This morning I pulled on my paddock boots and headed out on an urban equine adventure. My friend Eliza and I have gone on many such adventures – not always on horseback. We’ve trekked to Pennsylvania in pea-soup fog to tour a sport horse breeding facility for a horse magazine story assignment. We’ve flown to Wellington, Florida to join the fun at the Winter Equestrian Festival. We’ve schlepped to Middleburg, Virginia to dilly dally and watch race horses work behind the scenes at the Middleburg Training Center. For today’s adventure we didn’t have to go too far.
After a serious background check at the heavily-armed gate and few wrong turns, we showed up at the barn. A friendly sergeant showed us in to meet Quincy. Inside the spit-polished barn, the paved aisle shined from a fresh rinse. Light shone into the barn through clean windows. The horses, most of them either black or on the white end of gray (as tradition dictates) rested in freshly-picked out stalls.
Quincy took a brief break from his hay to greet us over the stall door, took a long swig from the tidy automatic watering trough in his stall and resumed eating. We lingered outside his stall, admiring his beauty and discussing his good qualities with an amiable soldier named Bernard who worked in the barn. I particularly liked Quincy’s white spotted lip and fetlocks.
But soon enough we were on our way home. Eliza’s still pondering her application. As one might have guessed, many eager potential adopters have already turned in applications to adopt Quincy. No doubt he will find a great home.
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