I never thought I’d be part of a daring rescue that day. It started out a pretty average day: I organized the spell room, wrote a school paper on dragons, and washed the dishes. I even walked the neighbor’s baby Pegasus, or Pegggababy. I always wanted a Peggababy of my own to love and play with.

As I daydreamed of Peggababies, my parents announced they would take me to traveling fair as a treat for getting my chores done so early.

At the fair’s gate, I was greeted by a cluster of fairies. My parents paid the admission price, while I stared delightedly at everything around me. I saw some performers practicing invisibility spells on volunteers, a woman selling shoes that fly, and many other fantastical festivities.

I approached a booth labeled “Peggababies,” expecting an adorable sight, but what I saw chilled my blood. Poor, skinny Peggababies were crammed by the dozen into small cages, whimpering and whinnying in distress. I saw a spotted Peggababy looking at me, begging for help. My stomach churned, and I felt sick. How could people be so cruel? It was criminal to keep animals in such horrible conditions. They were panting in the extreme heat and looked emaciated. Worst of all, I felt helpless knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I was just a kid!

That’s when I had an idea. My heart pounding, I snapped a couple pictures of the horrible sight and sent them in to the local newspaper. If enough people saw what was happening, someone would have to take action.

A couple weeks later, I was notified by a messenger bird that the SFPAPR (Society for Peggababy and Pegasus Rights) was coming to rescue the Peggababies after my pictures in the paper had caused an outcry. I was elated. I had helped in the rescue!

With my parents’ permission, I adopted one of the rescued Peggababies: a little spotted one with a tendency to tumble over her own hooves and chase her tail. I named the curious Peggababy Sprinkles. Now I walk my own Peggababy every morning.