Page 14 - BornToRunFlipBook

the stack.

She motioned toward the corrals.

“Now, come meet my babies.”

Knowing I was going to be

meeting some horses for the first

time, I had asked permission of the

apartment owner to take any good

apples that has survived under the

snow beneath the old tree in the yard.

“Sure,” he had said. “Take all you

want. They will just go to waste

anyway.” So, I had filled my coat

pockets full. I asked Brenda if it was

okay if I gave the horses some, and

she nodded.

As we approached the first corral,

one of the most beautiful paint mares

I have ever seen came over and stuck

her head above the top pole.

“This is Patches,” Brenda said. “I

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