Don’t beat a dead horse

Daisy Ann. That was the name of my horse. She was a bay — reddish-brown with shiny black feet, mane, and tail. She was giant. Baw* let me name her. We'd ride Daisy Ann through the woods, and Baw would pull off a branch of huckleberries for me to eat while we rode. On we'd … Continue reading Don’t beat a dead horse