The Australian Women's Weekly

A second chance at life

I first met Toby when I went to buy a different horse. That horse was called Bundy and he was impressive. His coat gleamed and his muscles rippled as he moved. But in another paddock on the property, I spotted what looked like a broken down old nag. A swarm of flies lingered around his inflamed eyes. His coat was parched and dirty, his feet cracked, his eyes full of resignation. His Roman nose and big head were the reasons why the two horses were being treated so differently. Neither of those characteristics would be popular with buyers. You could get decent money for Bundy, but this other horse was destined for the knackery.

I later learnt that he was just

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