Chapter 3

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          That leads us to the present. I started to trot around in a circle in the tan holding pen. I screamed and heard a familiar answer. I stopped and looked. All I could see was tan. Everywhere I looked, it was tan. I neighed again. A smaller reply came back. It sounded like it was 100 yards away. It was Ivy!!! She sounded weak and scared.

          Stay strong my girl!!! I screamed out to her and reared. All I could see was the tips of the horse's ears. I wanted to be with my family. To be with Ivy. To strengthen her and comfort her. I lowed my head since to reply came back. Then, a gate opened. I bolted for the gate, not knowing what was on the other side. 

         There were two gray cattle gates, one coming from my pen, and the other coming from another pen. Running along beside me was a horse that looked like my mother, only darker in color. I stopped in the middle, letting the other horse get ahead of me. Judging the height of the fences, I could jump it if I had a run-up start. I looked to anyone I knew. Just when the cowboys came to keep me moving I saw Ivy walking on the other side. I nickered to her and let her catch up.

        She looked just as beautiful as before, and I had to fight the sting in my heart that was growing. This might be the last time I saw her. I didn't want her to leave. The lane in front of us stopped, and we waited till the gate opened. I nuzzled her face to comfort her. Now, most everything was going to be okay.

       The gate opened, and there was a large pen with big cattle gates. We trotted out into the open and looked around. There was sagebrush everywhere. Sadness tugged on my heart. Saige wasn't here with Storm. The lively little foal would've brightened up the gloomy seen. The only thing that would help is to see my mother and father. When I was little, there was a round-up, and they, along with I and my sister, were released. I was positive that they got released again. 

       Two men on horses came in, holding ropes, a strong small piece of rope that had a number. Each of them had one, and they were coming up to us. I laid my ears back against my head and bared my teeth and shielded Ivy. I would let nothing get between us again.

       "Careful Lars. That grulla looks real wild," One of the men said.

       "Yeah, I know. But, that's why we have lassos," The other said and whirled the rope around and around, each time getting bigger and better. I stomped my hoof on the ground angrily. 

         Before I knew it, the big rope was around my neck. It happened so quickly I didn't know what to do. The white's off my eyes showed as I was pulled away from my dear Ivy. I could not rear or buck. Men were coming from all sides of me holding me down so the strong small piece of rope with a number could be tried on my head. #746 was mine and #747 was Ivy's.

       Then, a trailer came and took us away. I knew this was the last time I would see the wild. Never was I supposed to see Boulder, Saige, Storm, or Fern again.

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