Out of the three I chose him to become mine. We had the farrier work diligently on his feet, which took nearly two years to completely fix. In the following months he put on weight and his coat shed out, losing that dingy half burnt color, and he began to blossom. To the naked eye he was not the most impressive specimen of a horse. When calm he looked like a sweet, adoring horse, but relatively plain in appearance. However, give him some sun, and watch him when he got fired up and he could rival Flame, the Island Stallion.
He was one of the most talented jumpers I have ever sat on, but also one of the scariest. He had a habit of stopping at funny looking jumps, then taking off when he decided they were nothing to fear. He did this once at an oxer set at two and a half feet high, and how he managed to clear it I still don't know.
He could be on or off. When he was on he could easily perform better than any other horse that shared the ring, but when set off it was my job to see how long I could stay on to keep him calm. We found out that he liked routine and seemed most comfortable when he could have me standing at his head.
Trading Places was without a doubt one quirky horse, but he was my horse and my friend. My Big Red.