Chapter 4

The next morning, Kim picked me up and we went to Meeting Street Tack. The first thing on our shopping list was a bridle. I picked out a dark brown leather bridle with a beaded turquoise headstall. It looked like it went well with his halter and lead. I didn’t realize that reins were sold separately and I needed those, as well. Then we went to the mystery department.

“You rode him with an eggbutt snaffle bit yesterday,” she said, pointing to one of those. “That might be fine and let’s stick to a snaffle bit. I don’t think you need one of those but he responded pretty well to it. Let’s start with this larger, softer O-ring snaffle.” I gave her my best deer-in-the-headlights look, which wasn’t hard to do.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said.

She looked at me to see if I was joking or not. I tried to look intelligent. “Large twists or small?” she asked.

I confidently said, “Large twists would be best, at least to start.” I didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.

“Good. I think you’re right.” She paused. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“Not even a tiny one.” She laughed.

“Would you like me to put together a grooming kit for you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She laughed again.

“Pick a bag. Wait,” she said and grabbed one that almost matched the headstall, with a turquoise color. “It’s turquoise, not aquamarine, you know.”

“Maveric isn’t me, but we’re close,” I said, and that got a smile.

She explained what each tool was for as she dropped them in my bag. She dropped a comb, hoof pick, curry comb, face brush, dandy brush, and squeegee into the bag. Next up was a bottle of farrier barrier for his hooves, and a spray bottle of fly repellent. We picked up shampoo and a bag of apple treats.

“Helmet?” she asked.

“Do I need one?”

“It’s not a bad idea. Some people think you’re crazy to ride without one.”

“You never wear one,” I answered. “I’ll get one if you do.” We thought about it for a minute, then picked out a couple of helmets. English boots and helmets are shiny black. We found a helmet that was a rough textured brown with a pretty good visor. We took our loot up to the counter.

“Just getting started?” she asked with a smile.

“First time owning,” I said.

“Saddle? Saddle pad?”

“We need a saddle pad and a half pad,” Kim said. That old saddle pad is terrible.” She went to get them while the cashier started ringing things up. “This okay?” she asked, holding up a saddle pad that had that same turquoise western look, and a half pad that looked sort of like fleece. I nodded and she added it to the stack. I ended up spending a lot more than I’d expected, but when I saw the price of saddles, I felt a lot better about it. Saddles can be expensive.

Shopping complete, we drove out to Hope with Horses Ranch. Holly was there again and she knew what we needed. Mom had already paid for the horse but she had needed a day to round up the paperwork.

“Here’s his registration, and I’ve made out a bill of sale, and this is his Coggins certificate,” she said, handing me the paperwork. “Look it over and I’ll answer any questions you have, if I can.”

We sat at the table and I looked at each one in turn. The Coggins certificate was pretty straightforward and so was the bill of sale. I looked at his registration. It had his American Paint Horse registration number, his name, gender, color, and state foaled and foaling date. Both of those were listed as estimates, and they had guessed the date as January 1^st, 1977 in Wyoming.

“He doesn’t have a brand,” I said.

“No, and that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a BLM horse without a brand. Want to hear something interesting? The name Maveric comes from Samuel Maveric. He refused to brand his horses and the name Maveric ended up meaning untamed. He’s unbranded, so the name really fits.”

“I like it. That is so cool. Okay, I really appreciate everything, and I’m glad it worked out. I’m anxious to get out to the Denton’s but we’ll be back to help.”

“I was so concerned yesterday. First, the people in Walterboro cancelled and I was worried we wouldn’t have room. But then, you and Maveric clicked, your mom made a nice donation, and the folks from Aiken had to delay a day. They’ll be here this afternoon.”

“It all worked out. Sweet.”

“He is so ready to ride,” Kim said. I scooped up the paperwork, we shook hands, then hugged, and Kim and I left.

We pulled into the Denton Ranch and parked. We had our hands full with all my new horse goodies. When we got to the stable, Mrs. Denton saw what we were carrying and stepped into her office. A second later, she came back out holding a permanent marker. “Mark it, or lose it, Honey,” she said with a smile.

“You have better handwriting,” I said, handing the marker to Kim. She’d done this before.

While she was marking our new goodies, I went out to get my unbranded Maveric. I stepped into his pasture and waited. He saw me and we looked at each other for a minute. I whistled and he started toward me at a trot. I rubbed his cheek and gave him a treat, then put his halter on and we walked back together.

“He just walks right with you like you’re his long-lost brother. What kind of treats are you giving him, anyway?”

“A carrot. Nothing better than a fresh carrot. Want one?”

“No, silly. Let’s get his bridle adjusted first.”

I watched as she connected the bit and reins, then made the adjustments. She held it up to Maveric and tweaked a little, and proclaimed it good to go. I put on his new pad, then half pad, and then the saddle. I liked to leave the girth fairly loose until I was ready to mount. I put his bridle on and watched him work his mouth to get used to it. Kim made a minor adjustment and we walked out to the arena. I tightened his girth and we were ready to go.

“Do a couple of laps at a walk, then trot. Then let’s see how does on a bit of a challenge course.”

“Hear that, Maveric? You ready to go?”

I mounted, then shifted around in the saddle, getting comfortable. He waited for my cue. I rubbed his neck to let him know I was happy with him and ready to go. “Walk, walk, walk,” I said and he responded to my verbal cue. Some horses are great with verbal cues. It seemed like he was. We walked a couple of laps at a lively pace, then changed to a trot. I found that I could post the trot with the endurance saddle. It was nice to have the comfort of a western saddle without a saddle horn in the way.

I was ready to canter but Kim had moved obstacles out for us so we could practice our cues. We walked around some cones, then down a chute, defined by a couple of rails on the ground. When it was time to back out of the chute, Maveric hesitated for the first time. I gave him a verbal command to back up, pulled the reins, and gave him a “Snick, snick.” He wasn’t sure so I repeated it and he backed straight up. Perfect.

I turned him to continue and praised him. He was doing great. “You’re doing a great job with your cues, Jack. No mixed messages, and he looks really good. Let’s try a couple of low jumps, if you’re up to it.”

We were. We cut the arena in half and took a little twelve-inch jump with no problem. While we circled back around, Kim moved it up to eighteen inches. We cut the arena in half again, and again, he handled it with no problem. “Is that all you’ve got?” I hollered.

“Don’t get cocky, kid,” she said and moved a second jump in place.

Once more, we cut the arena in half, taking an eighteen-inch jump, a couple of strides, and then another. We made the turn and bumped it up to an easy canter. “Saddle up, Kim. Let’s hit the trail.”

“You two look like you’ve been together for years. It’s not fair. Let me go get Diva.”

When it came to grooming and tacking her horse, Kim was a lot faster than me. Maveric and I walked around the arena a couple of times, then out to where the trail began. It was starting to warm up but I knew it was going to be a scorcher by the afternoon. Kim and Diva came out and we’d get to see how the two of them would do together. She pulled up beside me and we started walking together.

Maveric had spent a whole day in the same pasture with Diva but now that we were riding side by side, she was suddenly a stranger. He nipped at her, then threw his head, and I had to hold him back.

“What the heck is going on?” I asked.

“He’s busy trying to be the alpha. It’s a little bit of showing off and trying to establish himself. He’ll probably settle down. Let’s pick up the pace and let them both burn off some energy.”

We picked up a trot, then an easy canter. When we got to the back half, Kim told me to go ahead and we rode single file, letting Maveric take the lead. Now, he was happy. I told Kim we were going to pick up the pace and she gave me the go-ahead. Once around a tight corner, I asked Maveric for some speed and he jumped out to a gallop. I knew the trail and he didn’t but he was happy to run. We came up to the back-end zig-zag and cruised right through it.

I motioned to Kim that I was slowing down. Maveric would have kept on going if I let him. He definitely had a lot more ‘go’ than ‘whoa’ and I liked that. We eased all the way back down to a walk and Kim came up on our left. “Are you going to play nice, now?” I asked and it seemed like he was happy to do that.

“I think that’s just what your speed demon needed. Hopefully, he only needed to do that once. Diva isn’t used to being challenged.”

We kept it slow after that, never going faster than an easy trot. Maveric seemed to have demonstrated his superior horsiness, or whatever he was thinking, and behaved himself. When we finished riding, we hosed Maveric down, shampooed him, rinsed him, and then dressed his hooves with farrier barrier. He looked great. We walked them both back out to their pasture, where he immediately rolled around in the dirt. All we could do was laugh.

“Okay, cowboy, how’s that horse ownership thing going?” Kim asked as we walked back to the truck.

“Funny lady. Should I have known he was going to do that?”

“Yup.”

“Then, I guess it’s going great. Actually, I’m really pleased. He seems super smart. He takes verbal cues, is ready go, and has an easy gait. After he got over a bit of snippiness, he seemed fine. Plus, we got to use almost all the toys in the bag.”

“Saddle still feel comfortable? New bridle and everything seem okay?”

“A bit squeaky with their newness but otherwise, fine. I’m still curious about how he was a BLM horse and escaped having the brand.”

“It’s puzzling. Does he neck rein?” she asked. I knew what that meant. Western horse responded to having the light pressure of the rein on the side of their neck to turn the other way.

“No. I guess I need to teach him that.”

“It’s not hard. One ride, since he’s so smart.”

I didn’t know that much about the whole BLM without a brand thing, but it seemed like a pretty unusual thing. “You know what I’d like to do? I’d like to go to the ranch in Awendaw and talk to whoever worked with him before.”

“It’s not that far. You have it in your paperwork, right?”

“Yes. Think I should call or just drive up?”

“I think you should just drive up. It’s not that far and maybe you’ll meet the trainer that worked with him. I’ve never been to a ranch that was abandoned. Someone will be there, even on a Sunday.”

The next morning, she joined me for a drive up to Awendaw and the Lazy Bee Ranch. I told her my plans for the following week and she said she’d put in some hours at her parent’s office. The week after that was the 4^th of July and we planned to have a party at my house again.

We pulled into a dirt road toward the stables at the Lazy Bee. We saw someone riding a tractor, mowing a large pasture. At least one person was there. We parked and walked into the stable. A short woman, probably in her sixties, was struggling to reach a container from a high shelf.

“I’d be glad to reach that for you,” I offered.

“Thank you. What I could do if I were a foot taller,” she laughed.

“I think the extra cost of my groceries sort of offsets any benefit. Step stools are cheap.”

“And never around when you need them. Tess Murdaugh. What can I do for you strangers?”

“I’m Jack Pierce and this is my fiancée, Kim McTighe. I just bought Maveric from Hope with Horses and was hoping you might shed some light on his past.”

“Oh, my goodness. Maveric. Things have settled down a bit since he left. What would you like to know?”

“He’s been a prince for me but I’d guess I’d just like to know a little background.”

“I’ll tell you what I know. We bought four horses about a year ago. They were all from the Yellowstone area. Their BLM bill of sale said Wyoming but those wild horses don’t know or care where state boundaries are. Wyoming, Idaho, or Montana. They’d probably been to all three. We had a trainer that worked with them. This is all new to you, isn’t it? Pull up a seat,” she said motioning to a couple of rocking chairs. She sat in a third chair.

“We had three trainers working for us. We start green horses, then sell them. That, and people bring horses to us that they’ve failed to start properly. The young gal that worked with Maveric, her name was Susie. She worked with him for a couple of months. The other three did really well, but he was a bit of a rascal. He did everything she asked of him but he was temperamental. He either liked you or he didn’t and if he didn’t, you weren’t going to get much out of him. I see you smiling. You already knew that, didn’t you? He likes you, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, ma’am.” We told her about our experience with him and why Hope sold him for such a great price.

“Sounds like he’s found a good home. Lorraine never met a horse she didn’t like and he’ll do fine at her ranch. What else do you want to know?”

“Not much, I guess. It’s cool that he comes when I whistle. Do you know why he doesn’t have a brand?”

“There’s a story with that. The BLM brands all their horses. I can show you what his brand would look like if he had one,” she said. She walked across the room and came back with a pamphlet. She looked through it and then marked on the back of it. “This big ‘U’ is the BLM code. After that is his estimated birth year and then the range code. They captured him in the Little Colorado Herd Management Area.

“When the BLM puts horses up for adoption, they don’t have names. They have these registration codes. The story goes, that they tried to catch him to brand him, but couldn’t catch the rascal. I wouldn’t want to be branded either. They use freeze branding, so if you’re thinking along the lines of a John Wayne cattle branding, this is easier. He was the only one without a brand so they nicknamed him Maveric.”

“After Samuel Maveric.”

“That’s right. This is what his brand would look like, if he had one,” she said showing me the marks. “Of course, that story might be true and it might not. It was passed on to us when we got him. He’s the only BLM horse I’ve ever seen without a brand and it certainly fits with who he is.”

“It has a ring of truth to it,” Kim said. “Could we speak to Susie?”

“Probably, but you’ll have to go down to Ocala, Florida to do it. She moved a couple of months ago and that’s when we decided to let Maveric go to Hope with Horses. We had seven or eight people look at him but none of them could put a halter on him. Holly took a chance.”

“I guess it worked out because my mom bought him for me and made a donation at the same time.”

“You’ve ridden him,” she said.

“He’s fast. He wants to go.”

“Good. Good. I’d hate to see a good horse go to waste. Had you looked at a lot of horses before you picked him?” Kim and I laughed.

“No. Maveric picked Jack.”

“That fits,” she laughed.

“Anything else, I should know about him?”

“Nope. If he responds to you, I think you’re good. We fattened him up a little when we first got him but he hasn’t been on any supplements. I think the BLM guess on age is pretty close. He verbal cues, but you probably know that. You said that he comes when you whistle. I wish we could have kept Susie but she wanted to go to Florida and when the opportunity came, she took it. Delray Ranch, I think it was. If you’re ever down in Ocala, you should look her up.”

“Thank you, so much,” I said. “I really wanted to just know a little more about my horse and this is all great.”

“Glad to help, and especially happy he’s found a good home. He’s a character. One of a kind. Ya’ll have a great day and feel free to stop in, anytime.”

Kim and I started our drive back home. It was quiet. Every couple of minutes, one of us would start to say something and then start laughing. Finally, Kim managed to get a complete thought out without laughing.

“Oh, my gosh, Jack. What a character. I’m happy for you, and, as much as I love Diva, I’m a little jealous. Do you have any idea how much work went into starting him? I’d love to meet Susie. We didn’t get her last name. She must have spent hundreds or even thousands of hours with him.” I caught her looking at me. “You’re pretty happy about it, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t looking for a horse. I honestly didn’t think I’d get one until after I graduated from college.”

“He was pretty hard to pass up.”

“Impossible.”

“You want to go out and ride again, don’t you?”

“Yup.”

We did. It seems like he realized his pasture partner, Diva, would be a regular riding partner and he didn’t act up. I knew that Kim loved Diva, and I enjoyed riding with her, whether I was on Ghost or Scout. I didn’t realize how much more fun it could be to ride my own horse, especially one with such a fun personality. Kim had her camera with her and she took a couple of pictures of the two of us, then one with Diva and Maveric together. When Mrs. Denton came out, Kim asked her to take one of us with our horses. I couldn’t wait to get to One Hour Photo.

She still had film in the camera but dropped off a roll at the booth on Savannah Highway. We went to a Burger King and had a snack while we waited. “What else do I need to learn?” I asked.

“You’re doing great. Did you feel comfortable at a gallop?”

“It’s a little crazy but I felt pretty good. He’s sixteen hands and has a long stride so I think that makes it easier. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“No, you’re right. Then the stuff you should learn is more horse anatomy and physiology, perhaps some horse first aid and diet stuff. That kind of thing. You need to be there the next time the farrier comes out and really pay attention. Mrs. Denton will keep him healthy and if she thinks he needs something different, she’ll tell you. Good stuff to know, though.”

“But my riding is okay?”

“You don’t know anything about dressage, but your riding is just fine. I’d say you’re an intermediate plus rider.”

“What do I need to do to be an advanced rider?”

“Oh, lord. Experience, Baby. Time in the saddle. Let’s go get some pictures.”

We picked up our pictures and drove to Kim’s house. We found her parents both relaxing in the sunroom. “Hey, cowboy. Heard you got yourself a horse,” Mr. McTighe said with his best western accent, which had a surreal Scottish flavor to it. He folded his paper and motioned for us to sit.

We did and Kim told him about our day at Hope with Horses, Maveric, and our trip to the Lazy Bee Ranch. They asked some questions and when they were done asking, Kim pulled out the pack of pictures.

“He’s just beautiful,” Mrs. McTighe said and Mr. McTighe agreed. When Kim got to the picture of the two of us, they both laughed. “Oh, my word. What a couple of hams. You weren’t out there to shop for a horse?”

“No, ma’am. Just to volunteer. The whole thing was a big accident. He was supposed to go to a ranch out in Walterboro but they couldn’t take him.”

That reminded Kim of a couple of details she hadn’t mentioned, so she explained about his lack of a brand and how he got his name. “When you were galloping, he could have gone faster, couldn’t he?” she asked.

“It was as fast as I wanted to go, but yeah, I’m pretty sure he had another gear or maybe two. It felt like it was really easy for him.”

“I wonder if he’s as fast as Rocket.”

“Rocket’s pretty fast, Kimmie,” Mr. McTighe said. “Sounds like you’ve got as much horse as you need, and perhaps a bit more.”

“I do, and I had no idea it would make me this happy.” Kim got out of her chair, sat on my lap, and hugged me.

“Mom bought him. I want to show her the pictures.”

“Good thing we made doubles. You’re working tomorrow, right?” I nodded, gave her a kiss, and took my doubles home to show Mom and Dane. Mom was happy for me and Dane was duly entertained.

The next morning, I picked up Vince and drove to our working address on Johns Island. Art was just backing the Bobcat off the trailer. We looked at the house and the heavily wooded lot and tried to figure out what we’d be doing. We couldn’t. Art drove the Bobcat around the left side of the house and we followed him.

“Hey, Art,” I said when he shut it down.

“Hola, Gringo, que tal?”

“Bien. You remember Vince from Labor Day, right?”

“Of course,” he said and they shook hands. “The owners are out of town until after the fourth. They want a pond where the flags are, but they also want a walking path to a quiet little garden.”

We walked around the pond, then the path, and where they wanted the clearing. Art and the owner had marked everything with flags. The path was a curvy eighty feet long and the clearing would have been just big enough to park two cars.

“Amigo, the pond needs to be four feet deep on one end and six on the other. He wants to attract different kinds of birds. The dirt should all go right there,” he said, pointing to some flags, well out of the way. If you cut the trees to the width of the skid steer, we’ll pick them up on Friday. I can bring a Ditch Witch on Wednesday, if you want to run the electrical for the pump. Should I do that?”

“Definitely. It won’t take long to do that.” I looked at the layout to see where he would be connecting the electrical. “Franklin and I dug a trench a lot longer than that out on Fort Johnson Road. Two hours, tops.”

“That’s good. Done by Friday, you think?”

“I think so, Art. Unless we run into problems. There’s no underground lines or anything, right?”

“No, Amigo. The owner checked. I’ll leave you to it and see you on Wednesday. Call me or Hector if you have problems or need anything, okay?”

“I don’t think we will, but I’ll call if we do. Thanks, Art, I really appreciate it.”

“No, Mr. Jack, you are doing us a favor. We are very busy.” We shook hands again and he was gone.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Vince asked.

“Definitely, as long as you know how to operate a Bobcat, we should be good to go.”

He gave me an eye roll. He knew how to operate a chainsaw but let me drop trees on the future path. I dropped six of them, checked the chain saw and gave him a quick safety talk, handed over my hearing protectors, hat, and chaps, then went to work digging a pond.

Two hours later, I had dug a shallow outline of the pond and he had cut the trees into bite-sized pieces. I used the Bobcat to move them, then cut another half dozen trees, and went back to the pond. We kept at it until we were both hungry and stopped for lunch. The house had a couple of picnic tables in back and we sat down to eat.

“Dukes of Hazzard?” Vince asked, looking at my lunch box.

“You don’t like Dukes of Hazzard?” I asked, taking out my sandwich and drink, then closing it so Daisy Duke was looking over her shoulder at him.

He saw Catherine Bach’s short shorts and long legs and decided the Dukes of Hazzard was actually pretty good. “So, what’s new?”

“Everybody’s happy that Lani and I are engaged. I think my dad might be the happiest of all. You know what it is? It’s not that he wants to see me play college football, although that would be good. He just wants to know that I’m off on the right foot, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. He likes Lani.”

“Who wouldn’t? She’s been spending a lot of time at the house. She and Dad can talk for hours, playing Gin or Cribbage. What about you?”

“I guess the big thing since school got out is that I bought a horse.”

“What?! You actually bought a horse. No shit. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He asked and I gave him the story. He wanted to see him and we decided to make the short trip to the Denton’s when we got done for the day.

“Time for you to learn how to use the Bobcat. I’ve been sitting down all morning. Your turn.” I showed him the controls and gave him some tips on how deep to dig. Before I turned it over to him, I used it to pull a few roots, then turned him loose. The day went a lot faster with us trading jobs back and forth for the rest of the afternoon.

We stopped at Piggly Wiggly on the way there to pick up some snacks and a bag of carrots. I handed one to Vince, telling him he’d want it later. He was clueless. I pulled into the Denton’s ranch and parked by the pasture. We got out and walked over to the rail.

“Which one is he?”

“Well, he’s sharing a pasture with two mares and you’ve already seen Kim on Diva at the rodeo.”

He took a second look, realizing it wasn’t all that hard to tell which one was Maveric. “It looks like somebody used a bucket of white paint on him.”

“That’s him, alright. He’s a paint.” I stepped between the rails and waited a moment. He looked at me without moving for a moment. I whistled and he came at a fast trot. I loved that. It was like a Roy Rogers trick or something. We walked toward Vince, with Maveric’s head right next to my shoulder.

“Gene Autry had a horse that did that. My dad loved old Gene Autry westerns. Not all horses do that. You knew that didn’t you?”

“Give him the carrot. He’ll be your friend forever.” Vince held out the carrot and Maveric chomped off the end of it. Vince rubbed his cheek, then slipped between the rails and into the pasture.

“He’s friendly,” he said, running his hand down his neck.

“He’s picky about his friends, I think. When Mrs. Denton tried to whistle for him, he turned his back and showed her his butt.”

“Nice. But since we’re friends, he thinks it’s okay.”

“Plus, you have a carrot,” I said as Vince gave him the rest of it. “I haven’t got him completely figured out yet but he seems to really like me and that’s a big deal. They called him Pia at Hope with Horses Ranch because he was a temperamental pain in the ass.”

“Pia,” Vince said, and Maveric stopped chomping on his carrot. “Maveric,” he said and he started chomping again. Vince looked at me to see if I’d seen the same thing.

“Horses are smart. He can hear your heart from four or five feet away. My resting pulse is slow, and yours probably is, too. To him, I think that means there’s nothing to get excited about. I think that’s the first thing that helped us connect. Now, he knows me.”

“That’s crazy. I wonder why that’s so important.”

“Horses are the only domesticated animal whose defense mechanism is to run away. Think about it. Even chickens will try to peck you if they feel threatened. Horses are herd animals and they’re fast. A whole herd of horses can get their hearts in sync and if one of them senses danger, they all respond.”

“Dang, Jack. That’s intense. But since your heart, and probably mine, are slower than most, he doesn’t feel threatened,” he said, taking his pulse. “Seventy-five.”

“We’ve just been walking. Maybe it’s a relative thing. Most people’s pulse is probably eighty-five or something like that.”

“That’s crazy. What else? I bet there’s more to it than that?”

“His ears operate independently and his vision is really good. Kim and I rode together the other day. This guy is fast.” Maveric was done with his carrot. He dipped his head around and found one in my back pocket, pulled it out, and started chomping on it.

“He didn’t seem to have any trouble finding that,” Vince said.

“You didn’t even ask, Buddy,” I said and ran my hand down his neck. I walked back and gave his rump a two-handed scratch. That got Diva and Ladybug’s attention and they walked over to us.

We gave them some attention and when we’d had enough, we slipped back out of the pasture. They walked away and Maveric gave himself another dust bath, rolling on the ground. “Kim and I gave him a bath the other day. We hosed him off, lathered him up, rinsed him, painted farrier barrier on his hooves, and basically beautified him, and he comes out and does this.”

“Children. What are you going to do? How old is he, anyway? And, how old do horses live? I have no idea.”

“He’s five. A lot of people ride their horse when they’re in their twenties. The oldest horse I know of was in her late thirties.”

“That’s a lot older than I thought. Wide range, I guess. This is crazy, Jack. Did you ever think you’d own a horse?”

“Not something that even crossed my mind until I met Kim. Never even thought about it. Now, it just seems normal. Who knew?”