A few months into my second recovery, I found Tower in the stall next to me. I was surprised and worried, but he told me he wasn't injured. I found out that our Miss Charlotte, who had been old to begin with, had died after a heart attack at the age of 94. She had her heart attack after one of her other horses, who was a long shot of 98-1, came back and won a minor stakes race. Both of us were pretty sad. I was pretty much recovered by then, and we were loaded onto a van and taken to a big wooden place. Tower and I decided to mark each other so we would always know each other. Tower bit me right below my left shoulder, and I bit him in the same place. It was an odd place for a bite mark on a horse; neither of is had seen it before on another horse. Tower was taken away, and we neighed goodbye. I freaked out and reared in my stall, but no one brought Tower back. And so my best friend was gone.

After a while, I was led out of my stall in the same direction as Tower. I thought that maybe I would see him again, but I was wrong. I was led into a wood-floored, roped-in circle. There were people standing on the other side of the rope. A man started talking really fast, and eventually summer banged down, causing me to rear in fright. I was led out of the ring and to a trailer.

We drove for hours in complete solitude, given there were no other horses in the trailer. When I was unloaded, it was dark. And so I passed from one owner to another, and a new chapter of my life began.