[PHASE 1] Slow and Steady

The drive up to the rescue was quiet, almost too quiet. Damien was familiar with the process by now, having been a part of the effort for the past few years and successfully rehabilitating two problem horses. Both had been almost aggressive in their demeanor at first, almost spiteful of himself and Valerie. But with time and care, the two Loshenkas had turned into fine companions fit for a nice retirement in the pasture. Though that was always a concern when it came to rehabilitation; would they be able to be ridden again or would they end up as a pasture ornament? 

Damien sighed as the truck rolled to a stop, trailer creaking behind him. He hadn’t brought Val this time around. Sunny was feeling ill, and the other trainer had to wait for the vet to arrive for a checkup. It was a rather foreboding sign. Breaker had been well for the time being, at least that was good. 

“Alright... good vibes. Good vibes only.” He rubbed his face, opening the door and hopping out onto the gravel with a crunch. Damien hadn’t been told anything about the horse he’d be rehabilitating beforehand. It was customary for the makeover, no one knew what they were getting into and what they might have to accommodate for. It was a fun surprise, for sure, though it was also nerve-wracking. Meadow Creek had been given two horses in the past with ailments that left them retired permanently, except for maybe children’s rides here and there. Finances got tight with multiple ‘pasture ornaments’ and another on top... who knew. 

Though he pushed those thoughts away as he crunched his way up to the office and rapped on the door. He waited for a second, then opened it when he was greeted with a quiet ‘come in’. 

“Hey, name’s Damien. Meadow Creek Acres. I’m here for makeover pickup?” 

“Oh, yes! Give me just a moment, please...” The volunteer at the desk was rifling through papers, putting them into various piles. Small letters with long, highlighted lines for signatures. Spaced out lines with pictures of horses and x-rays and injuries paperclipped to the corners. Colored sheets of papers with disclaimers and big bold lettering. He had seen at least two sets of these before, having signed one of them personally. Still, he couldn’t get over how intimidating it all could be. 

“Damien, Damien, Damien... Damien! Got it. 6514, Fortunate Son.” She hummed, grabbing one of the clipped papers off the pile. An x-ray was on top of the pile... never a good sign. Though the volunteer seemed cheery. She approached him with a warm smile, holding out the papers and letting him flip through them for a moment. 

“A real sweetie, though in need of a bit more specialized care. Poor thing...” The two exited the office, Damien trailing behind the rather fast-paced volunteer. Specialized care... that was worrying. More specialized care meant more money and more money meant tighter budgeting. Which meant that perhaps that tack room renovation was getting pushed back again. Which was a shame, though he hummed at the fact that this one was friendly, at least. That was a lot better than the past two years. 

“Bone spurs... ah. That’s not something I’ve seen before.” Damien furrowed his brows a bit, shuffling along behind the volunteer as they wove through a good number of stalls. He hadn’t ever gotten to treat a horse with bone spurs before. He had never even heard of it. Which meant this was going to be a very involved process, whether he liked it or not. Maybe he should pass this one over. Were they really ready for another horse in need of intensive care..? 

He shook the thoughts from his head as they came to a stop in front of a pasture. He had been through the same thing with Valerie the year prior: putting in the work that no one else wanted to do made the eventual success that much more rewarding. If he could get out of his own head and focus on the horse – Fortunate Son, apparently – in front of him, everything would work out in the end. Surely. 

“It might take a bit to get him out of the pasture and onto your trailer, but he shouldn’t try and fight you on it,” the volunteer spoke with a grin. The stallion in front of them was short and a bit stocky, clearly not the most active. And it was easy to figure out why, seeing as he was leaning against a different section of fending with one of his legs lifted off the ground. His face was stuck in the grass, snuffling around idly for something to eat or maybe something to move around. Play with. 

“We’ve noticed that he doesn’t like moving around much. It’s almost certainly because of the bone spurs but watch out for any underlying issues as well.” Damien nodded at the advice, rolling up the papers and stuffing them in his pocket. The horse seemed rather agreeable, if perhaps a bit on the older side. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit disappointed in not getting a younger horse to train up and ride, though he was just grateful that this one didn’t want to bite him like the first makeover horse had. Breaker had been awfully temperamental... so this was a step in the correct direction. 

The volunteer handed him a rope halter, giving him a quick pat on the back before scampering back off to the office as another trailer pulled up. And then another. It would likely be getting busy soon, so he should probably get a move on with getting his new project out of the pasture and out of the way of less amicable horses. 

“Alright buddy, let’s get you out of here.” He planted his foot on the bottom rung of the fence and vaulting over, landing with a quiet huff. The stallion pricked up his ears a bit but overall didn’t seem too threatened. That was a good sign already, he was pretty desensitized to movement. Damien approached him slowly, though less warily than he would with an agressive or easily spooked horse. In fact, he rather quickly found himself right next to an almost uncaring paddock lump who seemed interested in nothing besides sniffing grass and occasionally wandering his muzzle up to the man’s pockets. 

“Funny little guy, aren’t you?” He chuckled, his worries easing a bit as the stallion let him slip the halter on with no problems. Whoever had trained him initially had done a good job, Damien couldn’t help but wonder what had gone wrong between then and now for the horse to go without treatment. It was odd for a horse to be so cared for and yet also somewhat neglected when it came to their care. He hummed in thought as he started pulling gently on the lead rope. 

That was wear the first issue started to show, though. Fort, as the man had dubbed him in his head, simply leaned forward with the lead rope, his back hoof still held in the air. It was like he didn’t want to move, instead leaning as far as he could without possibly aggravating his hocks. The man gave a slight click of his tongue, frowning. To be fair, he wouldn’t want to put weight on his foot if it hurt either, though that did make it all the more difficult to get him somewhere that he could receive treatment. 

“Okay... it’s okay, bud. Let’s just... do this slowly.” Damien sighed, tugging on the lead rope just a little bit more until Fort took one small step forward. He wasn’t fighting against the lead rope at all, but he definitely didn’t seem like he was in any sort of hurry to be moving. This... might take a while.