This is the first thing that jumps out of people’s mouths when they are introduced to Exavior, usually shortly before, “What possessed you to buy him?”

And yes, people, he is going to be big. By my standards, the dude is already pretty freaking big. I just measured him over the weekend and discovered that my rising two-year-old stands half an inch shy of 15.2 hands. I always used to console myself with, “Well, he’ll be tall, but he’ll be a lanky thing,” until I compared the width of Exavior’s legs and chest with that of a three-year-old warmblood who is already about 16.1. Exavior looks like a carthorse next to him. He’s going to be kind of a tank, and I’m never going to be anything other than a toothpick. A short toothpick. We’ll make quite the pair.

He’s starting to look rather more regal and rather more like he might turn out to be a horse someday rather than the funny little hybrid llama-donkey thing that all yearlings look like. Well, apart from his hair, obviously. He’s a bit of a yak right now.

Most amazing of all, praise the Lord, his “ruined” leg is not just sound – it’s growing sounder. His near hind fetlock was twice the size of the off hind; it wasn’t hot or painful, but it was massively thick. Now, as you can see, there’s hardly a noticeable difference between the two joints. His pasterns have also straightened out some, and he doesn’t stand cowhocked so much anymore. He still has a bad habit of standing straight with one leg and completely crooked with the other while he’s resting, but he still moves straight, which is the main thing.

Oh, Lord, I can’t wait to see what You have planned for Your miracle horse and me. He shouldn’t be sound but he is. He shouldn’t be with me but he is. He shouldn’t be thriving but he is. He shouldn’t be alive but he is. We shouldn’t be bonding but we are. Bring all the more glory to Your amazing Name through us, Sir. Amen!