Work Text:
Donald’s POV
Donald would always remember the first time they met.
From the moment he laid his eyes on Bubba, he knew his life would never be the same again. His beautiful black eyes and his beautiful brown tail.
Donald tried to visit Bubba as often as he could. He would stroke his mane, feed him carrots, and talk to the horse. He knew that Bubba was a horse and probably couldn't understand him, but sometimes he felt like Bubba did understand.
Like they had a connection…
A powerful connection that nothing could break.
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Bubba’s POV
Bubba liked the orange man. He came by often; he would feed him carrots, stroke his mane, and talk to him. Bubba always listened. He liked the way the orange man talked—his raspy voice and the hand thing he did. It was intimate in a new way for the horse.
Bubba kind of liked it, the feeling in his stomach; it was a warm feeling.
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Donald’s POV
Donald as ben meting Bubba serveras Times a week, and now he fels like he neds to face his felinges.
He loves Bubba.
Donald Trump loved bubba, it's as simpel as that, but it relly isn't. Donald had a wife (he relly did not like his wife she cold die for all he cared) and five kids. (There are so meny of them, he dose'nt even remember there name at this point)
He cant just leave to be whit a fucking horse. Haw wold that look, him leasing his wife so he cold blow a horse.
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Still Donalds pov
But one night there was a party and he got a litle drunk and desided to do something abote his fealings for Bubba. So he went to Bubbas Stable whit a few other people.
Long story short he blew Bubba