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World Warrior

A story of love, dedication and perseverance

By Tracey GibbonsPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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It was that brief moment between sleep and wakefulness. That blissful time before consciousness fully sets in, when you can feel your body waken and enjoy the bliss of a quiet mind. Before reality sets in, before the worries of the day come crashing down on your shoulders and the belly churning begins. Reaching her hands up high over her head and stretching languidly Molly felt her cat imitating her movements beside her and smiled.

And then… the crash.

The weight in her stomach stole her breath, nausea churned in her belly and her heart began to thud loudly. The stretch became a curl as she unconsciously moved into the fetal position. What time was it? How many hours of sleep had she managed to steal in order to escape the weight. Looking at the clock, Molly calculated, 3 hours. She had managed to squeak out 3 hours of sleep. Rubbing her forehead she tried taking a deep breath.

Her cat Wiggles climbed up onto her chest, looking up at her with his somber emerald eyes and slow blinking at her, he proceeded to purr and knead her chest with his front paws.

“Thank you,” she choked. Her eyes filling with tears. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better Wiggs.”

Stop jumping ahead. Stop predicting the worst. Just breathe and put one foot in front of the other. She hadn’t heard anything overnight, and that was good right? No news is good news?

Sighing, she removed the cat from her chest and stared again bleary eyed at the clock on her bedside table. 4:44 a.m. “I wonder if that’s a good omen.” She sighed again and rose from the bed. Shuffling into the kitchen she added some water to the kettle and turned on the burner. Wiggles curling around her ankles and still purring softly, she silently wished she could trade places with him. Nothing to worry about, except when the next treat was coming. Yes, she would very much like to trade places with her cat.

The can of food gave a slight click and hiss as she opened it and scooped some soft food into his dish. One step at a time, she silently repeated. One foot in front of the other. Breathe. Just breathe.

Adding a teabag to her cup she poured in the hot water and felt her stomach lurch again. Food, not at all appealing at the moment, but if she could just get some tea in there to calm her stomach maybe it would feel better. How do you stay calm and centre yourself when your world was crumbling around you? She had given up everything for this life, to follow her dream, to be the best and now, everything was at risk.

Picking up her tea cup she turned and saw the photo on the refrigerator. Last years grand prix. A blue ribbon was upon the horses bridle and a trophy was held high in her hand as she raised it in triumph, a broad smile across her face. The sob escaped her lips before she could stop it, and her teacup fell to the floor shattering on the ceramic tiles and sending hot water and shards everywhere. She covered her mouth with her hands and allowed herself to slump to the floor.

Decades of training, thousands of hours, days and nights spent at the stable and now her beloved World Warriors life was hanging in the balance. Sleek and oh so strong her horse was so much more than just a horse. She was her solace. After her divorce, when Molly’s life crumbled like stale bread, Warrior was who she turned to for comfort. How many tears had she cried into the mane of her beloved Warrior? Countless. She would nicker softly to Molly, nuzzle her soft muzzle into her chest. Breathe slow and deep and stare at her with those gentle brown eyes and ease all of Molly’s hurts. She seemed to know exactly what Molly needed when she needed it. Soft and gentle when Molly was sad. Goofy turning her head and lifting up her top lip to make Molly laugh when she was feeling discouraged. Or sending her into the dirt when she lost focus and got too wrapped up in her own ego. Warrior had heart. She had brains. She was the whole package. Their bond was impregnable, they were a team, a unit. As soon as Molly had seen the yearling she knew, she just knew in her bones that they were meant to take on the world together. Or they had been, until yesterday. Yesterday, everything had changed.

Warrior had been found down in her stall, breathing heavy and sweating. The vet was called but couldn’t find the source of the issue so she had been transported to the closest vet hospital which was four hours away. Blood work. Ultrasounds. MRI’s. It was quickly determined she needed emergency surgery to fix a blockage in her intestines. Every horse owners nightmare - colic. Horses, so big and strong and yet, so fragile. Twelve hundred pounds on four tiny legs. A bad step. Rolling the wrong way. Not enough water. Not warming up enough. Cooling down too fast. Heck, eating too much grass and the dreaded colic could raise it’s ugly head.

No guarantees. That’s what they had said. No guarantees. We will perform the surgery, but no guarantees. We need $10,000 up front, but no guarantees. And now, minute by painstaking minute, her beloved Warrior was fighting for her life, and Molly was living in fear. She had a little savings, but if her horse didn’t make it, she was finished. She would have nothing left. No money to start over, no money for training and no horse to train with. But worst of all, she would lose her best friend and only thing in her life that made the world more bearable.

Of course, everything happens in threes and this was the icing on the proverbial cake. Last week she had lost her beloved aunt, and one of the cats from the barn had been attacked by a fox and hadn’t survived her injuries.

Rising from the floor she grabbed the broom and started cleaning the shards from the floor. Dumping the dustpan full of shards into the trash she jumped as the phone rang. Her heart dropped into her toes. With trembling hands she picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Is this Molly Critch?”

“Yes,” Molly gulped, fear squeezing her stomach.

“Hi Molly, I am calling from the offices of Whiteway, Hawthorn and Pochini. We have a rather urgent matter to deal with and we were wondering if you would be able to swing by the office today?”

“Oh,” Molly said, a little confused, “Is something wrong?”

“We just need you to come in and speak to Mr. Hawthorn about some matters to do with your aunts estate.”

“Estate?” Molly, so close to hysteria almost burst out laughing. Her aunt had a two bedroom bungalow and hadn’t worked in 20 years. “Uhm, ok, I guess. What time did you need me to be there?” She asked and reached over to pick up her little back book so she could write down the time and address of the lawyers office. Ten o’clock, which gave her more than enough time to grab a shower, fix her makeup to make herself look less like a ghost and cover the dark circles under her eyes, then make the trip downtown and find a place to park.

Double checking the address in the little black book, she typed it into her maps app and typed it into the phone. As she did so the phone rang again. It was the vet office.

“Hello Ms. Critch?”

“Yes,” Molly swallowed hard.

“This is Dr. Marley, we have an update on World Warrior.”

“Yes,” Molly took another deep breath.

“I’m afraid there have been some complications over the last few hours. World Warrior’s incision has been bleeding and we aren’t seeing any movement from her intestines. We are thinking there is a strong possibility that the two ends that we re-attached are not making a good match and we have to go back in and take out another section in order to try and make a better seal. The two ends that we attached were both healthy, but sometimes, for some reason, they just don’t seem to want to communicate with each other and so, we need to try again.”

Tears rolled down Mollys cheeks.

“We will need your permission to go back in. Please know, however, that we are basically starting from scratch. Unfortunately, this will likely double your bill and there are no guarantees that it will work this time either.”

“Can I have some time to think about it?” Another ten thousand dollars? Where was she going to come up with another ten thousand dollars?

“We can give you an hour or two. But if we are going to do this, time is of the essence and the longer we wait, the less her chances for recovery will be.”

“I understand.”

“Ok, I’ll wait for your call.” Dr. Marley said. Was it just her, or was there a note of admonition in his voice?

Her hands shaking she hung up the phone. Just do the next thing. The next step. She couldn’t afford another ten grand. Who was she kidding? She was going to be paying the first ten off for the next five years if she was lucky. Breathe Molly, breathe. She was going to have to wait tables, or sell herself on the street in order to pay for this! But how could she let her girl go? How could she give up on her dream? How could she let her horse, her best friend, die?

Parking in front of the law firm she took another deep breath and grabbed her purse. Blotting her makeup in the mirror and adding some more powder under her eyes she made her way to the office.

“Molly Critch to see Mr. Hawthorne,” she told the receptionist, who promptly picked up the phone to call his office.

“Ms. Critch is here to see you Sir.” Hanging up, the receptionist got up and moved around the desk, “Please follow me. Can I get you some water? Tea? Coffee?”

Molly shook her head and moved into the elegant office and sat.

Mr. Hawthorne got up and shook her hand. She was numb.

“Are you okay Ms. Critch?” He asked with concern.

She shook her head. “I can’t talk about it right now. Is something wrong with my aunts will?” She asked hoping to get to the point and get this over quickly so she could get out of the office and think. She just needed to think… and breathe.

“On the contrary. Your aunts will was read yesterday and she has left everything to you.”

“What?” Molly asked with confusion.

“Yes, the home she owned. Her 2018 Toyota Corolla and her savings, which come to the amount of $20,000.” He smiled at her.

“What?” Molly asked again. “But she didn’t have anything. She wasn’t rich or successful or anything. She hadn’t worked in 20 years!”

“Well your aunt was lucky enough to have made some good investments over the years and so, she had something to leave you.” He smiled at her again.

Realization dawned on Molly. It was as if storm clouds had parted. As if she had burst forth out of a cocoon of despair. Grabbing her purse she started grabbing things and tossing them to the floor. Mr. Hawthorne looked on in shock and worry at Mollys reaction to the news. Finally finding her phone in the belly of her bag she clicked on recent calls and hit Dr. Marley’s number.

“Hello,” he answered. Without preamble or greeting, Molly simply said, “Do the surgery.”

horse
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