Little Mini Bert
Caught
The first thing he thought to do was find out more about taking care of the little horse. He considered calling Quinn to come help him, but he was afraid his friend would say to give the horse up for adoption, and he had already decided against that. He turned on the computer and waited for it to load.
“I should probably give you a name,” he mused to himself, watching as the little horse wandered back and forth around the room. It paused to nibble on some of the furniture, but gave up soon after and walked over to him.
Finally the computer loaded and he went on the internet, looking for anything he could find about small horses. At first nothing seemed helpful, so he decided to go to Wikipedia instead.
“So… You’re a miniature horse,” he said thoughtfully, glancing down at the creature. “I’ll call you Mini Bert.” It nudged his hand, running its teeth over his fingers but not biting him. “Oh, you’re still hungry? Well I don’t really have anything else…” He continued searching the web page, but didn’t find out very much about what to feed it. He eventually found a page just about horses in general; he figured they couldn’t be too different from his new charge.
“A horse is a herbivore with a digestive system adapted to a forage diet of grasses and other plant material, consumed regularly throughout the day, and so they have a relatively small stomach but very long intestines to facilitate a steady flow of nutrients,” he said aloud to the horse, glancing down at it. “A 1,000-pound horse will eat between 15 and 25 pounds of food per day and, under normal use, drink 10 to 12 gallons of water. I am so glad you’re small, little horse.”
The phone rang suddenly, causing him to jump and startle the small horse as well. He sighed deeply and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Bert!” Quinn’s voice echoed happily through the earpiece. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Still working on those new songs?”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered uncertainly, nervously glancing between the horse and his bedroom window, hoping there was no chance Quinn could be watching from outside. “Yeah, I’m working on it…”
“You okay? You sound kinda…different…” Quinn drew in a deep breath. “Please don’t tell me-”
“No! I’m fine. I just got a little sidetracked.”
“Don’t lie to me, Bert. Are you still on drugs?” Bert sighed in response. He hated when Quinn could figure things out so quickly. Before he could even answer, his friend responded. “I’m coming over there. See you in a few.”
“Quinn, wait!” But it was too late. The call ended with a light click. He sighed heavily; he had known at least one of the guys would find out eventually, and he was glad it was Quinn as opposed to Jeph…but he couldn’t help but worry about the little horse’s fate. No doubt his friend would suggest selling it or leaving it with someone else. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of crinkling plastic and the horse letting out a sneeze. He watched in horror as it backed away from the bed, holding something in its teeth with a white powder coating its pink nose and lips.
“No! Bad horse, bad!” he cried, hurrying over to it and trying to pry the baggie from its teeth. Unfortunately, the sharp incisors easily tore through the plastic, sending the powder scattering to the floor like dirt.
Bert didn’t know what to do; he knew he couldn’t punish the horse just for being curious, but that had cost him a lot of money. He simply sighed and swept the remnants aside with one hand, shoving the rest far enough under the bed that the horse couldn’t reach it. He smudged some of the powder off its nose, giving half a smirk.
“You’re just like me now, little one. Probably shouldn’t go near that stuff. It’ll screw with your mind.” It let out a weak neigh and nuzzled his hand, running its tongue across his fingers. He couldn’t help but laugh, though his amusement was quickly cut short by the shrill sound of the doorbell.
“I should probably give you a name,” he mused to himself, watching as the little horse wandered back and forth around the room. It paused to nibble on some of the furniture, but gave up soon after and walked over to him.
Finally the computer loaded and he went on the internet, looking for anything he could find about small horses. At first nothing seemed helpful, so he decided to go to Wikipedia instead.
“So… You’re a miniature horse,” he said thoughtfully, glancing down at the creature. “I’ll call you Mini Bert.” It nudged his hand, running its teeth over his fingers but not biting him. “Oh, you’re still hungry? Well I don’t really have anything else…” He continued searching the web page, but didn’t find out very much about what to feed it. He eventually found a page just about horses in general; he figured they couldn’t be too different from his new charge.
“A horse is a herbivore with a digestive system adapted to a forage diet of grasses and other plant material, consumed regularly throughout the day, and so they have a relatively small stomach but very long intestines to facilitate a steady flow of nutrients,” he said aloud to the horse, glancing down at it. “A 1,000-pound horse will eat between 15 and 25 pounds of food per day and, under normal use, drink 10 to 12 gallons of water. I am so glad you’re small, little horse.”
The phone rang suddenly, causing him to jump and startle the small horse as well. He sighed deeply and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Bert!” Quinn’s voice echoed happily through the earpiece. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Still working on those new songs?”
“Uh, yeah,” he answered uncertainly, nervously glancing between the horse and his bedroom window, hoping there was no chance Quinn could be watching from outside. “Yeah, I’m working on it…”
“You okay? You sound kinda…different…” Quinn drew in a deep breath. “Please don’t tell me-”
“No! I’m fine. I just got a little sidetracked.”
“Don’t lie to me, Bert. Are you still on drugs?” Bert sighed in response. He hated when Quinn could figure things out so quickly. Before he could even answer, his friend responded. “I’m coming over there. See you in a few.”
“Quinn, wait!” But it was too late. The call ended with a light click. He sighed heavily; he had known at least one of the guys would find out eventually, and he was glad it was Quinn as opposed to Jeph…but he couldn’t help but worry about the little horse’s fate. No doubt his friend would suggest selling it or leaving it with someone else. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of crinkling plastic and the horse letting out a sneeze. He watched in horror as it backed away from the bed, holding something in its teeth with a white powder coating its pink nose and lips.
“No! Bad horse, bad!” he cried, hurrying over to it and trying to pry the baggie from its teeth. Unfortunately, the sharp incisors easily tore through the plastic, sending the powder scattering to the floor like dirt.
Bert didn’t know what to do; he knew he couldn’t punish the horse just for being curious, but that had cost him a lot of money. He simply sighed and swept the remnants aside with one hand, shoving the rest far enough under the bed that the horse couldn’t reach it. He smudged some of the powder off its nose, giving half a smirk.
“You’re just like me now, little one. Probably shouldn’t go near that stuff. It’ll screw with your mind.” It let out a weak neigh and nuzzled his hand, running its tongue across his fingers. He couldn’t help but laugh, though his amusement was quickly cut short by the shrill sound of the doorbell.