Personal Narrative Essay: The Joy Of Drafting Horse

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Today in school, the new student in class came up to me and asked why I was so sad all the time, so I explained to him how I had lost everything I ever loved. . . . I had grown up on a farm, just me, my father, my mother, and my brother. We had many animals, two cows, three horses, a dozen chickens, and two dogs. Now, out of all of the animals, I loved the horses the most; and out of them, I loved Monkey the most. She was a mix between an Arabian and some kind of draft horse. She was all black, except for a little white star on her forehead. I would feed her an apple every day. Though she was my favourite, I still took care of all the horses, cleaning out the stalls, and bringing them hay. Life was going well, until I turned ten. I still remember

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