Live and Let Growl by Laurien Berenson Read Free Book Online Page A

bone. She glanced up, flicked her tail up and down in acknowledgment, then went back to work. She’d be fine on her own until we returned.
    â€œDo you mind riding in a truck?” Erin asked. “It’ll be easier if I drive. You can leave your car here and I’ll bring you back when we’re finished.”
    â€œYoung lady, I have ridden in far worse conveyances than this one.” Aunt Peg appropriated the front seat and left me to scramble into the back. “This will do just fine.”
    â€œWe’re on our way to the broodmare division,” Erin said as she pulled the pickup back onto the driveway. Another gate separated the barns from the front buildings. Like the one at the road, it opened when we idled in front of it. “Lucky Luna hasn’t foaled yet this year. I assume you know that?”
    Aunt Peg nodded.
    â€œShe’s due on April fourteenth, but that’s an estimate not an exact date. Normal gestation time varies a great deal in broodmares.”
    â€œThe same is true in dogs,” Aunt Peg said.
    â€œOh?” Erin glanced over. “Do you have many dogs?”
    â€œI have bred and shown Standard Poodles for many years,” Aunt Peg told her. “I gather that’s why Anthony Stone bequeathed Lucky Luna to me.”
    â€œI didn’t know Mr. Stone,” Erin told us. “All I know is that he owned a lovely mare. I work with lots of broodmares and Lucky Luna is one of my favorites. I’m sure you’ll like her.”
    She guided the truck into an empty space beside a big, U-shaped, cream-colored barn. Large stalls, lushly bedded with straw, had doors that opened into the interior of the barn and big open windows that faced the outside. Most of the stalls appeared to be empty.
    â€œAll of our horses spend as much time outside as possible,” Erin said as she jumped down from her seat. “That’s the way horses would live in nature and it’s much healthier for them. The rest of the broodmares in this barn are turned out now. But of course we knew you were coming, so we kept Lucky Luna up. Here she comes now with Sergio.”
    In the time it had taken us to cross a small path and walk into the barn’s wide courtyard, word that we’d arrived had already preceded us. A groom, neatly attired in an outfit that mirrored Erin’s, was coming toward us leading a tall bay mare from the other end of the shed row.
    Even from a distance, it was easy to see that the mare was in foal. Her wide, rounded belly extended outward on either side of her body and swayed slightly as she walked. Lucky Luna had a big white star on her red-brown face and a kind look in her dark eyes. Those two facts, both evident at first glance, comprised the entire extent of my equine knowledge.
    â€œOh, she is pretty,” Aunt Peg said as Sergio and Lucky Luna drew near. “And big, too.”
    â€œSixteen one,” Erin told us. Seeing my blank look, she added. “Horses are measured in hands, and a hand equals four inches. So Lucky Luna is sixty-five inches at the withers.” She approached the mare and brushed a spot at the base of Lucky Luna’s neck with her fingertips. “That would be here.”
    I nodded and tried to look more knowledgeable than I was. I don’t think I had anybody fooled, least of all Lucky Luna.
    The mare regarded me with a look of benign indifference as Sergio brought her around and posed her so her left side was facing us. He stopped Lucky Luna in place, and rocked her back and forth gently, until he was satisfied with the position of her feet. Then he stepped back out of the way to let us admire her.
    â€œNot unlike stacking a Poodle,” said Aunt Peg. Having watched the exercise with interest she sounded pleased.
    â€œStacking?” Erin repeated.
    â€œPositioning the legs just so,” I told her. “So that they can optimally be seen by a judge at a dog show. Show dogs learn to take a