Growing up we lived on a farm and people were always dumping unwanted pets near our house. We even once had a shetland pony show up. That was after a tornado went through but no one ever claimed him. Daddy kept him for years until the grandkids didn't ride him anymore then gave him to a man for his two daughters. We called all the local horse farms but still no one claimed him. Someone had shot him with buckshot so after Momma nursed him back to health that became his name. We know he belonged to someone because he had a clipped mane and tale when he arrived.