, it was as if the young stallion wanted Bruno to fight on, to not lie down in defeat. With a slight nicker, Bruno seemed to thanked him for his concern but didn’t have the energy or strength to rejuvenate himself again. Laying his head on the straw, he believed that age had finally caught up with him, and that soon he would be granted one final rest. 

Restless with unacceptance of the growing reality that he would lose his mentor, Marco stomped on the ground, neighing loudly and even charged at his gate, causing a large ruckus. Many other horses and barn animals kept silent, listening to the angry stallion’s tirade.

In Marco’s mind, he had lost his mother, siblings and now he was about to lose the horse who had been more like a father to him than any other horse. No, he would fight on, save Bruno and keep what he had left. He would not take it lying down.

Soon his antics disturbed his owner, who was just settling down to dinner in the farmhouse. Even from inside, Steven could hear the neighing of Marco, and thinking it was some sort of wild animal that got into the barn, he brought his shotgun with him as he went outside. 

Entering the barn, he found Marco had broken down not only his gate, but Bruno’s gate as well and was nudging the old beast’s head over and over, even licking his nostrils and cheek. To his shock, Steven realized the old horse was dead, and that his grieving partner was not willing to accept that fact. Stroking the young stallion’s mane, he talked to him, even though he couldn’t understand a word he said.

“Hey Marco, it’s alright. Bruno here lived a full life, and he enjoyed almost every moment of it. He wouldn’t want to see you all sad like this. Don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll find you a new partner. Looks like the only other horse with experience pulling is Alex. Although Alex is pretty harsh on the young ones.” Said Steven.

Leading Marco back to his stall and covering up Bruno for the time being, he fixed the gate temporarily, and retired back to the house where dinner was waiting. The farm lady was devastated to hear of Bruno’s passing, and they ate dinner in silence, each remembering the life of the old horse. 

The next day, Steven was leading Alex and Marco to the trailer and immediately, Marco could tell Alex wasn’t going to help him the least bit, he would rather sabotage anyone else’s efforts to make himself look better.

“Alex, I want you to be kind to Marco here. He’s new at pulling so go easy on him.” Warned Steven.

Snorting as if to disregard everything his owner said, Alex looked down at Marco, with a glint of slyness in his eyes. Almost a full three years older than Marco, Alex was stronger, faster and more experienced, which he played to his advantage whenever he could.

As they started the ride, Alex purposely bumped into Marco, causing him to make the carriage wobble.

“Steady there Marco. Keep steady.” Said Steven.

Glaring at his so-called teacher, Marco trotted on, keeping a weary eye on his sly partner. 

When it was break time, both horses had an apple a piece, but when Seven wasn’t looking, Alex grabbed Marco’s second half and gobbled it up. 

Staring in disbelief, Marco tried to appeal to Steven, but their owner wasn’t looking their way. Deep inside, Marco was seething with anger, as if his temperature was reaching a boiling point. 

Walking back to the carriage, Alex couldn’t resist smacking Marco’s face with his tail and nickering as if laughing to himself. But Marco carried on, learning the skills of the trade and learning to not let Alex’s mischief bother him. 

A couple years later, Marco had been paired with a young mare named Polly. She was the most beautiful mare he had ever seen, graceful yet powerful. Pretty soon, Polly was pregnant and spent most of her days resting in the barn. When it came time for the mare to give birth, everyone was excited, Marco included. Then, in a mere matter of moments, Marco was a father to a brown-coloured young colt. Letting Polly lick her foal clean, Steven congratulated Marco on being a father and the stallion looked over to the jealous Alex who was not selected to breed. 

Wondering what they should name the colt, Marco immediately trotted over to the stall next to his. Bruno’s old stall.

“You want us to name him Bruno, eh? Well, I think that’s very fitting, considering how much you cared for him. Bruno it is! Let it be a tribute to the old timer.”

Trotting back over to Polly and young Bruno, Marco licked his colt and looked at his eyes. Strangely enough, there was a mischievousness in the youngling’s eyes, the exact same eyes that Bruno had. 

The End