When Opportunity Knocks

“Y no cookies??!”

About a week ago, Colter’s owner approached me and offered to sell me the big, goofy horse. I sort of stared at him and said something about it depending on the price.

Which it does. In a major way.
See, while Colter is a very, very nicely bred fancy Oldenburg who I know very well, he is also extremely inexperienced for a horse of his age (around 10). I can’t justify purchasing him for an extravagant amount. 
His owner (who is a super nice person) didn’t give me a price. I get the feeling he’d just as soon give me the horse, just to have its expenses out of his hair; I don’t think that will happen, though.
Colt’s owner’s mother (who is also my boss, to make things more convoluted) bred about a zillion warmbloods from her off-the-track Thoroughbred broodmares back in the early 2000s. When Colt’s owner graduated from law school, he was given his pick of the babies to take as a gift. He ended up with a talented mare, who was quickly sold to a buyer in Latin America. He selected Colt as his next prospect. Colt was a two year-old by the illustrious Wradar and out of a big chestnut mare named Cherry Ice (who is still hanging out in the paddock across from Colt’s). Cherry Ice (reportedly) was the best of the broodmares, consistently producing high quality, athletic sport horse foals. Colt’s owner sent him off for training and subsequently became very busy with his law practice and growing family. And so Colter languished in a pasture for years, terrorizing the other horses and most humans who came to feed him.
So while Colt is a 10 year old with the mind of a 3 year old, I think his owner will consult with my boss on what the horse should be sold for; I’m afraid that she’ll be a little biased toward the horse and will suggest some totally insane amount that I cannot afford. 
Now, if I can manage to sell Gina for at least what she was purchased for, I will be in some shape to make an offer on the big red goofball. 
In the mean time, I’ll content myself with the current arrangement and dream of what I could do were he mine.

Author: Stephanie

Equestrian, amateur cook, people person.

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