High Flying Adore

I called her Flyer. This filly arrived a week or so after I started and went into the pony stall. She was a dark bay with a wide blaze. She was nice to walk and often I would go visit her in her stall. One time I went over and she had a gash in her forehead. I called over Sanchez and looked around for what caused it. The number of loose nails, loose metal trimming, and splintered wood made it difficult to find where exactly she had hurt herself. I went searching for a hammer to get her stall in better shape so it wouldn't happen again. Marcelo later said this action showed how I think like someone who should be a foreman or assistant. A week or so after she got here she was entered in a race. For a few days after I didn't see her or notice her abscence because we walk different horses and often the ones in the pony stall get shipped off after their races. Then one day I'm sitting with Sanchez and he and Marcelo are betting for the first race. Marcelo comes out with the program and a pen and deals out the results. This horse scratched, trouble in the gate, this horse won, this was last, this one broke down, this was second...wait, wait, wait broke down? What do you mean broke down? I stammered. Sanchez mimed slitting his throat. I stared in disbelief, dead? Wait that horse is dead? Yeah, broke down, they come onto the track, you know, and put it down. You know the horse that was over there- he points to the pony stall- it broke down. What? What happened? She broke down. She's dead? No, no problem with the leg she'll go to the farm now. Flyer was my first eye-opener here. This wasn't all fun and games.