September Sunrise stood listlessly in her stall. At four years old, her glory days were done and over. She was fed and watered and all of that important horse care stuff.
But she was no longer running.
And that’s all that she wanted to do…run.
Run for breath.
Run for joy.
Run for the exhilaration of living.
But they patted her kindly on the head and said gently, “Sorry, ol’ girl. Your running days are done.”
As the days went by, she started to believe them.
She would never run again.
Her life would be forever cooped up in a stall or a fenced in field.
One day, someone fed her, petted her head, and left.
They didn’t make sure the door was latched shut.
September’s ears perked up. She knew the sound of a latched door and the sound of an unlatched door.
She knew that the door was unlatched.
She didn’t hesitate.
She nudged the door.
A polite, gentle nudge.
The door inched forward.
She exhaled through her nostrils – a warm, soft sound – as she considered freedom.
September nudged it with all of her might.
The door swung all the way open.
She nickered with a wicked glee.
September Sunrise tossed her mane and ran through the open door.