I seem to recall this very thing happening some years ago with a little, fat, white pony.
Barely nanoseconds after dragging ourselves out of a potential financial mess, we buy a horse.
I did my level best to play grumpy head-of-the-house-breadwinner and said "NO" to this purchase for a whole three weeks, but there was one overwhelming reality which I could not shake, and that was:-
I. Love. This. Animal.
Firstly, not being a snooty little high-bred pony (yes you're beautiful Opal and we love you but you're a snob), she actually comes over to you when you jump into the paddock.
She's part Arab (no jokes please, we will get along just fine. Besides, she hasn't said anything remotely antisemitic yet). A strapping lass, athletic, but without looking like an oversized greyhound. She solicited comments from impressed observers at Omi's first Pony Club ride, one day after we collected her, at how cooperative and responsive she was, even with her new unfamiliar rider.
She takes bridles and saddles without the slightest fuss. There was nought but placid ambivalence from her while a farrier hammered away at her feet, which made me almost oblivious to his bill.
Yep. I purchase cars, motorbikes, even houses, and they will break down or misbehave. And I'm supposed to know a thing or two about those thingies.
But me, I can buy horsies good I can.