Dr. Horse
Admiral Biscuit
Buddy and Silver Spoon were playing in the backyard when it happened, tossing a frisbee back and forth. Buddy seemed to enjoy the sport, and she didn't mind, even if Diamond Tiara said physical activity was for lowborn ponies—but Diamond Tiara wasn't there, and Silver Spoon was having lots of fun with her pet.
She put some extra swing in her neck, and sent the frisbee on a long arc across her backyard, past the flower garden and the small vegetable garden that she'd planted in the spring. That was another thing that DT didn't know about. Silver had claimed that her Mom had made her do it, but in reality, she'd felt the impulse to dig it herself, and every day after school, she carefully weeded and watched the progress of her crops.
Buddy was laughing and giggling in his strange language when he suddenly stumbled and crashed to the ground. At first, she had no cause for alarm—with his bipedal stance, Buddy fell over a lot—but as he tried to struggle to his feet, he gave off an anguished cry and collapsed again.
All thoughts of their game forgotten, Silver Spoon galloped over to him to see what was the matter. As she ran, he struggled to sit up, bracing his arms behind him.
He was sitting beyond a chuckhole in the yard, a fan of dirt sprayed out from where he'd fallen. His hands were wrapped around his right leg, which was bent at a very unnatural angle below the knee.
I think that's broken, Silver thought, fighting down a wave of nausea. Don't panic—Miss Cheerilee said that when somepony is hurt, we should make her comfortable and then get an adult to help. “Stay there, Buddy,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “I'll get Mom and we'll get you fixed up, you'll see.”
She gave him a reassuring nuzzle, her heart sinking at the feel of tears coursing down his cheek. She didn't want to leave him like this—he'd think she was abandoning him—but she couldn't just wait until Mom came out and called her in for dinner, either. That might be hours.
“Mom! Mooooom!” Silver galloped across the yard as fast as her legs could carry her, not even slowing as her glasses bounced off her muzzle and tumbled into the yard. She could get those later; she could see well enough to find Mom.
She vaulted up the side steps, barely slowed on the mat in the vestibule, and rushed along the hallway, paying no mind to the muddy hoofprints she left behind. “Moooom!”
“What is it, dear?”
Silver flicked her ears, and rushed for the kitchen. “Mom, Buddy fell down in the yard and he's hurt.”
“Honestly, how many—“ Silver's Mom bit her tongue as she felt her youngest daughter wrap her in a tight embrace. She abandoned the salad she was making and leaned down to nuzzle the top of her daughter’s head. “How bad is it?”
“I think . . . I think his leg. . .” Silver Spoon fought back a sniffle. She didn't want to say it; saying it made it true. But if she didn't, then Mom might not think it was as serious as it actually was. “Is broken,” she said softly.
Her Mom sucked in a breath. “Okay. We'll have to get him to Doctor Horse. I'll get a couple of unicorns to help load him in Noteworthy's wagon. You're going to need to stay with him—can you do that? Take a blanket and some treats, try to make him as comfortable as you can. Don't move him, and don't let him move himself. And hurry—he might already be trying to crawl back to the house. He won't know any better.”
Silver nodded resolutely. She quickly gathered the wool blanket off Buddy's bed, and a bag of dried fish strips. They smelled disgusting, but Buddy really liked them. A small smile played at the corner of her lips—she'd once caught her big sister eating one after a miserable day on weather patrol.
Buddy was right where she'd left him. He turned his head as he heard her approach, and said something in his weird guttural voice.
“It's okay,” she told him, spreading the blanket over him. He got cold much more easily than a pony, especially when he wasn't being active. “Mom's getting help. Everything's going to be okay.” She nuzzled him, and he reached a hand up to stroke her mane. “I—I brought some of your favorite treats, see? You—you can have the whole bag.” She set it down on his chest, and he looked at them curiously, but then turned his attention back to her.
“No!” Tears started flowing from her eyes. If Buddy wouldn't eat his favorite treats . . . desperately, she reached into the bag and took one out, grimacing at the salty oily taste on her lips, and shoved it into his mouth. His eyes widened, but he finally accepted the treat. Silver collapsed on his chest.
Her tears had finally abated by the time Noteworthy maneuvered his wagon next to Buddy. Silver moved into her mother's comforting embrace as a pair of unicorn mares gently lifted Buddy into the wagon.
“I can carry you,” her mother said, kneeling down in the grass beside Silver. The filly nodded and
carefully climbed onto her back, wrapped her forelegs around her neck, and buried her face in her mother's carefully coiffed mane.
The procession moved slowly through the streets of Ponyville, so not to jostle the wagon too much, but Silver still heard Buddy occasionally cry out. We'll be there soon and the doctor will fix it and soon this will all be a memory.
The unicorns helped carry Buddy through a door and into an examining room, while Noteworthy stayed outside. While her Mom talked to the nurse, Silver climbed up on the table and started grooming Buddy's mane.
“What's his name,” Dr. Horse said cheerfully as he came into the room.
“Buddy. It's Buddy.”
“That's a good name.” The veterinarian looked down at him. “I'm going to give you a little shot that will make the pain go away, okay Buddy? You're going to feel a lot better here in a couple of minutes.” He lifted a syringe, and Buddy promptly shifted away, holding out an arm to ward off the needle.
“It's okay, Buddy, the vet is going to make you feel better.” Silver patted his chest with a hoof. “Like he did when you ate too much rhubarb, remember that? He made you all better again.”
Buddy relaxed his arm and the doctor moved in for the shot. Buddy grunted and squeezed Silver's hoof, but he didn't flail around. Dr. Horse pulled the blanket off his legs and took a careful look at them, very gently reaching out with his magic.
“You stay with him,” the veterinarian said. “He wants to see a familiar face. I need to talk to your mother.”
Silver nodded, and the adults stepped out of the room. She kept her eyes on Buddy. She could tell when the medicine started working; the tight lines on his face relaxed, and he reached for another treat. She gently stroked a hoof over his chest and nuzzled his face. He'd get better soon; the vet would fix him and then they'd be able to play in the backyard like they did before.
She looked up hopefully as the two came back into the room. “I'm sorry,” the veterinarian said. “But the most humane thing we can do is euthanize him.”
“Euthanize?”
“Put him to sleep,” her Mom chimed in.
“But—but Snips broke his hind leg last year, and the doctor made it better,” Silver protested.
“A human isn't a pony,” Dr. Horse said quietly. “He's a biped, so he can't walk with one leg broken. A pony can walk on only three legs.”
“He could rest until it got better.”
“No, honey. Remember how long Snips was in a cast? He'd be too weak by the end of his convalescence to ever really recover, and he'd be in constant pain whenever he tried to walk. It's more merciful this way.”
“He won't feel a thing,” the veterinarian assured her. “He'll just go to sleep and never wake up again. It's very kind—it's the kindest thing to do.”
Silver blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked down at Buddy. He knew something was wrong—he was gripping one of her hooves tightly. Silver kissed his cheek, and whispered, “It's okay, Buddy. The vet's going to give you one more shot, and then you won't feel any more pain.” I'm a big filly now, and being a big filly means sometimes making choices I don't want to have to make. I have to do the right thing even when it hurts.
“I don't want him to suffer,” she said.
“He won't,” Dr. Horse assured her.
She held him in a tender embrace until it was over. It felt so quick, but when they loaded his body back into the wagon, she was surprised at how dark it was outside.
They buried him under the maple tree in the backyard, digging the grave by lantern light. It had always been his cherished spot. Silver Spoon threw the frisbee in with him—it was one of his favorite toys.
Silverspeed prepared dinner, and they ate outside in silence. Her mother even poured her a glass of wine, and she made a face at the bittersweet taste but drank it anyway. She stayed outside while her mother and sister cleared the table, a second glass of wine cradled in her hooves.
She just looked at the fresh patch of disturbed earth. It was shockingly out of place in the yard, and it needed something to cover it. Tomorrow she wouldn't go to school; she'd go to Rose's and get some nice flowers to plant, and maybe she'd spend some bits at the stoncutter's for a marker with his name on it.
Author's Note
A One-Shot-Ober story.
Silverspeed as Silver Spoon's older sister is a reference to Re-Looting by Suri Polomare.
