I didn't need to buy a horse. I have enough friends who have "spares" that I could ride whenever, so I was not looking to buy one of my own. I guess fate had other plans.
The first time I saw his picture, he was dirty, skinny, and his nose was running. He had scars all over his face. His coat was so dull that I thought it was grey, not palomino. He was in an auctionhouse waiting to be bought up by a kill buyer and then shipped off to a slaughterhouse. I didn't see all the dirt and grime, all I saw was his kind eye. I felt connected to him.
But what kind of idiot buys a horse that they don't even need from an auction like that, knowing nothing about him. I worried over it for days as I watched to see if someone else would buy him. I would look at his picture 20 times a day. Finally, someone from a rescue posted that they were taking him in. I was relieved that he was safe, but sad that he wasn't mine. Even though I still didn't want a horse.
So, I called up the rescue and offered a donation for him. Least I could do, right? One thing led to another and I was driving an hour to go visit. Then they let me name him. 30 days later when quarantine was up, he was on a trailer headed home. To me.
I guess I really did want a horse after all.