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First sight

It was almost, but not quite, love at first sight for me and FarmWife. On her end, it was like at first sight, at least. She saw my pretty black tail hanging out the back of her neighbor's rusty old trailer the day he bought me, and she was hooked. For me, I was always willing to approach the fence for a bit if chit-chat but I didn't commit my heart until she became my waitress—that is, the bringer of the hay.



Here is the first photo FarmWife ever took of me, the day she brought a borrowed pony home to Bent Barrow. I was still the neighbor's mule, but I was jealous nonetheless. That was MY chit-chat fence.
Here, ignoring me as only a pony can, is the offender (whose name, by the way, is Sailor):



I got over it. Oh—and I got FarmWife (so there). Sailor went back to his owner on Whidbey Island and I got the whole stinkin' Bent Barrow family. Neener, neener.


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