tonight I met a wonderful man. he was a cowboy, but kind of gentle.. he didn't believe in forcing anything but he had no problem letting a horse fight its self. He came to take my free to a good home little paint weanling. She was too much for us and too wild for me to tame alone. he lived in an awesome horsey area, had been looking for a bald face paint for three years and found mine. he had to rope her, but since my catch pen is pretty safe it was all fine. she fought hard but finally put the halter on and got her leading in the pen. he would have gotten her loaded JUST FINE if she had not slipped on the ( i really want to use a horrible word here) stall mat. She went down ( for the 3rd time this evening) and fell funny. she broke her fetlock joint and her foot was at a 90 degree angle to her leg, with bone showing on the bottom. We euthenized her and the worst part was seeing this man, his friend and my friend whom i called over to euth. her bawling like little girls. it proved to me ( i still have yet to cry, i think i'm numb) that some decent people still exist. he took her home with him to bury. which i think proves he's an exceptional human being. most people would say she's my problem since he hadn't bought her yet. did i wait too long to find her a home? i've only had her about a month... so i was trying to gentle her down... she would let me pet her and ate from my hand. . .