I met Whiskey in the Spring/Summer of 2016.  He was just another horse in the pasture, but one that caught my eye by his willingness to follow me along the fenceline.  Most horses don't give a shit, you know?

After my miscarriage in Spring of 2017, I asked my barn manager to reach out to his owner to see if I could start working him.  She rarely came out and by that time I'd fallen in love with him.  After I started working him, she tried to sell him to other people, but they declined and offered him to me.

Mother's Day 2017, I signed the contract (that I wrote) to be his new owner.  The serendipity of the timing was not lost on me.

From what I've been able to glean of his history, he was actually owned in the city which my husband and I grew up in, Augusta.  He was rescued from that situation by the lady I purchased him from.  His owner at that time, in Augusta, was overwhelmed with life and wanted to have him euthanized, albeit less than humanely.  She stepped in.  And then I stepped in.

He doesn't seem to know much about being a riding horse, but that's fine by me.  In every regard that he's similar to his older brother, he's equally dissimilar.  He is, by far, the most affectionate horse I have ever met in my life.  He gives kisses.  He licks.  And where his brother will tell me to fuck myself, Whiskey will try his damnedest to figure out what it is I'm asking.

My hope is that Whiskey will formally take me into the eventing world.  Even if we don't get that far, he's got a permanent home with me.