She was a Mustang that roamed free for the first part of her life. Then one day, she and many other horses were, rounded up and sold. They would all one day become rodeo broncs. A long time ago in a big red barn is, where the story of my life begins. The big red barn was set on a hilltop, surrounded by grass so high it would tickle my belly. The trees were so tall they hung over the rooftop. I remember how the morning sun rising above the mountains would make the sky turn bright red. The days started with the allure of new adventures to experience My name is Haystack. I am a horse. I remember playing with Boots the dog and Specs the rooster, behind the barn in the field where my mama, Libby, would watch us. Wesley, my owner, tells the story of the day they were, rounded up, told to him by the old man, who helped in this endeavor. His story went something like this: On the morning the horses were, gathered up the trees were, frozen from the frost; the wind blew so cold, it was like we were at the North Pole. So, rounding up these horses quickly, was the task at hand. We parked our trailers at the top of the canyon wall, in hopes we would find the Mustangs at the bottom of the cliff, warming themselves against the rocks, where the sun had been shining.
