Hank had been running loose on the highway for a week already by the deputy sheriff contacted us, asking for our help.  They didn't mention over the phone that not only was he wild, and running loose, but ungelded, to boot.  (We named him "Hank" because he liked "the hanky panky" so much.)  I didn't have any volunteers to help that day; so, I enlisted the help of the kind folks in whose yard he had parked himself.  We got him haltered, taught to lead, taught to load, and safely loaded into the horse trailer inside of three hours, which, for an ol' cripple like me, I considered pretty good.  I never even unloaded him before I took him straight to the vet's.  He had such a huge, horrible, gaping hole in his hip I feared the veterinarian would tell me right then and there that euthanasia was the only solution. Thankfully, he did not.  Knowing me, that I would be scrupulous with my nursing care,  the vet felt he had a chance, and, after half a year of intensive doctoring, the wound has indeed healed with barely a scar.  He is completely sound!  We have begun training him and he has a tremendously nice temperament.  He is smart and forgiving and placid.  He stands 13.3 h.h.:  I wonder if he hasn't some Welsh Mountain Cob blood in him?  We expect to have him under saddle by Thanksgiving.  He is going to make somebody an ultra-nice large hunter pony!