Watch your step
The scream, a child’s, terrified and panicking, came from behind me. I turned. A little blonde moppet, still screaming, eyes wide and fearful, was sprawled where she had tripped or slipped on the ramp of the horsebox. The overheated, overbred show pony was rearing, its hooves thrashing the air.
I moved. Fast. Just in time, I pulled the child away. The animal’s feet came crashing down, its iron-shod hooves splintering the wood of the loading ramp.
A pale-faced mother, almost as hysterical as her daughter, snatched the child from me. A man came loping over, caught the pony, walked it around for a minute or two to calm it prior to quickly trotting it up the damaged ramp into the horsebox. As soon as it was safely in, he shut the gates and closed
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