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I stopped tossing my head and voicing protests; I let the girl stroke my nose and then slowly ease the halter on. I tolerated the stiff leather and clanking buckles only because hers were the hands putting the halter on me. Because she, heedless of onlookers, had put it over her own, ridiculously short-nosed head first.

I let her adjust each of the straps, fasten the last buckle, and stood for her as if I were tame. When she took the leading-line, still speaking gently to me, I did not try to jerk away. And then I walked with her.