The horse of my heart
MOLLY AUSTEN, whose expressive ears adorn this page, went to heaven yesterday.
It’s strange, knowing she isn’t here any more. She wanders through my thoughts, and I can still feel the velvet of her nose and see the softness of her eyes when I fed her a bagful of carrots and apples for the last time early that morning. If I breathe in, I can still catch the familiar smell of
