Winning Ways Read Online Free PDF Page A

tack, magazines, dog beds, and a dingy overstuffed couch where several cats dozed.
    Marilyn dropped into a worn recliner, and Liz eased onto a bare spot on the couch next to a fat tabby that angrily twitched its tail at being disturbed. While Marilyn sifted through large piles of papers on the coffee table, Liz's gaze moved around the room. One wall displayed dozens of photographs of horses at shows, horses in pastures, horses with riders or being driven. Dusty trophies, platters, bowls, and loving cups covered the surface of a card table in the corner - a lifetime of accomplishment.
    "It looks like you were pretty successful in the ring."
    Marilyn glanced up and waved her cigarette dismissively.
    "Oh, that stuff. Did that when I was young and had some help. Now I don't even polish 'em." She shoved a folder across the table. "Here's some snapshots of the horses I have for sale. I hate to get rid of 'em, but I gotta...I'm too old, they're too much work."
    Liz looked through the photographs, disappointment filling her thoughts as she glanced at the pedigrees. Good, but not spectacular. Nuts! How can I diplomatically tell her that the horses aren't good enough, then turn around and ask for her vet custom?
    "Uh, Marilyn, they're very nice, but, you know, I don't think photographs do a horse justice. Could I take a look at the mares?" Dammit! Quit beating around the bush. The pedigrees won't improve by the time you get to the barn.
    "Sure, honey. Mind the dogs, they'll go off again."
    Following Marilyn, and trying to dodge the clouds of cigarette smoke that trailed behind, Liz pondered a way to get to the main reason for the visit. Maybe I can take a quick look to be polite, and then tell her I'm not quite ready, that I'm still in the browsing stage.
    When they reached the barn door, Liz pulled out a business card and plunged in.
    "How many horses do you have?"
    "Nine...about eight too many."
    Liz offered the card. "I'd like the chance to care for your stock."
    Marilyn dropped the cigarette, and ground it out, then looked at the card.
    "So you're the new doc. Nobody told me it was a gal, but that's even better. It's about time the old coot got some real help!"
     
    The inside of the barn was as messy as the house. Neglect and carelessness. A disaster waiting to happen. The floor hadn't been swept in at least a week. Two broken bales of straw littered the aisle, aided by the draft that swirled through the barn from open doors and windows. Liz glimpsed masses of cobwebs draped through the rafters, frosted with dust and speckled with pieces of straw. A serious fire hazard. Her heart thudded and she pushed the horrible thought away.
    Marilyn opened a stall door at the end of the aisle.
    "Come on down here. This here's my pride and joy, Miss Marcy." Marilyn smiled proudly as she pointed at the animal. "She's half Egyptian an' half Polish. That's a very popular combination, y'know."
    Liz stepped forward to get a better look into the dimly lit stall. Her heart sank. At least nineteen years old, Miss Marcy had seen better days. Significantly underweight, the mare's hip bones stuck out and her ribs were visible beneath a dull, white coat. Her eyes held no luster or fire, and her ears drooped. The poor old thing looked as though she hadn't been groomed in months. Liz's eyes burned. How can anyone treat these animals this way?
    "Her sway-back is 'cause she's had eleven foals. Did you look at her pedigree?"
    Liz smothered a sigh. "Marilyn, she's nice, but too old for my herd. I need young broodmares."
    She started edging toward the door and her freedom.
    Marilyn's tone sounded cross. "Well, you could go on down the road to Aliqua Arabians. They've got dozens of horses - not all that great, but they're young."
    Liz was dismayed at how badly she'd botched the visit. As they walked toward the house, Marilyn hurried to end the visit.
    "They're in El Dorado, not far. Owner's name is Eve." She opened the screen door and looked back.
    "I'll give a