I was led to one of two stalls along the short side of the barn, where a little four year old mare stood. From the depths of that dark sweat box, she turned her chiseled head toward us. It was a testament to her good nature that these poor living conditions had not jaded her faith in humans.
Her poll dripped with moisture under the head collar she wore even in the stall, and Emily attached a chain over her nose before leading her out.
Standing square in front of me, Nonette was even prettier than in her photos. Billed at 15.3 hands, she was definitely smaller. Yet she was well put together and had that typical Thoroughbred dip in front of the withers. Her light bay body was filled out better than the thin horses I’d driven past. This made sense after Emily told me Nonette was still on tw
