Ashleigh Walker

Imagine a girl to whom being around horses was a need, not a want. That is me. Everything is linked to horses: school projects, art pictures, bedroom, cookies, wrapping paper, anything. So, when my dad took my horse to Kansas with him, that left me in a deep, dark hole.

I rode my bike around for months to any barn near me. I called old pony club friends and looked at every barn in the area.

One day, we were helping a family friend with a garage sale and I decided to take some of my horse stuff to sell . . .

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