I think I was six when I first met Myrna, maybe seven, but I couldn't have been much older. Her family was new to the neighbourhood and had bought the farm next to ours. Since they were new neighbours, my folks had invited them over for coffee and a chat. I think Myrna was a year younger than I was, but I'm not sure. I do know that I was going to a one room country school but she hadn't started yet.
Like all kids, at first we were shy of each other, then I suppose I did something to show off because she was so pretty and I wanted to impress her. It was probably something silly like doing a somersault or trying to stand on my head, some dumb stunt or other. It doesn't matter, what does matter is that before very long we were friends.
I know that at that time my cat had new kittens and I remember that I gave her one. She wanted to take it home with her that day, so I and my father had to explain to her that it was just a baby, and that it had to stay with its mother until it was weaned. We did say that she could come and see it any time though. I remember that she embarrassed me something fierce that day. Before she and her folks went home, she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, which made my big sister giggle like mad.
That kiss may have embarrassed me, but it didn't stop me from liking her. We were best friends from that day on and we used to see a lot of each other. It started because she wanted to see that kitten every day, so she'd come over as soon as I was home from school. Then after the kitten was old enough and she had it at home, she used to walk over to play with me or I'd walk over to her house to play with her.
Of course as time passed, things changed. Myrna started school and I got teased by the older boys about my girlfriend. I started to get angry, but Myrna quickly managed to defuse my anger. She took my hand in hers, looked the biggest of the bullies in the eye and said "So what? You jealous?"
That probably only had an effect because it shocked him, but the fact that she was so pretty probably meant that he was jealous and that might have counted as well. Of course we still got ribbed and teased, but I somehow managed to keep my temper, most of the time.
Another big happening in our lives developed when my family got an old quiet horse for me to ride to school. Before that I'd been riding behind my sister on her horse. Shorty was old, but he'd been trained extremely well. He could be ridden bareback, with a saddle, or he would even pull a cart.
Of course the very first thing I did after he was unloaded from the horse trader's truck was to hop onto his back and ride down the hill to show Myrna. It's a good thing that horse was old and patient because inside of seconds, she was climbing up behind me and we were riding double. Almost instantly we were a laughing screaming pair of hellions, bent on having fun.
Since we rode that old horse without a saddle, if we got too carried away, we fell off. We got bumps and bruises and scrapes and it didn't matter. That old horse gave us an independence that children nowadays don't really get until they have a car, yet in those days of innocence, our families trusted us as long as we were together. I'm not sure they should have, but they did, and their trust led to our lives developing the way they did.
By the time we were ten, we'd found a private swimming hole in a local creek, and of course on hot days, it was just much too much temptation to resist. At first we tried keeping our underpants on when we swam, but after trying to ride home in wet underclothes a time or two, we found that wearing wet underwear while riding on a bareback horse was not a good idea. The solution was simple. We skinny dipped.
Now don't get any ideas that at ten years old we were having sex, we weren't, but we sure knew what each other's bodies looked like. It's funny, but when we were naked, we never touched each other. I remember I thought she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen, but somehow I felt if I touched her that would be ruined. I suppose she knew that if she touched me, I'd have an unspoken permission to touch her in return. So for a few years, we found ourselves looking, but not touching each other when we were naked.
We made up for that when we had clothes on. Sometimes we'd hug or cuddle, but at other times we'd tussle and roughhouse with each other.
I think we were in our early teens, and we were wrestling in fun, when I accidentally touched her on the chest harder than I'd meant to and she screamed in pain. I'd felt a hard little lump under my hand and I knew it was her developing breast. I felt like hell because I'd hurt her and made her cry. I didn't know what to do.
I was a healthy active teenager, and I got hard-ons at the drop of a hat. Because I knew what I'd accidentally done. and because it was slightly sexual, I got a rock hard boner. Myrna had dropped to her knees and bent over clutching her breast, but trying to hide it from me. In my sorrowfulness at having hurt her, I put a hand on her shoulder and started to say that I was sorry, but she reacted in pain and annoyance. She swatted her hand back to push me away and since she was hurting, she probably swung her hand harder than she needed to. Her hand drove the metal zipper of my blue jeans against the ultra-sensitive head of my cock.
It was my turn to fold over in pain.
That day changed our lives and our attitudes toward each other forever. We both said we were sorry before we each went home, and I don't know about Myrna, but I felt lost. I know we both did our best to stay away from each other for several days.
Then I was out walking one day in one of my favourite spots and I walked around a clump of willows, almost running into Myrna coming the other way. We both stopped, and then we both started to speak at once. Seconds later we were in each other's arms. Before we went home that day, we'd kissed and cuddled to make up, and I'm fairly sure that was the first time we said we loved each other.
More time passed and during junior high and high school my old horse was retired, we were being bussed to a small town school each day. Suddenly it wasn't so odd for us to be seen together at school or on the street. Somehow now that we were older, it was okay that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Our relationship was gradually changing all the time.
Since we were going to school by bus, I eventually realised that I really didn't need a horse any more and I set out to sell old Shorty. I loaded him into the back of our farm truck and took him to the auction, then I made the mistake of staying to watch him be sold.
Shorty was old, but over the years his reputation had spread around the community. Tales were told about how gentle he was, how patient he was, how smart he was, and so on. There were people who wanted a horse like that for their young children so the bidding was fast and furious and I was astounded at the price he brought in. Then I made a second decision that changed my life.
I was in a great mood, the auction was exciting, and I stayed a while longer. The next lot up for auction took everyone by surprise. It was two partially trained horses that were being sold as a pair even though they looked totally mismatched. One was a tall and rangy gelding with a roman nose and jerky gait, while the other was a short and sleek mare with a finely chiselled head and a motion that was smooth as silk. The only real similarity was their colour. Both of them were chestnuts with a star on their forehead.
The auctioneer explained that these were two horses bred from the same mare by different studs and that they were so close to each other that they created a fuss if they were separated. On top of that, they were both unbroken to ride. The owner was asking that they be sold as a pair. It seemed that people didn't like the idea of buying a pair of unbroken horses and bidding was exceptionally low.
Somewhere in my head, a bell went off. I could suddenly imagine Myrna and I riding together again, only now with each of us on our own horse. I bid, and my bid was far less money than I had gotten for my old horse, but to my absolute astonishment my bid won out. I had gone to the auction with one horse and went home with two.
Of course my family thought I was totally nuts until I told them that I wanted to break the horses of being together all the time, then I wanted to give the smaller and much prettier horse to Myrna for her birthday in a month's time. That was suddenly a completely different kettle of fish. Suddenly my whole family wanted to help.
We started that night by putting one horse in one box stall in the barn and the other horse in the stall next to him. The next day we'd take one horse outside at a time to graze and we made sure he was kept nearby, but not too near. Part way through the day, we'd swap which one was outside and which one was inside. Each night we gradually moved them into stalls that were further and further apart.
While we were getting them accustomed to being apart, Dad helped my sister and me to break horses the way he felt was right. That wasn't to force the horse to accept someone jumping on their back and riding them as they bucked and fought. Instead we made friends with them and then trained them to want to please us. It wasn't long before they were trying to please us by doing what we wanted.
By the end of the month, we had those horses trained to be separated without making a fuss and to be ridden as well. I was proud as punch. My family surprised me though. The morning that I was going to ride the two horses down to give the one to Myrna, I found my family all in the barn. Somehow Dad had found an old pair of matching saddles and bridles at an auction. After he'd repaired them, Mom and my sister had cleaned up the old leather until it shone. That morning, they'd gone out early and had cleaned up the horses, then saddled them for me. There were tears in my eyes when I hugged each of them and thanked them from my heart.
I was in an almost ecstatic mood when I rode down the hill to see Myrna. When I knocked on their door and Myrna came out demanding to know where I had been hiding, she never even noticed the horses for a moment. Then I gave her the reins to her new horse and said "Happy Birthday."
It's a good thing that we'd trained those two horses to 'ground tether' because in just seconds we'd both dropped the reins as she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I guess our folks had been talking, because when we broke the kiss, her parents were standing on the porch, looking on and laughing in delight at Myrna's happiness.
Of course she had to go for a ride and she ran inside to change while I talked to our folks. When she went to get astride her little mare, I found that my Dad and my sister had planned a little extra surprise for both of us.
Whenever Myrna rode horseback, she had a habit of wearing a skirt over a pair of jeans. Dad and my sister had trained that little mare to reach forward with her right foot, then to drop down by bending her left foot into a kneeling position when someone in a skirt went to ride her. After Myrna was in the saddle, the little mare stood back upright again.
While she'd been getting in the saddle, my horse had been a bit edgy, but it didn't really worry me. As Myrna swung her little mare and rode away, I flipped into my saddle and followed. That day we rode until we had sore bottoms and then went back to Myrna's place to have a marvellous birthday party with both of our families.
I wish I'd paid more attention to my horse's dislike for skirts though. After we'd eaten and Myrna had opened her other presents, she wanted to try riding my horse to see what he was like. That's when we found out that he hated skirts. When she swung her leg over his back, he bucked and threw her. She landed on her already tender fanny. Of course when my horse started to buck, her horse panicked a bit and I had my hands full just holding her horse and then catching mine.
Both of our Mom's and my sister ran to help Myrna and to check if she was okay while our Dads came to help me. By the time we had things under control with Myrna's horse put away and mine tied to a post in the yard, the women folk were all inside. Myrna didn't really seem any the worse for wear except that she was walking gingerly. She complained that it was the first time she'd ever gotten her birthday bumps from a horse which brought a chuckle from all of us.
I and my family didn't see Myrna for a few days after her birthday, but she made up for it. Inside of a week, I was being woken up in the morning to her sitting on her horse and reaching up to knock on my window, asking me what I was going to do that day. We rode together. We worked together. We played together. We ate together. The only thing we didn't do was sleep together.
In some ways I suppose it was very strange that we were so close for so long and yet we never got sexually involved beyond petting and mutual touching. Well, that is until the day of my graduation. I doubt if I'll ever forget the happenings of that night.
Graduation in our town was a huge day for everyone involved. The celebration and awards ceremony started at about five in the evening and carried on for hours and hours. First there was the awards ceremony, then there was a graduation dinner for the grads, their families, and their friends. After that there was the graduation dance. When the dance finished, there were often all night parties at various people's homes as well, so grads and their dates were often out all night.
When I picked Myrna up before the ceremonies, I was speechless at the sight of her and her dress. Her hair was done up high, her makeup was perfect and she was wearing a dress that left no doubt about the fact that she had cleavage, as well as a wonderful figure. She looked absolutely gorgeous and I was never prouder of having anyone standing at my side throughout the whole evening or dancing with me later. Both of us had brought along a change of clothing for after the dance because we were planning on going to the grad party one of our friends was having and we actually changed at the dance hall, part way through the evening.
It was after Myrna had changed her clothes and while I was changing mine, that our evening took a hard left turn. Some of the kids at the dance had been drinking heavily and I came out of the guy's washroom after changing to find a scuffle going on in the hallway. Through the crowd, I could see that a pair of drunks had cornered Myrna and were demanding that she show them "a little bit of tit, like in that other teasing dress." Somehow I heard those words over the music and I saw red. Suddenly I was pushing my way toward her as fast as I could move.
I was on my way to break up the scene when one of them reached out toward her and grabbed at her breast. She screamed. Suddenly it was as if the whole dance hall fell silent and everyone turned toward us. I knew that scream, it wasn't a scream of fear, it was a scream of rage and a challenge. She kicked the guy who had been reaching for her in the pit of the stomach and I managed to grab the other one by a shoulder. He almost broke my fist when he slammed his nose against it.
By the time one of the teachers reached us, both of the drunks were being held down on the floor by some of our friends and I was holding an extremely tearful young woman in my arms. When I tried to explain what had happened, the teacher waved my explanation away, telling me that he had seen the whole thing, but just hadn't been able to get there in time.
I managed to steer Myrna away from the scene after that and she decided she wanted to get some fresh air. We went outside and actually went for a short walk. When we got back a few minutes later, we met the town cop who had been looking for us. He had the two drunk kids in the back of his car and he asked Myrna if she wanted to press charges. I would have, but she looked at the two kids and shook her head. Instead she told the cop that she wouldn't do that if he'd take the kids and put them in confinement until their parents could come get them. She felt they were too drunk to be running around free.
"Do you know who those two are?" The cop asked with a wry grin.
Both Myrna and I shook our heads.
"Well, since they both go to a parochial school, that's not a surprise. The one holding his gut is the son of the Baptist minister and the one with the bloody nose is the Presbyterian minister's son." He spoke quietly. "The two of them have been riding on the reputation of their fathers for a while and getting wilder all the time. I don't usually like calling parents about their wayward kids, but I think I'm going to enjoy making those two phone calls."
"I'll take care of them, you two go back into the dance and enjoy yourselves. I plan on explaining the facts of life to these two before I call their parents, like the fact that you could have them jailed for assault and perhaps even attempted rape. And thank you both for stopping when they were down, that means a lot to me."
Both Myrna and I were left staring after him as he climbed into the car and drove away. Of course even though he'd spoken quietly, others had overheard what he said. When we got inside, the rumours were already flying and it wasn't long before we were being treated as if we were heros in some way. Neither of us felt proud of ourselves, so it wasn't long before we felt we'd had enough. We went out and sat in my car until it was time for the last dance, both of us felt that we had to go back inside and dance to that.
Even during that last dance, we weren't comfortable. It seemed that everyone was treating us special somehow, in fact we danced in an open space as we drifted around the crowded dance floor. Seconds after the dance ended, Myrna was tugging on my hand, almost begging for us to leave as quickly as we could.
Once we were in the car, she admitted that she didn't think we should go to our friends party because she felt we were going to get the same treatment there. When I asked if she wanted to go home, she admitted that she didn't want to do that either. She wanted to talk.
So we drove my beat up old car down to a picnic ground we liked down by the river. At first we sat in the car and talked, then we decided we wanted a campfire. While I built one in one of the fire pits, she pulled the old blankets that I used for seat covers out of my car and spread them nearby.
Snuggled side by side in those blankets and near that little fire, we talked the night away. We talked about the happening of earlier in the night and about our friends, but mostly we talked about what we wanted to do for the rest of our lives.
I didn't want to stay on the farm and be another farmer. I wanted to be a veterinarian and work with animals. I'd known that was what I wanted to do for years and I'd known that in order to do it, I'd have to win a scholarship. That was a tall order on it's own, but what made it even tougher was that Canada's one and only veterinary college at that time was thousands of miles away in Guelph, Ontario. They got scholarship applications from all over Canada and they were notoriously tough about giving one out.
I was on tenterhooks about the grades of my final exams and I admitted it to her. She knew how badly I wanted to go so she told me that she'd help me in any way she could. Then we snuggled and kissed for a while as I thanked her in advance.
After a while she explained that she wanted to stay on the farm and raise horses. In a way I thought that was nuts, but since both she was so enthused about the idea and had even infected my sister with her enthusiasm, I knew better than to argue with her. Her plans were to raise ponies, then to train them to be gentle, and sell them to people for their children to ride.
That's when she told me that she'd already bred the little mare I'd given her, and that she was expecting her to foal in another month.
Of course she thanked me all over again for that little mare. Only this time we were all alone in a romantic setting, and it was my graduation night. There between two ratty old blankets, next to a flickering campfire, and under the early morning stars, she gave me the most precious gift she had to give.
Afterward as we lay there, I was worried that I'd hurt her but she denied that, then smiled rather wryly.
"Oh, I enjoyed it. It wasn't painful at all, but then I didn't have a hymen for you to break." She whispered. "That damn horse of yours took care of that a couple of years ago."
"He did? Well, if I'd know you were that desperate, I'd have volunteered." I teased, then kissed her ear.
"You ass!" She giggled. "Remember my birthday, when he bucked me off? Well when I landed, it tore away. Both your mom and mine knew instantly what had happened. Why do you think they rushed over to me and hustled me inside so fast? And why do you think I was walking so gingerly for a few days afterward?"
I had to admit I had just thought she was bruised and she giggled again, telling me that she was and that was really what had hurt the most.
Then she astounded me by asking if we just might try things again, but this time a bit slower and with her on the top. I didn't argue. It seems she knew more than I did. The second time was much better for both of us.
It wasn't until the next day that it suddenly dawned on me that we hadn't used any protection at all and I started to worry. I just had to talk to her. When I drove down to her folk's farm, she was out at the corral currying her horse and when she saw me, she came running into my arms, giving me a huge hug and kiss. I wanted that affection, but at the same time, she knew me so well that she felt I wasn't just there for the fun of it.
When Myrna asked me what was wrong, I didn't know what to say at first, then I blurted it out. She sighed and buried her head in my shoulder.
"I gambled because I only had three days until my period, but even if I get pregnant, I'm not worried. It wouldn't be the end of the world for me."
"But I want to be a veterinarian and I won't be able to go to college if I have to support a wife and a kid." I protested.
That's when she set me back on my heels.
"Oh, I'm not ready to get married yet, even if I wouldn't mind a baby, so don't even ask me." She had a determined look on her face. "If you still want to marry me after five years or so, look me up. If I'm still single, I'll think about it."
Then she walked away. She went inside the house and she wouldn't let me in. I tried to see her or talk to her several times in the next few weeks, but she refused. At first I was bitterly hurt and then I got angry, as a result I swore I was going to win a damn scholarship and leave that damn place. I spent every spare minute hitting the books and studying for my finals.
The day I wrote my last exam, I heaved a huge sigh of relief as I walked to my car. Then I just stopped and stared. Myrna was sitting on the hood and smiling almost sadly at me.
"Aced that one too, didn't you?" She said quietly.
"Yeah, I think so." I managed to hold my temper which was rising rapidly.
"Good, I thought you would, if I wasn't around to distract you." She smiled then. "That's why I gave you the bum's rush. I thought you'd get PO'd at me and take out your frustrations on your books."
I just stared at her in astonishment.
"Well say something." She grinned. "I know I was being a bitch, but I had to. After making love to you, I wanted more, and I knew if we were together, your studies would suffer. I had to get you mad at me so you'd study your fool head off."
"You are a bitch." I growled.
"Yeah, your bitch." She laughed as I scooped her into my arms.
"Did you do that just to make me study?" I demanded.
"Yep, that's what friends are for." She giggled. "Now can we go somewhere and make love?"
For the next few months, we were an inseparable item again, until I had to go off to Guelph to the veterinarian's college. Before I left, I gave her the gelding so that the pair of horses would be together again. I think I upset my sister a bit, but since the gelding refused to let her ride him, I thought it was the safest thing to do.
I was gone for most of the next four years and I wish I could say that once I got my degree, Myrna and I had married, but we didn't.
Both of us had met someone else during that four years and both of us were married. In fact, she and her family had moved away by the time I came home to start a veterinarian practice in my old hometown. I didn't see her for years.
I didn't see anything to even remind me of her again until long afterward, about twenty-five years. During that time, my wife and I had raised a son, then we'd split up. The years of slogging around in the snow and mud had its effects on my health and I was starting to find it harder to keep clear of bronchial infections. I'd sold my practice in the old home town, then moved out to the coast.
My son had joined me there. He'd trained as a vet as well and I soon learned to depend on him a lot, in fact I felt that he might be growing into a better vet than I had ever been. We'd gone into partnership and bought out an established veterinary clinic in Saanich on Vancouver Island.
Being on Vancouver Island meant that the weather was a lot better than it had been on the prairies and as well we expected to do a lot less large animal work, so life would be a lot easier. However once we had moved, the local people soon got to know that we knew our way around the treatment of horses and there were a lot of horses in the area. That meant we were soon developing a decent business with the various riding stables and the general horse loving community on the peninsula.
I'm not trying to imply that we only had dealings with horse people. I fact most of our business was with pets; dogs, cats, and all manner of other small animals. Actually after the visit of one young woman with an old basset hound, my son seemed dreamy eyed for two days. When I asked him about it, he couldn't explain, other than to say that she was pretty and that she impressed him a lot. To be honest, since he'd always been a bit shy, I hoped she'd come back soon, and that he'd ask her out. He needed a woman in his life.
Late one afternoon we got a call from M&J stables, one of the few pony breeders on the island. We'd never been there before, but somehow they had heard of us and wanted us to look at an old mare of theirs in hopes that we could help her. My son, Don, was still learning about some of the quirks of equine medicine, so he asked me to come along.
When we drove onto the little farm, I was impressed before I even got out of the car. It was clean and neat, the buildings were top notch, and even the paddocks looked groomed. We'd hardly gotten stopped when a lovely young woman stepped out of a barn door and headed our way.
"Dad, it's Jean, the woman I was talking about, the one who came in with the dog." Don whispered, then fell silent.
I could see why he had been impressed. She was certainly easy on the eyes and when she spoke to us, her tone was polite and friendly. She was impressing me even more as she explained about the mare while leading us inside the barn, then to a box stall that held one of the oldest and thinnest mares I've ever seen.
"Two days ago, she looked fine, old, but healthy. She won't eat, she won't drink, it's like she's given up." Jean explained quietly, her eyes brimming with tears.
As a rough gauge to tell a horse's age, you often look at its teeth. A horse's teeth keep growing as it ages but at the same time, it wears its teeth down by chewing. The teeth of an older horse have to be trimmed so that back teeth don't 'float,' but as the teeth are worn and trimmed down, they develop a different shape. One glance in this horse's mouth told me that this horse was extremely old, perhaps over thirty years. That's ancient for a horse.
Don was taking the old mare's temperature, then listening to her breathing and heart beat with a stethoscope while I'd been checking its mouth and eyes. Then I looked at the overall condition of the horse. The old mare was extremely thin and her breathing was laboured, yet by looking at her coat, you could see this was a recent condition.
I had the feeling that there was something special about this horse though. Then it donned on me, suddenly I recognised the old chestnut mare. I turned slowly to look closely at the young woman.
"If woman wearing a skirt were to try to get on this mare's back, would she still kneel?" I asked.
"Even with her bad knees, she'd probably still try. That is if I'd let anyone near her wearing a skirt." I heard a voice from behind me.
It was Myrna. She still looked good; older, more mature, and somewhat heavier, but I'd gained more weight than she had. She was still a beautiful woman. I turned and stepped toward her, reaching out both arms, hoping for a hug. I wasn't disappointed.
We kept our greeting short though, our main interest at the moment was the old mare. Even though we stood side by side, our eyes were on her daughter and my son as they examined the horse. However as I stood beside Myrna, I found one arm had crept behind her in a gentle hug while one of hers had slipped around my waist, holding me just as gently. It just felt comfortable.
I glanced at Myrna's face and found her gaze meeting mine. Her eyes rolled toward the horse for a second, then lifted to meet my gaze again, silently asking a question. I couldn't bear to give her false hope. I shook my head. I was certain that we were going to have to put the old mare down. I was afraid she had something incurable. Even if we could cure whatever she had, she was just too old to recover from anything that would knock her condition back like this.
Don and Jean took some blood and sputum samples for testing while we watched. Then Don suggested that he take Jean and the samples back to the office to test them while Myrna and I caught up on each other's lives. I was still thinking about it when Myrna jabbed me in the ribs.
"Please." She murmured. "We need to talk and I think my daughter needs a break."
"Mother!" Her daughter complained.
"Oh shut up." Myrna smiled at her. "It'll do you good to get away from here for a while. We'll keep an eye on the horse."
I had to smile as I watched my son being led toward his car by a beautiful woman.
"Is she like you used to be?" I asked.
"Nowhere near as patient." Myrna answered softly. "But that's not really surprising, she's had to put up with me for the last twenty years and I've certainly grown a lot less patient as the years went by."
I wanted to know more, yet I knew that right now wasn't the time to ask unless Myrna opened up first. She was silent as we watched the car drive out of the driveway, then she turned to me and I could see the tears in her eyes. "Tell me the truth, this horse is in pain, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is." I answered, realising that's I'd been right in waiting to ask about anything else.
"And you don't think there's any cure, do you?"
"There isn't. At the most we can keep her alive, but now that she's deteriorated this much, I'm afraid that we'd just be prolonging her pain."
"Well, we can't have that. Do you have enough barbiturates with you to put her out of her misery?"
I nodded silently, we always carried a large vial of Sodium Pentobarbital with us. It wasn't a nice thought, but we'd learned that sometimes there was no prior warning when we'd have to euthanise a large animal. As soon as she saw my nod, Myrna opened the door to the box stall wide and gently rubbed her hand on the old horse's muzzle.
"Come on old girl, let's go for one last walk."
The old horse struggled a bit to get movin, but once she was outside she seemed to know exactly where she wanted to go. Myrna wasn't leading her, that horse had a goal. Myrna dropped back to walk at my side, and the tears were streaming down her face.
I didn't know what else to do, so I simply draped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her gently. Myrna's arm snaked around my back and she hugged back tightly. She was openly crying now, but her pace never faltered.
The old mare reached a gate, and we had to open it for her, then she carried on. We were going up a slight grade and her pace faltered, but she staggered on wearily, finally stopping on the crest of a knoll near a white stone. Then after a short pause she seemed to try to take one more step, but instead she dropped to her knees, then slowly collapsed.
I dropped my case to the ground and quickly pulled out a stethoscope to listen to her heart beat. It was ragged but still there. One glance at Myrna's face told me that this was where she wanted the old horse to finish its days. I opened my case again, taking out a large syringe, a needle, and the bottle of Sodium Pentobarbital. In only moments, the job was done.
The old horse seemed to relax and for a moment it seemed to breathe easier, then its breath became shorter, shallower, and finally stopped altogether. Listening through the stethoscope, I could hear the heart beat for a few seconds more, then that was gone too. I looked up at Myrna's tear streaked face, nodding once.
She walked over and gently patted the dead mare's flank, then to my surprise she lifted her head and turned to walk away. I packed up my equipment case and followed her down the hill. By the time I caught her, she was waiting at the gate that we'd come through before.
"I'll have her buried tomorrow." She said quietly and to my surprise she was no longer crying.
"Is that legal?" I asked quietly. "I mean, to bury her there?"
"I don't really care." She shrugged. "You saw that white stone?"
"Yes." I had noticed it.
"Well, that's where her brother, that roman nosed gelding of yours is buried. That paddock is where I kept both of them for the last five years and I buried the gelding where he died. Until we brought her into the barn a few days ago, that's where she would stand every night. I think it's only fitting that after all these years their bones lay close to each other, don't you?"
I simply stared at her in surprise. Just thinking about that pair of horses and talking to Myrna brought back a flood of memories that the years between had displaced. After a few seconds, I smiled and nodded as I remembered her words from years before.
"Friends should be close. After all, as you said one time; 'That's what friends are for.' Right?"
She looked at me for a moment with a slowly dawning smile and reached out to hook her arm in mine, then led me toward a rambling cottage that sat under several towering firs.
We went inside and she made us a cup of tea. Then we sat on her front porch and talked about our lives since we'd last seen each other.
Her dad had gotten badly injured on the farm and had been unable to continue working, so they had sold out and had moved. They'd bought a hobby farm near Calgary in the Alberta foothills where Myrna could keep her horses, but where her dad could be closer to medical help as well. After a year, her dad had died and her mom had moved into the city. Myrna had used the money from her dad's insurance to expand the size of her hobby farm and had found that she needed help. One of the men that she'd hired really impressed her.
In fact when she'd married him, she was sure she had found her life's mate since he had seemed so interested in horses. It turned out that he loved horses all right, but only when they were racing, and then only when he had money riding on them in the way of a wager. Because of his wasting money by betting on the horses, their marriage had been an on again off again affair for about five years, until she had gotten pregnant with Jean.
It seems her husband decided that he didn't want to be responsible for a child. One day she came home from a doctor's appointment to find that he had taken all of their furniture worth anything and sold it. As well he had cleaned out their joint bank account.
"Bastard." I growled.
"Oh, it wasn't that bad." She chuckled. "After about the first year of living with him, I suspected that it was coming. Besides, the property was in my name and all the farm accounts were too. I hadn't been exactly honest with him either."
"Oh, I don't understand?"
"Well, when I'd lived at home, I'd learned from Dad and from our neighbours. I knew the horses weren't enough to make a go of it, so when I got married, I had to think of another way to make enough to keep them." She smiled and gestured around her. "All of this was paid for by growing organic veggies and hiring student labour."
She went on to explain that she'd gotten in on the ground floor of the organic produce world when it was getting started and knew that she couldn't handle all the labour on her own. She'd approached some of the students at a local college and offered them part time work. When the vegetables were ready for sale, she'd started with a roadside stand, but in time she'd found that many of the better restaurants in the nearby city had become her market.
Inside of a few years, one of the restaurant owners had wanted all of the produce of her farm for himself and had made her an offer to buy the farm. An offer that she couldn't afford to refuse. She'd taken the offer, then she and Jean had flown out to the Island to look around for a new place. Inside of a week, they had bought this place. They'd gone back to Alberta, finished off their business there, loaded their horses into stock trucks and their personal possessions into u-haul vans. Then with the help of friends, they'd driven out to the coast. They'd been living on the little horse farm for almost six years.
By the time that I'd told her a little about my life since we'd seen each other, Don and Jean had returned. They told us that the tests had shown that the old mare was terminally ill, and Myrna just nodded, then looked at me. I wasn't sure if she was asking for my silence or for me to pass on the bad news. But she only waited a second, then explained that we'd come to that conclusion already and that the old mare was no longer in pain.
I could see the tears in Jean's eyes and knew that Myrna wasn't in much better shape. From sad experience, I knew there wasn't much either Don or I could do and I felt that they should have a little time to accept the death of the old mare who had been with them so long. Don must have felt the same way because he reminded me that we were scheduled to do some volunteer work at the local SPCA that evening. We excused ourselves and left quite soon.
From the way Don looked as we left, I guessed that he while had enjoyed his time with Jean, he'd found it hard to tell her that her old friend wasn't going to survive for long. Actually we hadn't driven far before he thanked me for being there and taking care of the job, explaining that Jean had cried on his shoulder when he'd explained the results of his tests.
I hesitated a moment, then told him some of my history with Myrna, enough that he at least had an idea about the type of woman that had raised Jean. I didn't want to interfere with his life, but if Jean took after her mother, he could make a lot worse choices for a woman to be involved with.
After that night, I never heard anything from him about either Jean or Myrna for about three weeks. Then one Saturday night about ten o'clock as I was watching tv, someone knocked on my door. When I looked out, Myrna was standing there with a bottle of wine in one hand.
"Hi" I smiled as I opened the door.
"Hello, may I come in?" She demanded.
"Well of course." I grinned.
"Well, when you didn't come back to see me, I wasn't sure." She glanced around the room. "I've been sitting at home alone and getting lonely for the last couple of weeks. I thought that since it was your son who was keeping my daughter out every night, the least you could do was have a drink and talk to me for a while."
"Don's been dating Jean?" I stared at her in surprise.
"I think it's a little more than just dating. Do you have some wine glasses?"
"In the kitchen." I managed to say before staring at her again. "More than dating?"
"Yes." She laughed. "Since he brings her home just before morning chores on Saturday and Sunday mornings, I'd say that was more than dating, wouldn't you?"
"Jeez, I wish someone would tell me these things." I sighed as I set out two wine glasses and dug for a corkscrew. "To start with, I think I'm going to shoot my son."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I've been waiting to see if he developed the nerve to date Jean." I managed to get the cork out of the bottle. "Once he did, I was going to ask you out to dinner or something."
"You didn't want to ask me out because you thought it might make him back off?" She stared at me.
"Right the first time."
"Do you always spoil your kid?"
"He's always been extremely shy with girls." I sighed. "I don't think he's ever dated before and I really like Jean. I wasn't going to take a chance on screwing up his chances of having what I missed."
"You romantic old fool." She whispered.
I'd finally managed to fill the two wine glasses, but she took them out of my hands, and set them on the table. Then she flowed into my arms.
That night we did something we'd never done before. We made love in a bed. Since we decided we liked that, we developed a habit of visiting each other once in a while to try it again. I wasn't in a rush to remarry and she didn't seem to be either, so our 'dates' worked out well, at least we thought so.
Don and Jean dated for almost a year before they decided that living apart was silly and they decided to get married.
While they were on their honeymoon, Myrna needed a bit of a hand around the farm and we actually lived together for two weeks. We discovered that while we were great lovers and we were terrible house mates. Each of us had developed habits while we'd been living alone that managed to annoy the other tremendously. By the time Don and Jean came home, we were hardly talking to one another.
I think I set a record for packing the things that I'd had brought with me and leaving to go back to my own little house. The first night being in my house and on my own again was wonderful. The second night wasn't quite as good. I was starting to realize that I really did miss her, particularly at night. The third night I was going to call her, then I chickened out, but I had a very hard time getting to sleep. The fourth day, I phoned her house just before leaving the clinic, but she didn't pick up the phone. I left a message apologising for being an ass.
However when I got home her car was in my driveway, and when I walked inside she was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. We looked at each other and broke into laughter, then hugged each other and both apologised. After we ate together, she spent the night, but left early the next morning.
A couple of nights later, I spent the night at her place. We must have driven any busy-body neighbours crazy, but we developed a relationship that suited us and it lasted for years.
Jean became pregnant the second year they were married, but lost the child in a spontaneous abortion. Then two years later she had a daughter. They called her Myrna Kathleen and as she grew, she reminded me so much of her grandmother that it was uncanny. Myrna was absolutely delighted with that child and doted on her namesake, spoiling her outrageously.
Then one evening I was expecting Myrna to come over for a visit, but she didn't show up so I drove over to see her. I arrived at the farm and couldn't find her at first, then I happened to glance up the hill. She was laying on the ground at the crest of the hill between two large white stones.
I still visit her at least once a week and almost always remember to bring her flowers. I managed to find a cemetery that had a double grave on the crest of a hill and I've order a large white stone for its head. As you face it, on the right it will have her name, and there will be room on the left for mine. Of course across the bottom of the stone, the message will read "That's what friends are for."