Livora Gracely

He heard the word photo and gave it everything.

Ready Already

The horse began smiling before the photographer had taken the cap off her lens.

He stood outside the village hall with his black mane brushed to one side and all four hooves on the mark. Inside, the gardening club was setting out chairs for its first meeting of the season. New members were having their photographs taken for the club album.

The otter adjusted her camera. Beside her stool lay a pile of small name boards.

“Clover?”

The horse nodded. His smile widened.

“I’ve done the spelling,” he said.

She picked up his board. Six white letters stood neatly against the dark wood.

“Very good. We’ll need your name showing beneath your face.”

Clover lowered his head and took the top edge between his front teeth.

The Name in the Way

The otter looked through the camera.

“That’s the right place.”

Clover raised his ears. He had checked his smile in a shop window on the way over, and there was one particular version he wanted to use.

He tried it.

The board tilted.

He closed his mouth more firmly around the edge, straightened it, and tried again. This time, the lettering stayed level, but most of the smile remained behind it.

“Could I—”

The board slipped against his teeth. He caught it before saying anything more.

The otter lowered the camera.

“Would you like to put that down?”

Clover laid it on the stool. A small dark patch marked the wood where he had been holding it.

He ran his tongue over his front teeth.

“I need these,” he said.

“For talking?”

“That too.”

She waited while he looked from the board to the camera.

“I’d like to look pleased to be joining.”

A Little String

The otter glanced at the grin he was now able to demonstrate.

“I think that will come across.”

“Have you any string?”

“In the box.”

“If the board hung here, I could leave it alone.”

He lowered his chin toward his chest. The otter took a length of soft cord from her equipment box and threaded it through the two holes at the top of the board.

Clover bent his head while she slipped the loop over his ears. A few strands of mane caught beneath the cord; she lifted them free before settling the board against his chest.

He looked down at his name.

“Straight?”

“A little to your left.”

He shifted one hoof.

“The board,” she said gently.

“Oh.”

She adjusted it. He stood still, and the six letters stayed where they belonged.

“Now,” he said.

All Present

The otter returned to the camera. Clover lifted his head and offered the smile he had brought from the shop window.

The camera clicked.

She checked the photograph, then turned the screen toward him. He bent close enough to see his name beneath his face.

Both ears had made it into the picture. So had considerably more teeth than the otter had seen in the other new members’ photographs.

Clover studied it in silence.

From inside the hall, someone called that the meeting was about to begin.

“Will that do?” the otter asked.

“Could I have a copy?”

“Of course.”

He straightened, still looking at the screen.

“Perhaps two. I’d like one at home.”

She noted it beside his name and lifted the cord clear of his mane. He waited while she put the board back on the stool, then went to join the meeting.

In the photograph, CLOVER occupied one small line.

The teeth appeared to have applied for membership separately.