Jigsaw Pony Read Online Free

that day everyone in class thought mostly about Jigsaw.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Blacksmith

    M rs. Shaw enjoyed leading Jigsaw home so much she started taking him on her morning walks.
    They met dogs on leashes. They met babies in strollers. They met people with canes, and people jogging, and everyone was surprised and pleased to see a pony.
    Soon they started watching for him. They gave him apples, and carrots, and oatmeal raisin cookies.
    On Saturday Mr. Fletcher came.
    “Hello, Jig. Looks as if those feet need trimming.”
    He bent down. Jigsaw lifted his foot before Mr. Fletcher even touched it. But Mr. Fletcher said,
“Ow!”
    He straightened slowly. He put one hand on his back.
    “Ponies are the hardest thing I do,” he said. “Too far
down!”
    “Put him up on something,” said Mr. Shaw. “What about the back of your truck?”
    Mr. Fletcher laughed. “You don’t know much about ponies, do you?”
    Kiera and Fran looked at each other. That was true, but they didn’t think Mr. Fletcher should say it.
    “Daddy
doesn’t
know much about ponies,” Kiera said.
    “But
we
do,” Fran said.
    “And
we
think it’s a good idea,” they said together.
    Fran said, “Can you move your truck to where the sidewalk’s high?”
    Mr. Fletcher moved his truck. Fran and Kiera got into the back. Kiera held the rope. Fran had an apple.
    “Up you go, Jig,” said Mr. Shaw.
    Jigsaw had never climbed into a pickup before. But it didn’t look hard. Fran and Kiera were up there. So was the apple. He put his front feet on the tailgate.
    “Help me give him a boost,” said Mr. Shaw.
    “Ow!”
said Mr. Fletcher. With a scramble and a couple of thuds, Jigsaw landed in the back of the truck.
    He ate the apple. Then he let Kiera and Fran lead him to the edge of the tailgate. He held up his foot for Mr. Fletcher.
    “Perfect!” said Mr. Fletcher. “I don’t have to bend a bit. Wish I’d thought of this years ago!”
    Jigsaw looked across the front yards. He could see a lot more from up this high. Cars slowed down on the street. Neighbors came out to watch.
    “I
never
saw a pony do anything like that!”
    “I never even saw a picture of one doing that!”
    When Mr. Fletcher was through with both left feet, Fran and Kiera turned Jigsaw around. Now he looked at the houses across the street. That was interesting, too.
    Mr. Fletcher finished trimming Jigsaw’s feet. “Okay, let’s get him down.”

    Fran and Kiera got out of the truck. “Come on, Jig! Hop down.”
    Jigsaw looked at them. He was a long way up. Hopping down didn’t look easy. It didn’t look safe.
    Jigsaw didn’t move.
    “Uh-oh,” said Mr. Fletcher. “Now what?”
    “It’s too far down,” said Mr. Shaw. For someone who didn’t know much about ponies, he was a very good guesser. “We need a step, so it’s easier for him.”
    “A wheelbarrow?” one neighbor asked.
    “Too tippy,” Fran said.
    “What about my big plastic toolbox?” asked another neighbor.
    “Not strong enough,” Kiera said.
    “There’s a stump at the edge of our lawn,” Jody said.
    “Good idea,” Fran said.
    “He could use that for a step,” Kiera said.
    “I’ll back up to it,” Mr. Fletcher said. “But somebody has to ride with him, and hold on tight. If he gets scared, he might jump out and hurt himself.”
    Mr. Shaw got up with Jigsaw. Mr. Fletcher started the truck. He backed so slowly that the truck hardly seemed to move. Fran, Kiera, Jody, and the neighbors walked alongside.
    “Easy, Jigsaw!”
    “It’s okay.”
    “Don’t be scared.”
    Jigsaw wasn’t a bit scared. He’d been in horse trailers before. He’d ridden in a car. He watched the houses and yards creep past. He nuzzled Mr. Shaw’s hand.
    “I used to be your only friend,” Mr. Shaw said. “Now you’ve got a whole neighborhood of friends.”
    Jigsaw lifted his head. He and Mr. Shaw sniffed noses, just like the old days. “You’re a good little guy,” Mr. Shaw said.
    Mr. Fletcher stopped next to the