By E.P. Lande

Over the years, we have agreed to stable other peoples’ horses, generally horses belonging to those working for us, or horse owners we know who are in need of temporary boarding, as we operate the farm for our personal enjoyment. The priority has been — and always will be — our horses, but when we have an empty stall and pasture, we willingly consider such requests.

Beatrice first asked Peg — our horse transporter — if Peg would board her daughter’s horse, Duke. While Peg operated a commercial stable as well as a transport service, she refused…even though, at the time, she had a vacant stall. 

Neither José nor I knew Beatrice, but a good friend asked us to help her, as Beatrice’s teenage daughter — Donna — had been told to leave the facility where they were stabling Duke. We agreed, without asking the reason for Donna having been asked to leave the boarding stable, believing it to be a touchy subject.

When Peg found out, she told us that both Beatrice and Donna were “bad news”, that we shouldn’t’ve agreed, raising a bright red flag, but we were doing a good friend a favor…and it was only for four months.

José gave Beatrice a great deal: $600 a month, though the going rate for a full-service stall was closer to $1,000 as hay and wood shavings alone cost $450 per month per horse; either Beatrice or Donna was to help José Sundays, our stable helper’s day off; and they were also responsible for picking up the manure in Duke’s pasture, daily.

Donna — driven to our place by Beatrice as she was too young to drive — came to ride after school, close to 5:00, finishing between 6:00 and 6:15. 

Immediately after Donna led Duke to the arena where she would jump him for an hour, Pietro — our stable helper — would feed our horses their grain and prepare Duke’s grain, for Donna give to him after her ride. Horses become accustomed to their routines, and when Donna arrived late on numerous occasions without phoning to let us know, our horses would kick their stall doors, demanding their grain.

Opening the stable sliding door after her ride, Donna would bring Duke to the cross-tie to have Pietro — who, having nothing more to do, would be in his apartment attached to the stable — brush him and pick his hooves. Donna — on her iPhone, waiting — would then bring Duke to his stall and give him his grain, rarely waiting until the horse had finished, leaving with Beatrice while Pietro cleaned Duke’s grain container and sweep the floor where Duke had been groomed. Donna never offered to help.

“Why don’t you ask Donna to come and ride earlier?” I suggested to José. “Her school gets out at 3:00; she could easily be here by 4:00.”

“I did,” José said.

“And…?”

“Beatrice told me that Donna likes to hang out with her friends after school and she doesn’t want to interrupt Donna’s routine….”

“But she can interfere with ours — not to mention our horses’,” I said. “And don’t you think she should sweep the floor after Duke’s been groomed? She expects Pietro to, as though he was her personal assistant.”

Sometimes Donna arrived after 5:00, meaning Pietro would have to remain on duty until they left, around 6:30. 

While Beatrice helped José Sundays — Pietro’s day off — she always arrived between 30 minutes and an hour late, in time to help clean the stalls but not in time to help feed the horses and take them to their pastures.

“Instead of stopping at Starbucks and bringing you a coffee — which you throw in the trash as you only drink fresh espresso —, why don’t you tell Beatrice to skip the coffee and come here on time?” I suggested to José who complained to me about Beatrice’s habit every Sunday.

“While it’s annoying….”

“Annoying? José it’s rude. It’s as though she feels self-important.”

“Aaron, it’s only for three more months.”

As it was winter, there were nights when the temperature in the stable dipped below 20 degrees.

“Beatrice, do you have a heavier blanket for Duke?” José asked.

“We don’t, but I’ll order one,” Beatrice told José — but she never did. Instead, José instructed Pietro to blanket Duke with one that we weren’t using.

It was the same story at the end of winter, when the weather became warmer and it rained.

“Beatrice, where is Duke’s rain sheet?” José asked.

“Oh, Duke doesn’t need one,” she told José. “Just put him in his pasture. If he gets wet, Pietro will dry him when he brings him back to the stable.”

As we treat our horses differently, José told Pietro to put one of our extra rain sheets on Duke.

“But what’s this about Pietro drying off Duke? Isn’t Donna supposed to groom her horse?” I asked José.

“From what I’ve seen, she’s too busy on Instagram to pay much attention to Duke. I’ve watched her leading him to — and back from — the arena, holding his lead rope in one hand and her open iPhone, in the other. She knows as much about horsemanship….”

“…as I do,” I added…and we both laughed.

“Can you pick up carrots and several bags of probiotic cookies when you go to town?” José asked.

“I just bought both, not three days ago,” I informed him.

“Yeah, but Donna’s been feeding them to Duke….”

“Then, she should replace what she’s used.”

“I hinted that when I found a plastic bag containing one carrot in the ‘fridge.”

“And, what did she say?”

“She said she forgot to throw it in the trash…and walked out of the stable.”

Every day, while Donna rode, Beatrice was supposed to take one of the wheelbarrows and pick up the manure in Duke’s pasture. Pietro did this in the other pastures used by our horses. It was one of José rules, like sweeping the stable floors twice daily and never leaving any manure or urine amongst the wood shavings in the horse stalls — unlike the habit in other stables.

“She hasn’t been consistently picking up the manure in Duke’s pasture…and Donna never does when her grandmother brings her,” José told me.

“This is getting to be irritating, José. We agreed to stable Duke, even though we were warned not to, and you gave Beatrice a great deal — she’s always late with the cheque — and now you tell me neither she nor Donna is consistent in cleaning up the manure in Duke’s pasture….”

“…Especially when the grandmother brings her,” José added.

“Donna should clean Duke’s pasture when she comes with her grandmother. Instead of spending time in Instagram, she could pick up the shit.” It was exasperating. Our boarder had already upset the routine of our horses and of Pietro and now was not fulfilling her obligations.

“It’s only for two more months,” José said. “I’ll let it go….”

“But tell Beatrice she has to pick up Duke’s pasture manure; that’s not Pietro’s job.”

There were Sundays — not many, but a few — when Beatrice would call that she wouldn’t be able to help José.

“Since when do hospitals operate on Sunday?” I asked when Beatrice called to tell José that she couldn’t come as her mother was having an operation.

There were days when Donna didn’t feel like jumping Duke in the arena, could she take Duke on a trail ride?

“Stay on the trail that circles the lake,” José told her, “… and don’t take him on the upper trials as they are still too wet and you’ll make a muddy mess.”

Concerned, as Donna hadn’t returned to the stable after two hours, José suggested to Beatrice — who was, this time, cleaning Duke’s pasture — that he take our RV and find out what was taking Donna so long.

“I’ll check the GPS on my iPhone,” Beatrice told him. “That how I locate her.” A minute later she handed her phone to José, telling him “She’s still on your trail.”

“She’s on one of the upper trails where I told her not to go as she’ll cause a muddy mess,” José spat out.

“It’ll dry out in the spring,” Beatrice told him.

“I thought the mother was different,” I said to José that evening, “…but they’re the same.”

“It’s more than being inconsiderate, Aaron; they have a feeling of entitlement,” José said. “Peg was right when she advised me not to board Duke….”

“And, that’s probably why Donna was asked to leave the other stable. Let’s try to move on; they’ll be gone in two weeks,” I told him.

“But until then I have to put up with them being here….”

The following day José returned to the stable, mad.

“They broke the pitchfork,” he said, handing me the pitchfork missing two of its plastic tines.

“Perhaps Pietro broke it; have you asked him?”

“Yes, and he told me he hadn’t used it all week, that it wasn’t missing the tines when he last used it.”

“I know you’ll tell me it’s being petty….”

“This time I’m going to confront Beatrice. If she broke it, I’ll ask her to replace it.”

It took Beatrice four days to replace the broken pitchfork — not with one from Tractor Supply, but one from their home, “As we weren’t using it,” she told José.

The day arrived when Duke was to be transported to the stable where he usually boarded, summers. Beatrice gathered his belongings — including the heavier blanket that we had loaned him for cold winter nights….

“I told Beatrice she could keep it,” José told me when I questioned him. “I did it for the horse, not for Beatrice or Donna.”

As we were talking at the entry of the stable, Beatrice was coming out of the arena. When she saw us, she turned suddenly, her back to us.

“I think she has the pitchfork,” José observed.

“Hadn’t she given it to us, to replace the one she broke?” I asked.

Beatrice didn’t approach but moved farther away, obviously to avoid meeting us. At the end of the day, after they had left with Duke in their trailer, José went to the arena to clean as it was Sunday, Pietro’s day off.

“You’ll never guess,” he said later. “I was right….”

“About…?”

“She had the pitchfork when we saw her earlier. She turned so that we wouldn’t see that she had it in her hands. That b—h took the pitchfork back with her.”

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E.P. Lande, born in Montreal, lived in the south of France and now, in Vermont, writing and caring for more than 100 animals. Previously, as Vice-Dean, he taught at l’Université d’Ottawa. He has owned and managed country inns and restaurants. Since submitting less than three years ago, more than 100 of his stories and poems have found homes in publications all over the world. His story “Expecting” has been nominated for Best of the Net. His debut novel, “Aaron’s Odyssey”, a gay-romantic-psychological thriller, has recently been published in London. “To Have It All”, a psychotic thriller, will be published this year.