Culpepper woke up and snorted. The big day, the Grand National.
He wasn't feeling his best, but he'd overheard his owners and trainers saying that if he didn't win this race, that was it - he would be on the scrap-heap, good for nothing but glue.
Culpepper heard the stable door being opened, saw the silhouette of the groom entering. He took his chance. Rearing up on his hind legs, he careered towards the groom, knocking him to the ground. Culpepper exploded out of the stable, exhilarated; bounding over the fence, he took off over the fields.
Free at last.