It is humbling, I think, after all we've done to horses over the millenia, that there are still so many who regard us with a kind eye, who offer complete strangers an ear to scratch, a neck to stroke. Who will share breath with a random person who is horse-deprived. I am grateful.
I was so overcome by getting to pet horses that I neglected to do any sort of documentation (when in museums I try to take a pic of the labels; then I don't have to remember anything!). This lovely girl's sign said she is an "old-style Morgan." She seemed tiny, after the draft horses we'd seen before.

Another lovely girl. I think I read what her sign said, but I don't remember a word (other than her gender).

There was also a beautiful gray Arab mare, who particularly enjoyed ear scratches, but I didn't get a decent pic of her.
This little one was there for the gawping public to view, but was in the back of the stall having some not-touched time. Not a terribly interesting image, I fear -- a brown study....

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