Chapter Twelve
Cleansing
Despite the cold, an attentive Miss Evers works Christy into an impressive sweat. Finally, noting the level of exhaustion she unhooks the dressage pole and with a playful but firm slap to the buttocks sends Christy into the house.
Grateful for the relative relief, Christy immediately moves to the laundry room and kneels over the drain, humbly awaiting her bath.
While Miss Evers returns the whip and pole to the shed, I am given the opportunity to assess the head bridle more closely.
There is no doubt the collection of leather straps, buckles and grommets is designed for the human beast. The head of even the smallest horse would not fit into the confines. Plus the eyelet at the top when stressed cruelly drives the nostril inserts into the sinus cavity, bringing
