Cat of the Century Read Free Page B

chemistry and other science courses, then applied to Cornell. She was accepted as the only woman in her class, and when she moved back to Virginia, she was the only woman equine vet in the state. The gods gave her a great gift. She could see what other vets who lacked a feeling for horses couldn’t. There were those who thought Inez could read a horse’s mind. Within ten years,she was envied by some while others felt only pure jealousy. Many, however, admired her. She was considered one of the best equine vets in Virginia. By the time she was fifty, she was thought to be one of the best in the nation.
    When Fair did his residency, he was accepted by Inez. Her practice included the counties just west of Richmond. She specialized in equine reproduction. Fair was her understudy. She always bragged about him, saying he wasn’t only her handsomest understudy but her best. He, too, had a feeling for horses, learning to trust his instincts as much as if not more than technology.
    When his term of residency ended, Fair established a clinic in Crozet, Virginia, his hometown, thereby diving into vats of debt. Inez threw him as much business as she could from Louisa County, her westernmost territory. She began dragging him along to conferences. Her luster rubbed off on him. He was damned good, too.
    “Surely you have a scrap of fat on that plate?”
Pewter stood on her hind legs to pat Fair’s thigh with her front paw.
    Fair cast his blue eyes down at the rotund kitty. “I’d be ashamed to be that fat.”
    Nonetheless, he tossed her a fat scrap, along with one each to Mrs. Murphy and Tucker.
    Pewter let the insult pass. The tidbit was too good.
    “I’m glad you could make it home for supper.”
    “Feels like it’s been weeks.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair.
    “It has.”
    Foaling season started in January, especially for the Thoroughbreds, but it continued for other breeds into April. Occasionally, a late foal would even be born in June. Like humans, foals arrived on their own timetable, which always seemed to be in the middle of the night. Fair had learned to snatch sleep when he could. He could even sleep standing up.
    Ninety-nine percent of the time, the baby entered this world healthy. Occasionally, there would be birth defects. Some could be corrected with surgery, but others were hopeless and the animal had to be humanely destroyed. Sometimes the problem was with the mother.Fortunately, this foaling season had been very good, with few miseries, and tonight Fair had made it home early. With luck, he might even sleep for seven hours.
    “Thought I’d take the dually to Fulton. Sucks gas, but I think that long a trip might be asking too much of the ’78.”
    “How long is it?” He smiled as Pewter, happy, flopped at Harry’s side.
    “Sixteen hours. I can do it in less if I’m vigilant. But I think I’ll take two days and stop in Kentucky to see Joan and Larry.” She mentioned two dear friends. Joan Hamilton owned Kalarama Farm, where she bred Saddlebreds; Larry Hodge, her husband, trained them and other people’s horses for showing. He owned a separate place, Simmstown, which he rented out. He was also an auctioneer, having a real flair for it. They were one of those great teams like Abbott and Costello or Fred and Ginger.
    “Bring pictures of Shortro.”
    Harry nodded. Shortro had been given to her by a client of Joan’s. He was a gray Saddlebred and was just turning four. He was smart, kind, and eager to learn, and Harry had fallen in love with the fellow.
    Fair reached for his beer, glancing out the kitchen window. “Winter won’t give up.”
    “Don’t I know it. But the snowdrops are showing their little heads. Soon my crocus shoots will pop up. Sooner or later, winter will release his grip.”
    “I love a good snow, but by March I’m ready for the change, as is everyone.” He paused. “The dually. No, honey, don’t take it. It’s a great truck, mind you, but you don’t want to drive