They don’t know what I know.
But on Day 22, I came to the paddock, and the fence was down. The blue ribbon was tied around a rock. And the rock was thrown through the kitchen window. emilys diary horse 22
Not in the round pen. Not on a lead line. Just me, the saddle, and 1,200 pounds of muscle and mystery. Storm is the chestnut gelding with the white blaze — the one everyone at the stable says is “too much horse” for a fourteen-year-old. They don’t know what I know