True story: I used to have a big Westphalian stallion (which is a kind of German warmblood) that I taught how to rear when I was in the saddle. I thought this was great fun until one day he decided to do it when I didn’t ask him to. I had a long way to go before I hit the ground and the last thing I remember was my nameplate on the back of my saddle getting smaller and smaller before the lights went out.
I'm about as tall as a shotgun, and just as noisy.
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I have a Twitter. I know more about politics than you, but you're welcome to try me. Submit