A Syrian friend of mine is doing painstaking, courageous and tireless under-the-radar work tracking the remaining Syrian Arabian horses, identifying them, reconciling their registration markings and imprints with the video or photo evidence, and keeping count of what’s in the hands of thugs and militia groups of all kinds and what remains in their rightful owners’ hands. He operates from a Turkish town near the Syrian border, and spends his days on social media liaising with a broader network of informants in the Jazirah (Upper Mesopotamia part of Syria), the area around Aleppo, and the the Euphrates valley. Sometimes I am tempted to write about the details of what he does, and how he does it, because I am just so proud of him, but I won’t, for his sake and for the horses’. I will however work so he and his network of friends get the recognition they deserve. If there was a Nobel Peace prize for horses, he’d deserve it. Many have died from starvation and neglect, some have been killed, but all hope is not lost. Some lines remain, at least for now. Some of those stolen from the farms and the studs and the backyards have survived.