澳门太阳登录网站2007-大阳集团娱乐网址

澳门太阳集团8722

The Sacred Book of the Werewolf Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels #1)

I tensed, sensing judgment. I know it was horrible to do that to him.

Hester looks skeptical but cuts short the discussion when his horse starts to flop down in the road. He runs to the back of his Ford and grabs the rope. No, you don’t, Star. On your feet! She tries to do that, he explains, whenever I stop.I meander over and touch the big animal’s nose, but she whinnies and turns away. She’s a beautiful horse, brown with a blaze on her forehead. Is something wrong with her?

Savage Awakening (Alpha Pack #2)

She’s Mrs. Dresher’s horse; the farmer with the dog that had puppies. She has founder, a disease of the hooves. The other name is laminitis. He waits to see if I know what that means, but I shrug. Causes the hooves to become deformed, very painful and hard to cure. The old man wanted me to put her down this morning, but I couldn’t do it. I asked if I could have her instead. See if I could bring her back to health.Hester bends down and picks up one of Star’s front hooves. I’ve never seen the bottom of a horse’s foot before, and I’m almost sick when I see the blood and what looks like bone sticking through. As a midwife, most things don’t bother me, but this gives me shivers.Yuck. I wrinkle my face. How did this happen? Bitsy is silent, leaning over my shoulder.

Firestorm (Weather Warden #5)

Well, we aren’t sure. Star had lameness last year, but I wasn’t called in. Since money is so tight, most of the farmers, even the well-to-do ones, don’t call me unless they think the situation’s critical. After a week the limp went away. Then, a few days ago, she got into the cattle’s grain.I guess that was it. An overrich diet can cause the horse’s gut to release toxins that go into the bloodstream and eventually settle in the hoof, resulting in an abscess. The same thing can happen after a retained placenta, but this animal hasn’t been bred for years . . . Cushing’s disease can cause it too, but that’s more chronic than acute. I’m mildly interested, but Bitsy has gone back to the garden. The point is, the condition is severely painful and usually a death sentence, but I thought of you.

Yeah. If you and Bitsy have the time, I think we can turn this around and then you’d have a good horse. You need one, don’t you?

I watch as the mare staggers back and forth on her front hooves, rolling her eyes in pain. I know nothing about horses, and I doubt that Bitsy does either.Mr. Ott looks puzzled. I don’t really know. Not close yet.

Bitsy is already getting the birth satchel. I run upstairs, pull on a dress, and tell her to change too. Then we bundle up and head for the auto.Your girl coming? Mr. Ott asks as he cranks up the engine.

Gregor and the Code of Claw (Underland Chronicles #5)

She isn’t my girl, I start to say but bite my tongue. No use getting hostile. Bitsy is my birth assistant. She comes to all my deliveries.The ride into town is uneventful; no traffic, no other autos. As we cross the bridge over the Hope, I note that the ice is breaking up. Below us, huge chunks pile up, then fall apart and race each other around rocks that stick up like teeth.

The Otts’ two-story brick home, with white trim like a gingerbread house, looks inside about how I remember it. White doilies are draped over everything: the arms of the chairs, the back of the sofa, and all the shiny mahogany tables. Though I know the couple has a four-year-old daughter, I don’t see a sign of a child or a toy anywhere, and I imagine she’s been sent away to her grandmother’s.Upstairs I hear arguing, and I don’t wait for an invitation. I take the stairs in the front hall two at a time.

Hi, I say pleasantly to Prudy and the other women huddled with her in the master bedroom. Mrs. Wade, who attended one of the births I did with Mrs. Kelly, fancies herself useful but only gets in the way. Priscilla Blum, the town doctor’s wife, tells us she’s Mrs. Ott’s best friend. I’m surprised to see Becky sitting in a rocking chair in the corner, twisting her handkerchief. I smile, but her face is creased with worry and she doesn’t smile back.I tell you, you’d be better off resting! This baby won’t come till after midnight! exhorts the Wade woman. She looks at me, expecting support, but I’m mum, wanting first to get the lay of the land. Mrs. Wade rolls her eyes.

How are you doing? I ask Prudy. She is wearing a blue chenille bathrobe, and her shoulder-length dark hair is disheveled and stringy.Oh, not good. Not good at all, Patience. I don’t know what to do! There’s never a break! When I lie down, my back hurts. When I stand up, the pains come closer . . . Oh, what should I do? Help me!

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