““Ready?” Laura said, standing at the back of the trailer, waiting to pull the dead bolt that would release the ramp. Lay Me Down and her foal stood quietly together in the trailer, apparently too weak to raise much of a fuss. “Ready,” I nodded, and we pulled out the bolts and let the ramp down slowly, unhooking the kick chain at the same time. Neither horse moved. Either they didn’t know the ramp was down or they didn’t want to get out. I was holding a lead line hooked to Lay Me Down’s halter t...o help guide her backward. I gave it a gentle tug. No response. Laura walked to the front and peeked through the little door at the front of the trailer, clucking softly to encourage them. I called Lay Me Down by name and tapped my fingers lightly against her rump. “She’s asleep,” Laura reported. Asleep? I dropped the lead line and walked toward the front, ducking my head to walk through the trailer door, and stood inches away from Lay Me Down. She was a tall horse, sixteen hands—about five foot four at the shoulder.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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