IM JUST SAYING HOW AWESOME IT FEELS TO NOT BE THE OBLY ONE WHI KNOW SOOO MUCH ABOUT HORSES I EVEN OWN ONE! Eeeee! That is all.

Um, I apologize, but I have no idea what a hot wire is. I am pretty familiar with horses, but that one flew right past me. I love the story so far!
Thanks.

I grumpy u won't continue with ur own stories instead of suggestions I like that ur doing then I just wish u would've finished ur story first

Oh my gosh I don't know wherever start. Amazing story! When I read the description in the first place it made me laugh because it was very weird and well, original, but I gave it a chance and you see, I have been the whole afternoon and part of the night reading on fire! Non-stop! It's one of the most original and touching stories of this fandom. Now I can't stop crying! At first it was amazing and funny 'cause of the originality and now I'm finishing my kleenex box! You are really good!
I feel so humble telling you this, but thank you for this story. I still can not believe how touching it has become! I didn't expect anything so deep.
Oh yes! Congratulations! Of course! xD
Keep writting! You are really good at it!

Good day! (:

As a fan of both Sherlock and horses, I thought this fanfiction was a stroke of genius, I can't believe no one thought of this before. The accuracy in the horses' portrayal was incredible. Please would you consider writing a sequel for all of us readers? 3

OH! This is the most unexpected Sebastian Moran I have even seen! Very good story, although I still prefer the human Holmes brothers.

It's kind of interesting how Molly is a 'good' influence on Sebastian and how he is really nice so far.

Final chapter! Thank goodness we never had a cribber, our stable did have lots of marks from previous tennants that did. That goofy mare did eat our fences on occasion- crazy thing.
Having Seb be the one to disappear for years was an interesting and welcome story element!

There's no feeling in the world like feeling that you let your horse down. The Indian pony Astro came to us as a scared and abused four year old. It took two years of tlc and training to do anything with him. B he became a good steady, reliable horse that I rode with a hackamore. When we moved I left him with family. Two weeks later he was struck by lightening. Every day I can't help but think I made the wrong decision.

On a brighter point: I would love to draw some art for your story! I love drawing horses. So we've got a flea-bitten grey of about 15 hands, and a tall, like 18 or 19 hands, black with a coronet on the fore right, correct?

Long had I wondered if John was a gelding or stallion. I only rode a stallion a few times. One of my brothers worked on a ranch where traditional Mexican rodeos were held. He worked as well as rode in them, so when he wasn't riding I kept his horse warmed up for him. The stallion was so quiet that I thought it was a mare at first. Dad was mad he'd put me up there with no helmet. But that horse didn't even flinch when a train went right past us.

Ah mud...all five or our six were always covered in the stuff. My morab I swear was part pig or something! My sister's grey fjord/Arab cross was always matted with it. Astro my Indian pony would roll in mud, let it dry and then rub it off in hay to groom himself. The mare and our huge quarter horse were always caked (and she had such a thick mane and they were so big it was a pain to groom them). The only one who stayed clean was Sundance the mustang. He was a lot like Sherlock in that he hated being dirty.
He actually slipped once like John when playing chicken with a tree in the middle of winter. He tried to turn, slipped and skid into the tree royally messing up his right hind leg at the knee joint. We were told to put him down (he was two! Not even broke!) and mom said no and fixed him up. Now he is a dressage champion!

What about Red Pollard, Seabiscuit's jockey, he was rather on the tall side. I know, just the exception, not the rule.
John...there you go again reminding me of Sundance with removing boards and just waltzing around the ranch.
Good old bombproof Lestrad! That's my old morab (Blue Moon) to a T. I used to shoot guns and bows from his back, race him, use spears to pop balloons, anything. Nothing phased him. I used to sleep curled up with him on cold days.
I wouldn't say steeplechasing is like a cross country race. There really are equestion cross country races. I of say it's more like a track race with hurdles.

Ah drafts, I've met some good ones. Rode a sweet pibald filly once. My dad's mare on the other hand...dumb as bricks and flighty as a thoroughbred. She was sweet though and just as attached to my mom's mustang as Sally is to Anderson. Those two were inseparable.

I am loving this story! I miss the ranch we used to have and this just brings back all the happy memories. Nothing is a beautiful as watching horses playing in the padock. My dads mare- Star used to get stuck when she rolled and the lazy thing would stay laying on the ground to eat all the grass in reach.

I wonder though, since John's leg is such a bother if they would give him cosequin to help with it. It helped our two geldings with bad knees.

19 hands? Holy smokes that's a tall horse! My dad's mare was 18 (belgin/ tenni walker) and massive, can't imagine adding another four inches to her.
I'd much prefer my good solid morab to any flighty thoroughbred thank you very much, short as he was (14.3)