Everyday Life Toward Summer

"This time, it was 469... a full two kilograms heavier than at his debut!"

After leading the newly weighed Mejiro Tenma back to his stall, Ogawa Masaru eagerly reported to his father.

"Thanks for the effort, A-Sheng."

Ogawa Joe patted his head.

Though the progress was slow, Mejiro Tenma had indeed grown physically compared to when he had first debuted.

If one did not observe him closely, or was not a staff member who spent every day with him, it would probably have been difficult to notice such subtle changes.

Because of their coat color, gray horses often gave people a vague impression of their build.

However, the chest muscles once hidden beneath his coat a few months ago could now be faintly seen.

This was inseparable from Ogawa Masaru's attentive care.

"Then I'll go report this good news to Brother Kitano... Mr. Kitano!"

"Mm, go ahead."

Ogawa Joe nodded and sat down by the computer.

He did not notice the change in how Ogawa Masaru addressed Kitano.

He turned on the computer and recorded Mejiro Tenma's weight changes in the physical management chart.

Then he held the mouse and fell into thought.

Mejiro Tenma was the kind of horse who could maintain his racing condition without much training.

Although he was not outstanding in either cardiovascular strength or physique, that alone was enough to give him a considerable advantage among horses his own age.

What he needed to worry about was his development after turning three.

Once he turned three, he would inevitably have to start entering mixed-age races.

Not only would the differences in physique become more obvious, but in terms of race condition and experience, he would most likely be no match for the older horses.

"What a headache..."

Though he said that aloud, Ogawa Joe kept his eyes fixed on the screen, constantly adjusting the planned training regimen.

Even if he did nothing at all, no one would step forward to criticize him.

But once he chose the wrong direction, every move he made would be magnified endlessly beneath the spotlight.

That was the reality faced by racehorse trainers.

Owner Mr. Kitano was not particularly obsessed with racing or prize money, and jockey Ochiai had likewise offered no feedback about the horse being insufficiently trained.

So in truth, simply completing the pasture turnout properly would have been enough to satisfy everyone's demands.

That was the easiest approach.

But from the very beginning, he had received Mr. Kitano's trust as the owner—calling it a complete delegation of authority would not have been an exaggeration.

Since that was the case, Ogawa Joe felt that he should at least put in effort equal to that trust.

"Although Pegasus has recovered a little faster than expected, this level of training should be enough."

After spending some time on it, Ogawa Joe finally arranged this week's training schedule.

Mejiro Tenma was not a racehorse with tremendous stamina, but whether it was fatigue accumulated from racing or training, it seemed to be thoroughly relieved by the day after he returned to the stable.

If his physical growth had not been so slow, this might have been an incredible talent.

Meanwhile, Kitano hung up the phone.

Then, without realizing it, he smiled.

"That's wonderful!"

Though he had already said it once over the phone, he could not help repeating it.

When he went to visit in a few days, he would bring a few extra boxes of hay.

Having made that decision, he flipped the sign outside the clinic over to the "Open" side.

A new day had begun.

Kitano slowly walked back to the break room. When he came out, he was carrying the latest issue of Yushun and some cookies he had bought at a pastry shop on the way.

For once, he had no scheduled house calls today. As long as nothing unexpected happened, he could enjoy at least a few leisurely hours.

Just as he was thinking that, a completely unfamiliar car pulled up in front of the clinic.

It looked like a rental car.

During summer vacation, many horse racing fans came to Hokkaido for sightseeing and toured the ranches of the Hidaka area.

Kitano guessed that they had probably come to ask for directions.

But as he was thinking that, two young men carried something into the clinic together.

"Doctor, please save Kintaro!"

After placing a rather large husky on the counter, one of them spoke with an anxious expression.

"What... happened?"

Kitano put down the magazine and asked in confusion.

The husky before him looked somewhat overweight. When he lay down, obvious rolls of fat could even be seen around his waist.

Other than that, he appeared quite healthy.

He was even staring at the cookies on the table, drooling nonstop.

"And I..."

"He ate buttercups—"

Kitano's expression instantly turned serious.

"Are you sure?"

he asked.

Buttercup plants contained protoanemonin. If ingested by mistake, they could severely irritate the oral mucosa and digestive tract.

Clinical symptoms included redness and swelling of the mouth, tongue, and throat, accompanied by a distinct burning sensation, frequent drooling, vomiting, diarrhea, and loss of appetite.

It was currently buttercup season, and every year around this time, Kitano encountered quite a few cases of accidental buttercup ingestion.

But he had not expected this year's first case to be a husky.

"Look, this should be a buttercup, right?"

The man raised his phone and enlarged a photo.

Kitano leaned closer and examined it carefully. After a moment, he said expressionlessly, "That's a dandelion."

He was not so incompetent that he could not tell the difference between a dandelion and a buttercup.

"Huh?"

The two men holding the husky both froze.

"But... after Kintaro ate that thing, he's looked like he has no appetite at all?"

one of them asked uncertainly.

"Is it possible that he had already eaten his fill at the time?"

Kitano took out a cookie and waved it above the dog's nose.

Kintaro immediately opened his mouth wide and began wagging his tail frantically.

"Then... what about the frequent drooling?"

The other man pointed at the transparent strand continuously stretching from Kintaro's tongue.

"At the time, it might have been because he had just exercised. As for now..."

Kitano popped the cookie into his own mouth.

The wildly wagging tail abruptly stopped.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

The husky buried his head in the man's hands and let out an unmistakably aggrieved cry.

"He's probably getting hungry."

"Of course, if you're still worried, we can take his temperature or check whether there are any problems in his mouth."

Kitano took out a small flashlight, pried open the husky's mouth, and examined it for a while.

"Very healthy."

He put away the flashlight.

"I-I see..."

The two looked at each other. After a while, they awkwardly lifted the husky off the counter.

After the two men left, Kitano took out his magazine again.

Although they had cost him quite a bit of time, he did not feel annoyed.

As a practicing veterinarian, treating sick animals was his responsibility.

Those two men had entered the clinic precisely because they trusted him.

But...

He really should consider replacing the sign with something more recognizable.

Outside the clinic, one or two cicadas could first be heard faintly, before their buzzing gradually grew louder.

Picking up the air conditioner remote, Kitano lowered the temperature by another degree.