First month of Spring.

Carsile puts a halter on me and says as she leads me out the pasture and into the east pasture, "I'm going to put you out to graze freely in the large east pasture instead of you being in the west pasture for a while because I'm going away on holiday. You'll feel as if you are free like before I got you. I hope you'll remember me when I come back and still be ridable. Talking about riding you I'll get on you now and ride you bareback to the east pasture." Carsile gets on me and slowly walks to the east pasture on my back.

I snort and paw the ground again. The car still hasn't come back. I try to chew off the rope attached to the halter, but it is too close for my mouth to reach. I rear high up into the air, nieghing loudly: "Can anyone help me?!" I try to pull it off the fence post, but the rope showed no signs of breaking. Angry and even a little bit frightened, I still pull and try to bite at the rope.