There is a pony trio on my street they are wild, there is a beautiful black mare, a white stallion, as well as a sorrel filly. This filly has more courage than both the parents combined. We are worried, the mother, the black mare, is skinny, weak; on the verge of dyeing, plus this mare has no milk to feed her baby. The dad, the white stallion, has no care for his filly, and will not let her by the skinny mare. I leave oats out, but only the filly comes near it. I came to the mare once and was escorted away by the angry father.
~
The filly is now a one year old filly, the mom unfortunately died. The father is nowhere to be found. I see the filly every now and then, she only enters the town to eat off of someone’s lawn.
~
The filly is now a mare, and I am going to catch her. The next day I set out to find the sorrel mare. I am riding my horse, cash. She is sorrel also. I hear a noise, a horse loping, I think. I begin trotting cash in the direction of the sound. Cash neighed it was extremely loud from where I was. “Ouch” I whisper to cash as I pat her neck. A sorrel horse lopes past the fork in the path. I brought cash to a lope, and fallowed the mare. The mare slowed to a trot I did the same. She was about ten paces in front of us, the mare began to walk and kept trotting, 2 paces behind of the mare I roped her. She didn’t mind, I brought her home and . . . she is a pain in the neck.