rescuing strays and orphans

I'm driving through a reseidential neighborhood late at night when I see a flash of white and movement, and there is a horse! running along the road through the front yards, weaving between parked cars-- so I hurriedly pull over and park all cockeyed and scramble out and click my tongue for it-- it's shy and skittish, but it also wants someone, needs someone, so it comes to me eventually-- I gather up the ends of its frayed lead rope and guide it around the houses, looking for where it may have come from. I go into a building with an inner courtyard and apartments winding up off of it through several storeys-- somehow I know the horse has come from here-- I call out, and for awhile no one answers-- then finally a man leans over the banister and sees me below with his horse and comes down-- he says, that's so-and-so, but doesn't seem to want it back-- I ask him, to make sure, and he says, no, take it away with you, please. and there's a long pause while I digest this, and then I say, divorce is hard, I know. I've been through it, too. and he begins to cry-- he says, they just left today-- and I know he means his wife and daughter and that the horse was hers. I reach out and take his hand and say, it does get better, I promise. and he looks at me with a kind of bleak hope, not quite believing-- and then he clears his throat and stands up, and I take the little horse away-- it's just small enough to fit in the back of my hatchback-- really the size of a golden retriever and just as soft and friendly. and it just so happens I have a barn standing empty and ready out behind my house. I think, I'll figure out later what to do with it when I move out in june.

there's a little woolly black dog I rescue, scooping it up and loading it into my car, saying to some other people who want it, too, it's so cute-- well, you may get it yet if I can't figure out how to make george get along with it-- but in my head I'm thinking, I'll figure it out.