Percy Plumb, Cowboy

PART TWO

Percy Plumb has always wanted to be a cowboy like his great-uncle Radcliffe. He loves stories about the Old West and wranglers named Dusty and Smokey Joe. He daydreams about riding the range on a flashy pinto with one blue eye and one brown eye, or maybe a quick, coal-black mustang.

Instead of a cowpoke, though, he’s a librarian in the town of Mayfair, which boasts a broad green park, a Main Street of shops and cafés, and one remaining farm: Treadwell’s Dairy with its pastures of spotted cows.

One day Miss Peabody from the Humane Society posts a flier in the library. “WANTED: A Loving Home for Bob,” reads the poster. Percy peers at the photo of a horse who has gotten his face too close to the camera. His nose looks very large, and on that nose is a big white spot like a headlight. Percy’s thoughts begin to dwell less on books and more on Bob.

Several weeks later Miss Peabody returns. No one has adopted the horse, and the Humane Society can’t afford to keep him any longer. “But what will happen to Bob?” Percy asks. Miss Peabody hesitates. “I’d rather not say,” she admits. To his surprise, Percy blurts out that he has a shed and a meadow behind his bungalow. Bob could stay there. Miss Peabody squeals with delight, and after that, things happen quickly. Bob is to be delivered Saturday morning.

- Sue Anderson

SATURDAY MORNING PERCY rose early. He put on his black hat and boots and red bandanna and went out on the porch to wait. As he waited, he began to daydream. He and Bob were racing across the prairie, fast as the wind. They were just about to leap a wide gully when the rattle of a horse trailer jolted him back to the present. Bob had arrived!

The trailer ramp dropped with a bang, and out stepped a big brown horse with enormous feet and a giant white spot on his nose.

A wave of disappointment washed over Percy. This wasn’t a flashy pinto with one blue eye and one brown eye, and he certainly wasn’t a sleek black cow pony . . . but when Bob turned to look at Percy, his eyes were soft. In those eyes shone eagerness and trust and hope.

Percy offered the carrot he had in his pocket, and Bob stretched out his lips to take it. Picking up the rope and giving Bob a pat, Percy said, “C’mon, pardner.” Bob followed like a big brown dog.

All that afternoon Percy puttered around the shed, refilling the water bucket and putting more hay in the manger. He swept the feed room and polished the saddle that had come with Bob. By evening he was tired, but in a very good way.

The next morning he hurried out before the sun was up. Bob nickered when Percy slid back the door. As Bob ate his oats, Percy brushed him. He began wondering what it would be like to ride Bob. He hadn’t planned on it, not yet at least. But Bob seemed so quiet and docile—maybe he could sit on him for a few minutes, just to see how it felt?

Percy headed into the house to get his favorite book, The Horsekeeper’s Handbook. He propped it up on the feedbox and turned to the chapter entitled “Saddling Your Horse.”