He is as down as I’ve ever seen him. No one was at the hospital with him to hold his hand, no one was waiting for him when he got home, no one tenderly kissed his stitches. By the late morning, two men are at the house attempting, without success, to force Arthur out of the barn and toward a truck and horse trailer. The men, whom I now recognize as employees of the large horse farm in town, are pulling hard on the two lead ropes attached to Arthur’s halter. They succeed only in moving him a few feet out of the barn. Then Arthur rears up in panic, pulling the men with him. I’m torn between willing Arthur to fight this abduction and to surrender peacefully. Sweet, gentle Alice screams for her stablemate from her stall. The dogs, watching from behind the backyard fence, bark continuously at the noise and activity. David turns away from the pandemonium. He doesn’t notice Sally’s car pull up the driveway. Clifford is out of the car in seconds, racing toward Arthur with his eyes squeezed shut and screaming, “They are killing him!
