The days and nights in January in Grado del Pico are cold and bitter. The low temperatures have no mercy on man or beast. And indeed, the elements did not have clemence on the mares that had once belonged to the family from foreign parts. They continued to wander from one frozen field to another in search of food and fodder. But the winter in those parts of Spain does not forgive. It is cruel and callous, and at night its frosty fingers pass over the land, covering it in a stiff white sheet, destroying anything that may have remained from the warm, sunny days of summer.
The mares, realising that Mother Nature was not going to provide for them, clipped clopped backed to the village. The four kindly neighbours, seeing the state the animals had been reduced to, hastily provided them with what they could. But we all know the saying to eat like a horse and nothing seemed to help pile on the kilos that the four mares had shed.
After much worry and discussion, the four neighbours called in the civil guards. They in turn consulted the council in Ayllón who immediately decided that the beasts would come under their authority.
Now the clip clopping of the hungry mares can no longer be heard echoing in the empty streets of Grado del Pico.
And still there is no news from the family from foreign parts.