"There's a WHAT in my boots?"

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Awhile ago, I heard of an abandoned horse in the Midwest. "Are you lost, horsie?"   Its lousy  owner should've faked it and posted 'Lost Horse' signs around town -- for appearance sake, no?  But that would've defeated the purpose:  "Hey, we found your horse!"  Oh... Which leads me to ask: How exactly do you abandon a horse?  How do you pull that off?  Do you park it on somebody's porch,  hang a sign around its neck that reads "Surprise!"?  My paternal -- and cowboy  -- instincts kicked in and I figured that poor horse needed a loving owner.  "Hey, that could be me..."  Why not?  I can't get bowlegged at age 30, right? (that's my story and I'm sticking to it)  There are lots of positives to owning a horse... "Bye-bye, gas station!"  From what I understand, it's the closest thing to riding in a convertible... Now, if I were to turn 'cowboy,' I'd have to wear boots -- again.  But that's okay, as people close to me know I have a special relationship with boots (stop snickering -- immediately!).  I wish I could share my boots story with everybody, but I just can't...  I really shouldn't.  I -- OKAY, I'll CONFESS: I  WAS 'SMART' ENOUGH TO WEAR BRAND NEW BOOTS TO DISNEYLAND FOR GRAD NIGHT, OKAY?! -- SO SUE ME!  IT WAS THE MOST MISERABLE NIGHT OF MY LIFE!  YEAH, I PRODUCED MORE CORNS THAN THE ENTIRE STATE OF IOWA! I -- okay... there, I feel a whole lot better... Now, where was I...?  Oh yes... the abandoned horse.  Maybe I'll start off slowly... Good idea, yes... I'll take my time, try the merry-go-round first... "Giddyup! -- faster!"