I saved my horse for last. My horse, I had gotten for my thirteenth birthday. He was a Thoroughbred/Arabian/Paint cross. He was sixteen point one hands high, a three year old gelding. He loved to run, and his favorite activity was jumping. My favorite characteristic about his appearance was his Paint breeding coming through his solid coat covering. He had a big white spot on his haunches, that made the first half foot of his tail white. The rest of him was dark chestnut. When he heard me coming with his food, he stuck his head over his stall door.
"Hey Rosco! What'cha doing boy?" He whinnied his hello.
"Would you like to come out for a while?" He nodded his head.
"Kay. Stay right there, and I'll be right back." I went to the back of the barn, into the tack room, next to the feed room. I grabbed his bridle, saddle and girth strap. I quickly walked back to Rosco's stall and got him ready. When we were ready, I led him out to the isle and mounted. I directed him over to the open barn door.
"Rosco, should we try checking the mail again?" He blinked and swished his tail. "Fine then." We went over to the mail box. I very carefully reached over and opened the lid. "Yeah! It's about time the mail came. I was about to go hunt the mailman down." I told Rosco. I flipped through the pile of envelopes, reading off the lables.
Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, me, and me." I put the mail addressed to my mom back in the mailbox and tore open one of the envelopes addressed to me.
"Dear Maranda, This is your agent Ms. Davis. I am writing to you in regards of a company that sells clothes. They saw your picture the agency has, and they want you to be their new model for their summer line of clothes. Call me for more information. You have my number.
"Dear Hanson Fans,
We are writing to all the members in our fanclub to please send a picture and description of themselves so we can see what some of our fans look like. We're just kinda curious.
Please respond soon.
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