Read the following extract. Nowadays Margret did not even go back to the Ark at night; she slept on the straw beside her pony in order to change the dressings on its wound and give it medicine. She went about like a shadow, thinner even than she had been, obsessed with the thought that she must pull the sick animal through.No one else on the farm thought there was any chance of that. The pony lay sprawled in the straw and its breathing was so feeble that it seemed as if each breath would be its last. It was hard for anyone to imagine that the weak little flame of its life could be kept from going out.What would Margret have done without her father? At any time he was ready to come to the barn - whenever her fear got the better of her and she called him. His presence alone reassured her. 'It must not die! Don't let it!' she implored him again and again.It must not die - she could think of nothing else. She rushed through her work in the cowshed and the house in order to get back to the sheep shed. Once an hour she poured hot, strong coffee and brandy into the pony's mouth and tilted its head so that the liquid would have to go down. With ears laid back, and with wide, terrified eyes the animal lay there, twitching each time it was touched. It was evidently afraid of people. A Shetland pony, one of the friendliest and most trusting animals - how much it must have endured to have been made so shy! Margret gently stroked its rough hide and talked consolingly to it. Gradually it seemed to sense that she wanted to help. But all the first day it would not touch the grain she held before its lips. It just turned its head away and ignored everyone and everything. from: 'Rowan Farm' by Margot Benary
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