We asked the question frequently….”Where is Wallace?” In keeping with our practice of saving just one more, we said yes to Wallace, sight unseen. He was at a livestock auction that sells horses by the pound almost exclusively to kill buyers. We had already said yes to a slaughter-bound mini and her foal. Our hauler and rescue colleague, Marlene, previously sent a half dozen grainy photos of the desperate little duo, and although she claimed that the brown pony was captured in the shot….he was nowhere to be found. Not in the auction yard photos depicting the terrified cluster of horses, including our little Trinket and Penelope. Not in the photos that Marlene sent once our new little ones were loaded….and not a single image of him in the few photos that she took through the slats of the trailer at the rest stop. We kept asking, “Where is Wallace?”, and even when the trailer pulled into our driveway, it was Trinket and Penelope who emerged first, and only after quiet coaxing did the small brown pony hesitantly show himself, the auction number hot glued to his thin neck. He appeared a few shades deeper than just terrified. He walked as if he had been living with fear and uncertainty for a very long time. He shrank from our touch, cowered when we groomed him, and in the beginning could not even find simple pleasure in an outstretched hand holding a treat. Today, our little Wallace has a new number….a rescue number. He also has an address, a red bucket of his very own….and a promise. Wallace is safe, and we promise that he will stay that way!