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A Horse Story

I have a story to tell you. I first heard part of the story from Mom, years ago. It started as a “when I was pregnant with you,” story.

“When I was pregnant with you, our love baby,” Mom said, “one day your father didn’t come home for dinner.”

[Note: Love baby means accident, but I didn’t know that until I was so old it didn’t matter any more. Only it did matter, because Mom gave me the gift of thinking I was something special, by calling me that. All my life.]

“We lived out on a ranch. He had been searching and searching for a calf, and he didn't come home, so I was worried.”

It is very romantic to picture your parents living on a ranch while you are a love baby bun in the oven. Just wait, it gets even better.

“It was the middle of summer, and I was big pregnant with you, and all I had to drive was my VW bug. And I had your sister, who was just over one year old. I somehow loaded us all up in the bug, barely reaching the steering wheel with my big belly in front of me, and we dro…

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