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... ck before I left home for good, I remembered we had five perfectly fine horses living fine in our barn. Each excelled at one thing or another. One for plowing, another for herding, Bueller was the best at hauling the wagons, but Ferdinand was always my favorite. On his back, galloping through the meadows, nothing else could make me feel that invincible.
Really sad not being there to see them go, or to at least say goodbye, even sadder that Dad could find only three to serve as their repl ...
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