This is an angry blog, so if you can't hack it, don't click it.
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
Fucked is what you are when you don't sign a contract. Fucked is what you are when someone decides that what you've been waiting 6 months for just became a whole lot more valuable to them. Fucked is what you are when your colt runs up a 300 dollar vet bill in his first three days of life, and the mare's owner decides she's not going to sell him anymore.
Stupid is what you are when you don't expect something to go wrong, when the odds of a strong healthy foal that survives are less than 40%.
Angry is what you are when it slaps you in the face.
I have no foal, no place to ride anymore, and I lost people that I once respected today. This is the beginning to something bad.
I am itchy in this skin. It's a coat that's not mine. I want to tear it off, but I can't. No shedding for me. I feel the desperate need add ink and holes to my canvas, but cannot, for a variety of reasons. A full shed is in order... If only, if only...
just curious, why is the healthy birth rate of a foal so low this day in age?
*hugs and looks around for a boxing bag to give her*