CHAPTER 7

A massive low-pressure system had come in off the Pacific Ocean and stretched from just above Arroyo Grande, California, up to Beaver, Oregon. It moved onshore slowly, dumping several inches of rain on the coast, causing massive mudslides and flash flooding in its wake before laboriously making its way inland. It moved so slowly and was so large that it took nearly four days for the leading edge to get over Nevada, while at the same time still dumping rain on the coast of California. Days later, a high-pressure system began building in behind the storm over the Pacific and pushed the behemoth eastward. By the time the storm marched over the Rockies and out onto the plains, it had dumped over eight inches of much needed moisture in the drought-stricken west.

The seven days of rain brought life back to the valley with the river running through it. A little at a time, grass began to grow, sagebrush and bushes began to green up and wildflowers were sprouting everywhere. By the time the rain stopped and the sun returned, the valley was well on its way to recovery, and the gray colt was recovering, too.

The blood that had mixed with red dirt and had dried and caked on his coat had all but washed away. The eggs the flies had laid in his open wounds had hatched into maggots, and the maggots had been feeding on any rotting flesh that developed, leaving the healthy tissue and keeping the colt free of infection. Having successfully completed their job, they too, had been washed away during the unrelenting downpour. To help relieve some of the pain in his legs, the colt had taken to standing for hours on end in the coolness of the now knee-deep river, grazing on the grass that was sprouting in abundance along the bank. The water calmed him, and there were times he would completely submerge himself in the river, often leaving only his eyes, nostrils and ears exposed. This submersion was also something he did when the insects, which were also in abundance now, would bother him too much.

After several weeks of recuperation along the riverbank, most of the colt’s injuries were healing nicely. Even the worst cuts and gashes had granulated in and begun to close. However, one injury that wasn’t making much progress was his right shoulder, the one the stallion had kicked, and the one he had landed on while tumbling down the slope. It still had severe pain and swelling, particularly up high near his withers and into his neck. The pain was so bad it caused him to limp when he moved, and made it difficult for him to turn his head and neck to the right or to get his head down to graze or drink for any length of time. It didn’t stop him from grazing or drinking, but he would have to bring his head up after only a few minutes of doing either to relieve the pain before putting his head down and resuming.