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The horse 35

For a season of my childhood there were horses. Chief among them was Thirty-five, the ancient dappled-grey mare whose size and demeanor frightened me least of the three. She was purchased with the name ‘Thirty-five’ but no explanation for the numerical designation. We inferred that Thirty-five must have been the count of circles she’d turn if you attempted to ride out beyond the barn alone. She was a pack animal and no more, comfortable in the world only if behind another.…