A foal called storm, p.1
A Foal Called Storm, page 1
For Greta, Arthur,
Polly and Betsy.
H. P.
For Clare x
E. S.
Where Have
You Come From?
“That was a massive storm last night,” said Jasmine to her sheepdog, as she clambered over a fallen tree branch. “Did the thunder scare you, Sky?”
Sky leapt over the branch and ran along the riverbank, wagging his fluffy tail. If he had been frightened by the thunder, he showed no sign of it this morning.
It was the Tuesday of the May half term. Jasmine had got up early, as usual, and had fed her other animals before walking Sky. She needed to be organised today, because she had two rabbits coming to stay for the rest of the week.
Jasmine sometimes looked after other people’s pets when they went on holiday. The money she made helped to pay for her animals’ food. It was also good experience, because she was planning to have an animal rescue centre and boarding kennels when she grew up.
They were almost back at the farmhouse when Jasmine heard a strange sound. Frowning in confusion, she stopped and listened.
The farm was full of noises: birds singing in the hedgerows; sheep baaing in the meadows; cockerels crowing in the yard.
But this was different. It was a high-pitched whinny. None of the animals on Oak Tree Farm sounded like that.
Jasmine walked past the farmhouse towards the field called the Sixteen Acres, where the sound seemed to have come from. There were no animals in there at the moment.
And then she stopped and stared in amazement.
Standing beside the hedge was a beautiful chestnut foal. It had a white blaze on its face and white socks on its hind legs. As Jasmine stared, it lifted its head and gave another high-pitched whinny.
What was a foal doing there?
Jasmine’s heart raced as the possibilities ran through her head. Her mum, Nadia, was a vet. Maybe she had brought the foal to the farm to recover after an illness or an operation. She had never done that before, but it was possible.
But if she had, then why hadn’t she mentioned it?
Suddenly a truly thrilling thought struck her.
What if the foal was a present? Might Mum and Dad actually have bought her a foal of her own?
Her excitement drained away as she considered this in more detail. She already had two cats, a pig, a duck, a sheepdog, a ram, a deer and a donkey. Apart from her cats, Toffee and Marmite, Jasmine had rescued all these animals. And always she had had to fight her parents in order to keep them. Every time, they reminded her how many animals she already had, how much they cost to feed, how much space they needed and how much time it took to look after them.
But Jasmine was an optimist. Although it was unlikely, it wasn’t impossible. She clipped Sky’s lead on and slowly approached the field.
The field gate was wide open, and suddenly Jasmine understood how ridiculous her hopes were. Even if her parents had bought her the foal, they certainly wouldn’t have left it alone in a field with the gate open.
So whose was it, and where had it come from?
As she drew closer, she saw that something was very wrong.
The foal was soaking wet. It must have been out in that terrible storm. It was shivering all over, which could have been from the cold, but looked more like fear. Its nostrils flared and quivered, and the whites of its eyes were showing. Its tail was clamped down against its body. Its ears swivelled rapidly, flickering back and forth, as though it was about to flee at any moment.
Jasmine stopped several metres away and spoke in a soft murmur, trying to soothe the little creature.
“What’s wrong, little foal? Are you lost?
Where’s your mum?”
The foal was beautiful, with big dark eyes, a dark mane and tail, and long legs. As Jasmine softly approached, it backed away, terrified. She noticed it was limping.
“Oh! You’re hurt!”
There was a nasty cut on the foal’s hind leg. The gaping wound looked fresh, and there was a lot of dried blood around it.
“You poor thing. What happened to you?”
The wound looked deep enough to need stitches. That was a job for Nadia, but she was out on an emergency call.
Jasmine thought quickly. An animal as nervous as this might bolt if anything startled it. She needed to keep the foal safe, but it was far too jumpy to let her approach it. She would just have to shut it in the field.
“I’m going to close this,” she said, as she walked slowly and quietly to the gate. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now. I’ll look after you.”
Jasmine had never cared for a foal before, but she had dealt with other frightened animals. She stood by the gate, speaking gently, trying to reassure the trembling creature.
“You’re a boy, aren’t you? I wonder what your name is. Do you even have a name? Are you an orphan? Are you hungry?”
If only Mum were here. But even if she were, she wouldn’t be able to treat the foal’s wound when he was this nervous. He would bolt if anyone went near him, and probably give himself another injury.
Suddenly Jasmine knew what she must do.
“I’ll fetch some hurdles and build you a pen. That’s what Mum does if she treats an animal in the field. And I’ll phone Tom to come and help. He’ll be so excited to meet you.”
She took Sky back to the house and phoned Tom. He was Jasmine’s best friend, and they had rescued many animals together. He lived very close to Oak Tree Farm, so he and Jasmine could walk to each other’s houses.
“That’s amazing,” he said. “I’ll come over straightaway.”
Jasmine fetched metal hurdles from the lambing barn and carried them to the field one by one. As she approached the gate, the foal backed away, trembling. His ears were pinned back. Jasmine knew, from experience with her donkey, that this was another sign of anxiety.
When she opened the gate, the foal cocked his hind hoof, preparing to kick.
“Thanks for the warning,” she said. “I’ll keep well away from your back legs.”
As she carried the last hurdle in, Tom walked into the field.
“He’s so beautiful!” he said. “I can’t believe he just turned up here.”
“I know. But he’s so scared, poor baby. Look how he’s shivering.”
“Do you think he ran away? How did he get that horrible cut?”
“I don’t know, but something bad has happened to him. He’s way too young to be away from his mum.”
“Have you phoned the police?”
Jasmine didn’t want to admit she hadn’t thought of this. “Mum will phone them when she gets home,” she said.
“Maybe he was abandoned,” said Tom. “Or stolen.”
“He can’t have been stolen. If he was, the thieves would have him, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t have left him here.”
“Unless he escaped,” said Tom.
While they constructed the pen, they talked softly to the foal, hoping to get him to relax and start to trust them.
“His coat’s a lovely colour,” said Tom. “I like his white socks, too.”
“And those cute little white markings on his forelegs,” said Jasmine, “just above his hooves.”
By the time they’d finished, the foal had stopped trembling, but his mouth was tight and pinched and his body was still rigid with stress.
“How are we going to get him into the pen?” Tom asked.
“I’m not sure. When Mum treats foals, she always gets their mother to lead them in. They follow their mums anywhere.”
“What about putting some food in there?”
“I don’t know what to give him,” said Jasmine. “He looks too young for solid food and I don’t know if it’s safe to give him cows’ milk.”
“Can you phone your mum?”
“Not really. She’s probably pulling a calf out of a cow right now.”
From the orchard came a loud braying sound. The little foal pricked up his ears.
Tom’s eyes widened. “What about Mistletoe?”
“To lead him into the pen?”
“Yes. Maybe the foal would follow him.”
Jasmine looked doubtful. “He’s not going to think Mistletoe’s his mum.”
“No, but horses and donkeys usually get on together, don’t they? Mr Hobson said people have donkeys as companions for their horses, and some people use them as babysitters for foals.”
Mr Hobson was Mistletoe’s previous owner, and he knew everything about donkeys.
“Well, if anyone can calm him down, it will be Mistletoe,” said Jasmine. “He’s the kindest donkey in the whole world.”
A Good Sign
Mistletoe was browsing in the orchard hedge with Jasmine’s pet deer, Dotty. Jasmine fetched his head collar and lead rope.
“Hello, Mistletoe,” she said. “There’s somebody we’d like you to meet.”
She held out the collar so the donkey could sniff it. He was used to wearing it, but it was good manners to warn him before she put it on.
Mistletoe was twenty years old, and very patient and calm. Jasmine had no worries about his behaviour, but she wasn’t sure how the foal would react to him.
When the foal saw Mistletoe approaching the field, he froze, staring at the small brown donkey. Mistletoe stared back. The foal lifted his head, gave a loud snort and shied away.
Jasmine and Tom exchanged worried glances.
“Should we take Mistletoe back to the orchard?” asked Tom.
But Jasmine was reluctant to give up so soon.
Mistletoe walked calmly into the field. He wasn’t looking at the foal, but Jasmine had learned to read the language of his ears. His left ear was trained on Jasmine, but his right ear was swivelling around in the direction of the foal.
The foal stood facing away from them. As Jasmine watched, he turned his head to look at Mistletoe.
“He’s curious,” she said. “That must be a good sign.”
“I guess we should give them time to get to know each other,” said Tom.
Jasmine unclipped Mistletoe’s lead rope and sat on the grassy bank at the edge of the field to watch the animals.
“He’s so gorgeous, isn’t he?” she said. “He’s got such a cute face, and such beautiful eyes.”
“We should give him a name,” said Tom. “Just for the time he’s with us, I mean. We can’t keep calling him ‘the foal’.”
“How about Storm?” Jasmine suggested. “He arrived in a storm, and he’s probably had a stormy life, poor little thing.”
“That suits him,” said Tom. “What do you think, Storm?”
Mistletoe looked towards the foal, who had walked further off and was facing the other way. Mistletoe stared at him for a few seconds and then wandered off in the opposite direction.
Storm turned to face Mistletoe. He stared at the donkey for several seconds. He took a few steps forward, then stopped and turned away.
Mistletoe turned to look at the foal again. He started to amble slowly towards him. He stopped several metres away and looked directly at him. Storm returned his look.
The two animals turned away from each other. Mistletoe walked some way off, but when he stopped, he looked towards the foal. Storm looked back at him.
“Aren’t Harry’s rabbits coming today?” asked Tom, sitting on the bank beside Jasmine. “Ugh, this grass is soaking.”
“Yes, he’s bringing them at eleven.”
“Have you told your parents they’re house rabbits yet?”
“Not exactly. Actually, I think they’ve forgotten they’re coming. I asked them ages ago, and I haven’t exactly reminded them.”
“They won’t mind, though, will they? They’re such cute rabbits. But you’ll have to keep the living-room door shut when they’re out of their hutch, in case the cats get in.”
“The cats aren’t allowed in the living room anyway,” said Jasmine, “after they scratched the furniture. Mum and Dad would be fine with the rabbits normally, but Aunty Evil’s coming today, and she hates animals.”
“Is she the one who said your cats should be put down?”
“Yes. She’s horrible. But she’s Dad’s aunty so he invites her to stay sometimes. I don’t know why he bothers; she spends the whole time moaning about everything.”
“Look,” said Tom, pointing at the animals.
Mistletoe was standing close to Storm. The little foal took a few tentative steps towards him. Then, to Jasmine’s delight, he walked right up to Mistletoe and sniffed his face. Mistletoe stood perfectly still while Storm sniffed around his mouth and nose.
Jasmine held her breath. This was a really important process. Animals got to know each other mainly by smell.
Mistletoe let Storm sniff him for a while, then turned and walked away. Storm stayed completely still, his big eyes fixed on the donkey.
A few minutes later, Mistletoe ambled back towards the foal. Storm sniffed his face again. This time, Mistletoe sniffed him in return. Once he had explored the foal’s face, he sniffed his mane, withers and back. Then he walked away. Storm followed him.
Mistletoe stood still and Storm moved away from him. Mistletoe broke into a trot. Storm watched him trotting around the edge of the field. Then he started limping after the donkey. Mistletoe turned around and trotted after Storm.
“Look!” exclaimed Jasmine. “They’re playing together! They must be making friends.”
The animals slowed to a walk, some distance apart from each other. Jasmine heard a vehicle pull into the farmyard.
“Oh, good, Mum’s back,” she said, walking to the gate.
But it wasn’t her mum’s car. It was a big shiny 4x4. The passenger door opened and Harry got out.
“Oh, no! They’re early. I won’t be able to warn Mum.”
“Maybe that’s better,” said Tom. “If the rabbits are already in the living room when Nadia gets back, she can’t really say no, can she?”
Buster and Daisy
Tom stayed with Mistletoe and Storm while Jasmine went to greet Harry.
“You must be Jasmine,” said Harry’s dad, who was lifting things out of the boot. “I’m Adam. I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of stuff. I hope you’ve got a big living room.”
“Quite big,” said Jasmine. Then she walked around to the back of the car and her mouth fell open in shock.
“It’s a two-tier hutch,” said Adam. “And these railings clip together to make the playpen.”
“Wow,” said Jasmine. “Where are the rabbits?”
Harry took a carrying case from the back seat. “Here.”
Having seen the vast two-storey cage and the huge number of playpen pieces, Jasmine expected the rabbits to be enormous. So she was surprised to find a pair of tiny little bunnies peering out at her. They had long floppy ears, fluffy golden fur, bright dark eyes and little twitching noses.
“Oh, they’re so cute! Are they babies?”
“No,” said Harry, “but miniature lops always look like babies.”
“They’re gorgeous. What are their names?”
“Buster and Daisy. They’re a boy and girl, but they’ve both been neutered.”
“Leave them in the car while we set everything up,” said Adam. “Where should we take the stuff, Jasmine?”
Jasmine picked up a stack of playpen segments. “I’ll show you.”
It took quite a long time to set it all up. The giant two-storey cage sat inside the playpen, which was three metres long, two metres wide and one metre high. It took up half the living room, so they had to move all the furniture into the other half. By the time they’d finished, there was barely room for a person to squeeze between the furniture.
Jasmine’s stomach squirmed as she looked at the rearranged room. It was great that the rabbits had so much space, but she wasn’t looking forward to the moment when her mum walked in.
After they had fetched the toys, tunnels, nesting boxes, water bottles, food, hay, rubber matting and litter tray, they went back to get the rabbits. Mum drove into the yard as Harry lifted the carrier out. Jasmine could tell from her puzzled face that she hadn’t remembered they were coming.
“Hello, Nadia,” said Adam. “Thanks so much for looking after the rabbits.”
Nadia’s face cleared. “Oh, you’re very welcome. Jasmine will do all the work, anyway.” She looked into the carrier. “What gorgeous little bunnies! Do you want a hand with their hutch?”
“No, everything’s done. Jasmine’s been very helpful.”
“Great,” said Nadia, taking two bags of shopping from the car. “I would invite you in, but Michael’s aunt’s arriving any minute and I haven’t tidied up yet. She’s very particular about tidiness, and our house is a terrible disappointment to her.”
“I hope she won’t mind the rabbits,” said Adam.
“Oh, no, it’s fine. She probably won’t even see them. She doesn’t go outdoors much.”
“Oh, but they’re—”
“I’ll take the rabbits, shall I?” said Jasmine, almost snatching the carrier from Harry. “Thank you so much. Have a lovely holiday.”
“Lovely to see you,” said Nadia, hurrying indoors with the shopping.
Adam gave Jasmine a quizzical look. “Your mum does know they’re house rabbits, doesn’t she?”
“She probably just forgot,” said Jasmine. “She’s quite forgetful.”
She waved them off and took the rabbits indoors. Hopefully Mum wouldn’t come into the living room for a while.
Jasmine carefully lifted Daisy out of the case. “You’re so warm and soft,” she said, stroking her golden fur and floppy ears. “I’ll pop you in the hutch, and you can explore when you’re ready.”
