Not Bad for a Bad Lad Read Online Free

“I’ve got a bit of a job for you.” A few minutes later he was walking me tothe end stable.

    “In here,” he said, opening the door. “He came in last night. Five-year-old, he is. Dombey, he’s called. He’s not a Suffolk, but he’s as good as. Not quite as big maybe, but the same type. Brown and white. ‘Skewbald’, we call that. Handsome looking fellow isn’t he? But he’s a bit upset.” I could see that. Unlike all the other horses, who were always looking out over their stable doors, all bright-eyed and happy, this one was standing with his head down, in the darkest corner of the stable.
     
    “Where he’s come from they couldn’t manage him,” Mr Alfie told me. “He’s a bit of a handful it seems. Dombey’s had a hard time. Someone’s taken a stick to him, that’s what I think. But he’s strong asyou like, kind eye, big heart. He’s a good sort. I know a good sort when I see one. That’s why I’ve taken him on. That’s why I took you on. But Dombey’s frit, and he’s miserable. He’s off his food too. All he needs is someone he can trust, someone who can understand him and gentle him. So I thought, why not you? I want you just to spend time with him, son, talk to him, give him a pat, tell him he’s a good lad, make him feel he’s wanted. He’s got to feel like someone loves him. But watch him, mind. They say he’s got a mighty powerful kick on him.”
     
    Only the next morning I was to find that out for myself. I thought I was doing everything just right. I went into the stable nice and slow, talking to him all the while. His tail swished a bit, so I knew he was a bit nervy. I stood by his head for a long time, just whispering to him, smoothing his neck, stroking his ears gently.

    He liked that, everything was fine. He looked happy enough to have me there. After a bit I thought that was probably enough for a first meeting. I was feeling quite pleased with myself. I gave him a goodbye pat and walked out slowly the way I’d come in, behind him. Big mistake. I didn’t even see him kick me, but I felt it all right. The next thing I knew I was lying there on my back in the straw, feeling like a right nitwit.

    Mr Alfie was leaning over the stable door. “He kicked you then?” he said, smiling down at me. “Did it hurt?”
    “What d’you think?” I told him, rubbing at my leg to ease away the pain.
    “Well son, whatever you did, you won’t do it again then, will you?” Mr Alfie said. “It’ll take time. It always takes time to learn to trust someone.” He wasn’t showing me much sympathy. “Anyway,” he went on, looking up at Dombey, who was chomping away at his hay, “Dombey seems to be eating well enough now. So he’s happy about something. You must have done something right then.” That was the thing about Mr Alfie, he always said something to buck you up and make you feel better about yourself.
     
    It took time, just like Mr Alfie had said, for Dombey and me to learn to get along, months of talking to him, of grooming him, of exercising him, of just being with him. He never kicked me again, but then I never gave him cause. I never walked behind him again in the stable. I got to know his little ways, and he got to know mine. He grew to be as bold and as bright-eyed as the others, always looking out over the stable door whenever I came into the yard, waiting for me.
     
    I made two good friends in that stable yard, two of the best I ever had.

     Dombey and me became like brothers. I was never so happy in all my life than when I was riding Dombey along the beach. Mr Alfie gave me special permission to do that. He told me I should gallop him through the shallows. He needed it, he said. It would be good for him to stretch his legs and build up his strength. Dombey loved every moment of it and so did I. In one way, he was like a little brother to me, because I was looking after him. But then in another way he was my big brother, because he was big. When he pushed me