My name is Presto and my mom says I need a job. 

She’s not my real mom but thats not what I’m supposed to write about today. I’m supposed to write about who I am. 

My name is Presto and I like to call myself ‘the horse who lived.’

Mom has an audio book she listens to when she is in the barn and the story is about ‘the boy who lived.’ 

My name is Presto and I write blogs.

He can’t remember his parents and neither can I.

He has a lightning scar on his forehead. I have a scar on my forehead.

He does magic and my name is Presto.

As you can tell, we are practically the same. 

Well, except he’s a boy and I’m a horse. 

I’m supposed to include my age: 15 months.

My best friend: Lincoln.

My favorite thing: green grass. 

My least favorite thing: horse flies. 

Mom says I should tell you that you can write back. 

I have to write again next week (she’s making me do this)

The horse who lived,