Vikki the Vet Hears Hank the Horse Trainer
Vikki the Vet’s last adventure left her at the airport in Frankfurt.
Frankfurt is just a five-hour drive from Hamburg.
Hamburg is where we get the word hamburger from.
And Frankfurt is where we get the word frankfurter from.
And as we learned in Vikki the Vet: Finds Phileas the Frog frankfurters are hot dogs.
If you could drive non-stop at fifty miles per hour in a straight line it would take you approximately twenty days to travel around the world!
Yet the hamburger and the hotdog come from cities only a few hours apart.
Truth truly is stranger than fiction!
But I digress.
Vikki the Vet is at the airport in Frankfurt.
And while at the airport in Germany, Vikki the Vet had an idea.
She had the idea to hit up her old horse trainer named Hank.
Hank, the horse trainer, lives in Vienna.
Vienna is in Austria.
And Austria is right beside Germany.
So, Vikki the Vet gave Hank a call.
“Hello, Hank,” said Vikki the Vet.
“Do you know who this is?”
“Hey Now! It’s Vikki the Vet!” hollered a happy Hank.
“It’s good to hear your voice, Hank. It’s been a long time.”
“It’s good to hear you too!” exclaimed Hank, the horse trainer.
“Hank. I’m at the airport in Frankfurt.”
“And I’m heading home.”
“But before I buy my ticket’ I’m thinking I could do the more circuitous route and come visit Vienna.”
“So I’m wondering if you’re up for a visit?” asked Vikki the Vet.
“Absolutely!” said Hank.
“Great! I’ll give you a call when I get into Vienna,” answered Vikki the Vet.
So, on the spur of the moment, Vikki the Vet decided to visit Vienna.
Vikki the Vet flew from Frankfurt to Vienna on Austrian Airlines.
Then she caught a cab to her hotel in the heart of old town.
Once she was refreshed, Vikki called Hank from her hotel.
“Hi Hank,” Vikki the Vet began.
“So, what would you like to do this evening?” asked Hank.
“There are so many sights to see in Vienna that it nearly staggers the mind,” said Vikki the Vet.
“But you know how I love my viola,*” said Vikki the Vet.
“So I was hoping we could go to the Vienna Philharmonic.”
*The viola is like the violin, but it’s a little bit bigger.
You could say it’s the violin’s big brother.
Vienna is the home of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.
And that’s about as good as it gets in the orchestral world.
“Sounds good to me,” said Hank.
“Let me get ready, and I’ll pick you up at seven.”
So Vikki the Vet and Hank, the horse trainer, went to the Vienna Philharmonic.
After the performance, they stood outside the entrance and took a few minutes to compose themselves.
“Hey Now!” said Hank as he handed Vikki the Vet his handkerchief.
“Wonderful! Truly wonderful,” said Vikki the Vet as she dabbed at her eyes with Hank’s handkerchief.
“It’s a lovely evening,” said Hank.
“I suggest we go for a walk to my work.”
“Lead the way,” said Vikki the Vet.
Hank is the head trainer at the Spanish Riding School.
And the Spanish Riding School is a famous horse dance palace.
Both the Vienna Philharmonic and the Spanish Riding School are located on the grounds of the Hofburg Imperial Palace.
They are about fifteen minutes apart.
So Vikki the Vet and Hank, the head trainer, walked from the home of the Vienna Philharmonic to the Spanish Riding School.
Along the way they passed:
the Vienna State Opera,
The Imperial Butterfly House,
and the Austrian National Library.
Once they reached the Spanish Riding School Hank introduced Vikki the Vet to Hermon the Horse.
“This is Hermon,” said Hank as he gave Hermon a handful of hay.
Wow! Aren’t you a tall horse,” said Vikki the Vet.
“How many hands high is he?”
“Hermon the Horse is a heck of a horse,” answered Hank.
“He’s 16 hands high.”
Now you know:
Horses are measured in hands.
From their withers – which is the base of their neck – to the ground.
And each hand is 4″ long.
About the width of a wiener schnitzel!
“Hermon is a highly skilled horse,” said Hank.
“He can dance on the air with the best of them.”
“But he’s currently out with a hurt hamstring,” said Hank, the head horse trainer.
“What type of treatment is Hermon getting?” asked Vikki the Vet as she went back into veterinarian mode.
“Hermon is fine. Don’t worry,” Hank answered.
“A hamstring injury on a horse is nothing to trifle with,” said a concerned Vikki the Vet.
“Hey Now!” said Hank the mustachioed horse handler.
“Who do you think you are dealing with?”
“You know I take the health of my horses seriously.”
To put Vikki the Vet’s mind at ease Hank, the horse handler, gave Vikki a quick rundown:
“Hermon has a strain in his middle hamstring muscle that is leading to hypertonicity.”
“So we’re treating Hermon with a rotation of: heat, then rest, then acupuncture.”
“And in the meantime, Hilda the Horse is standing in.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all under control,” Vikki the Vet responded.
“We have a world-class staff here,” answered Hank, the horse trainer.
“Hey now! No need to worry.”
“Hey Hank,” said Vikki the Vet.
“What’s with the ‘Hey Nows!'”
“Is that an Austrian thing?”
“Either you know it, or you don’t.”
“Well aren’t you cryptic,” laughed Vikki the Vet.
“What can I say,” said Hank.
“Now how about we head back towards your hotel.”
“Maybe we can even stop for some strudel along the way.”
“Music to my ears,” Vikki the Vet eagerly agreed.
And that’s the story of Vikki the Vet’s one night Viennese vacation.