Little Pasture on the Prairie

Before I had kids, I had a colt. Like all babies, she grew up fast; by her first winter the red hair she was born with had thickened, her chocolate-brown mane was no longer short, coltish bristles, and her legs were no longer skinny knobs. Despite being raised by a mostly wild mare, Jane had warmed up to me right away, eating hay and grain from my hands the same day we brought her home. ...

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