My own horses and those belonging to two friends occupy each of our four available stalls. That’s four horses and four stalls. Full house.
But Harvey knows I have a weak spot for off-track Thoroughbreds, or OTTBs. If I’d told him I was fetching a beautiful young bay mare that morning from her dark, dingy sweat box of a stall in a Pennsylvania shed row, no way would he have believed I was taking her straight to a Thoroughbred Rescue center.
He’d have been convinced I’d make up some story about how I just had to bring her home to our barn.
This was the confrontation I wanted to avoid at all costs that Tuesday morning. Harvey would have made me unhitch the trailer and abandon all plans of saving the little mare. I couldn’t risk that—I’d made it my mission to rescue that horse from her unha
