The past couple of years have been a crazy ride. At the beginning of June 2018, Blossom and I had a talk; we were both getting a bit lonely. The barn was quiet after losing Honey and I decided to check the website of the kill pen that Blossom and Honey both came from.
Kaufman kill pen, located in Texas, is the end of the line for horses and donkeys that find themselves here. Forgotten by humans, thrown out for many different reasons, these horses (and donkeys) are big and small, thin and fat; they are old and young, healthy and dying. Every color, breed, personality and temperament, the one thing they have in common is they are all on their way to Mexico to face a horrible end to their lives.
As I sadly scanned through the faces of the horses that were on death row, I realized I had to try to save one of them. Not having a clue what buying a horse from a Texas kill pen entails, I contacted a person that had done it before, and she said she would help me. She gave me a quote on transport, OK that’s doable. Scrolling through the sad eyes (they give you no information so it’s only on a picture that a horse is chosen. According the the kill pen, they are all gentle and ridable – Hmmm) A deathly thin bay Arab came onto the screen. She was turned, looking at the camera that was callously taking generic pictures of all the horses that were available. Most wore the same halter, a purple rope that was thrown on one horse, a picture taken and then thrown on the next. Snap snap snap.
Kaufman kill pen, located in Texas, is the end of the line for horses and donkeys that find themselves here. Forgotten by humans, thrown out for many different reasons, these horses (and donkeys) are big and small, thin and fat; they are old and young, healthy and dying. Every color, breed, personality and temperament, the one thing they have in common is they are all on their way to Mexico to face a horrible end to their lives.
As I sadly scanned through the faces of the horses that were on death row, I realized I had to try to save one of them. Not having a clue what buying a horse from a Texas kill pen entails, I contacted a person that had done it before, and she said she would help me. She gave me a quote on transport, OK that’s doable. Scrolling through the sad eyes (they give you no information so it’s only on a picture that a horse is chosen. According the the kill pen, they are all gentle and ridable – Hmmm) A deathly thin bay Arab came onto the screen. She was turned, looking at the camera that was callously taking generic pictures of all the horses that were available. Most wore the same halter, a purple rope that was thrown on one horse, a picture taken and then thrown on the next. Snap snap snap.
I clicked the button and Birdie was safe (or so I thought). As I continued to scroll through the horses that were leaving for Mexico the next day, I came across a little chestnut gelding that had obviously been with Birdie on her journey through hell. How could I save her and not him? Click! Meet Chester!
At this point I was sweating hahahah what the hell had I done! Now comes the part where I can understand why people do drugs: I was addicted to saving these faces, I didn't know how I would make it happen but right now, their time was limited. The next picture that came up was an older gelding (or so we thought) with the sweetest, most trusting face I could imagine. This one I checked with my mother, was I crazy? I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She said I bet your father would do it = Tommy was coming to Maine.
The easy part was done. The days that followed were out of my control, I needed help. What do I do now? A wonderful woman that would become my friend, Linda Simpson, who runs Grey Oaks Equine Sanctuary, a mustang sanctuary in Oklahoma, came to MY rescue. She helped raise the funds to bail out the Arabs minutes before they were to load on the truck headed to Mexico. My rescue friend from Maine assured me that her friend had picked up all 3 horses and they were safe at her ranch in Texas, waiting for transport to Maine on Monday. OK… sigh… just gotta wait now. Funny how things turn in a minute….. I got a message on facebook saying, are you the lady that got the Arabs from Kaufman, hope you are happy, they are going to die because you haven’t picked them up. My heart sank, my mind went blank, I almost couldn’t breathe…. What the hell are you talking about? I called my rescue friend from Maine and I called Linda from Oklahoma…. It is a scary thing to trust people you don’t know, sometimes it works, sometimes you get burned but I had no alternative but to have the 2 of them work together, using their resources (that I didn’t have) and get my 3 horses to safety. I didn’t know where they were, who had them, if they were ok or still in the pens at Kaufman. After hours of calls, messages and quite a bit of money given to a lady who never picked them up in the first place, the Texas trio were at quarantine, safe and sound. These 2 ladies were amazing. I got pictures of them at the facility and finally I could breath.
Once at the Quarantine facility, the Texas trio were fed, watered and their wounds treated. For the first time in months they had full bellies, they weren’t thirsty, they weren’t scared, they slept. At Kaufman, horses don’t sleep, they survive. If they aren’t fighting for food and water, they are defending themselves against the stronger horses that are trying to survive too. It is an awful place to be a horse but enough about that place now, they were safe. The QT told me they weren’t sure the Arabs would survive. If they came down with infections caught at the pen, it might be too much for their system. After seeing the vet on week 4, I was told he believed they had already had every infection possible and lived through it, he said they were healthy but needed weight. Birdie was anemic which was going to delay her wt. gain and Tommy came down with strangles, an infection that is extremely contagious
The days and weeks passed and after 8 ½ weeks, I was ready to bring them home. The QT said they weren’t ready but I believed they were so the original transport was contacted and I was hopeful they would be home within a few days. Little did I know that the girl who had helped me so much before was having a life crisis of her own and that transport was not going to happen (after I had paid for it ugh! I was at a total loss, I felt all defeated and once again had no idea of what to do. So I called Linda Simpson (see why I consider her a friend now ? ) She had me contact a transport that was close to the QT, Bobby Cross from B-C Livestock Transport in Decatur TX. Bobby too is another person I consider a friend that I have made during this trip. He was so reassuring, confident and great with the horses. He said, “Don’t worry, I will get them from the QT barn, bring them to my place, get travel papers and be on our way by the weekend.” I was at a loss for words and ready to trust one more time (I really didn’t have a choice.) I had priced the cost of renting a trailer and going to Texas myself and if there had only been 2 horses, I might have but 3 was too much for me to handle. Bobby came through and on August 12 the Texas trio headed out on a 2000 mile ride north. Bobby and his wife were in contact the whole way, keeping me updated on the horses and their location. On Aug. 14 2018, at midnight, on a very foggy Night they came home.
This was the first morning, it was so foggy and the horses were so tired after their 36 hour trailer ride. They slept and ate all day. I had made them a small pasture out back where it was quiet and they could slowly start the rest of their lives. Blossom was very interested in what was happening in her world.
Blossom stayed in her pasture but the first day the Texas trio went to the big field, she took the opportunity to check out their pasture .
Soon Blossom was part of the herd and people came to meet them and give them all the love they had been missing. Green grass and sunshine were making their coats shine and their personalities bloom.
As the days grew shorter and the nights colder, the Texas trio have made their way into our hearts. Each in their own way have become individuals and part of our daily life and family. Even Blossom has grown to tolerate them (she even loves Chester most of the time)
The only clue we have to Birdies past is a coggins test done late winter in Waco Texas which states the sheriff’s department as her owner, this makes me believe she was taken from someone because of neglect / abuse. The many auction tags that had been glued on and ripped off when she was shoved on to the next stop had left open wounds and glue marks that needed scrubbing even after the weeks in qt. When she stepped off the trailer, Birdie was the saddest droop of a mare I have ever seen. Her head hung and her eyes were dull. For weeks, she ate, not picking her head up until her food was gone. She would “talk” every time I walked in the barn in anticipation of food. It took her longer than the other 2 to turn the corner, partly because of her anemia, partly because she was the oldest of the group at 15. As we got to know her, she started showing her true colors, her princess upbringing. We think she had a stable life early on, she has been ridden, probably shown, and well trained. She knows her manners but sometimes wants to complain if she is asked to do something she doesn’t want to. How she ended up in a situation of starvation and neglect is a story we will never know. Who would keep such a beautiful creature only to starve them to near death.
The entire barn knows not to go near her when there is food around, a quick glance and only the most foolish would dare go close. A swift kick or a lunge with the teeth prove she had to fight to survive for a very long time. She doesn’t like to be fussed over when its meal time but she tolerates it and is getting better, learning that no one is going to take her food, she will never have to fight to survive again and someday she will trust that and although she will never forget, I hope she can let those memories fade. She is the boss of the pasture, although Tommy would like to believe he is, Birdie leads the herd out in the morning and in at night, she has the pick of the hay piles and keeps close to Tommy but always ready to move if someone comes close with a halter.
As the days grew shorter and the nights colder, the Texas trio have made their way into our hearts. Each in their own way have become individuals and part of our daily life and family. Even Blossom has grown to tolerate them (she even loves Chester most of the time)
The only clue we have to Birdies past is a coggins test done late winter in Waco Texas which states the sheriff’s department as her owner, this makes me believe she was taken from someone because of neglect / abuse. The many auction tags that had been glued on and ripped off when she was shoved on to the next stop had left open wounds and glue marks that needed scrubbing even after the weeks in qt. When she stepped off the trailer, Birdie was the saddest droop of a mare I have ever seen. Her head hung and her eyes were dull. For weeks, she ate, not picking her head up until her food was gone. She would “talk” every time I walked in the barn in anticipation of food. It took her longer than the other 2 to turn the corner, partly because of her anemia, partly because she was the oldest of the group at 15. As we got to know her, she started showing her true colors, her princess upbringing. We think she had a stable life early on, she has been ridden, probably shown, and well trained. She knows her manners but sometimes wants to complain if she is asked to do something she doesn’t want to. How she ended up in a situation of starvation and neglect is a story we will never know. Who would keep such a beautiful creature only to starve them to near death.
The entire barn knows not to go near her when there is food around, a quick glance and only the most foolish would dare go close. A swift kick or a lunge with the teeth prove she had to fight to survive for a very long time. She doesn’t like to be fussed over when its meal time but she tolerates it and is getting better, learning that no one is going to take her food, she will never have to fight to survive again and someday she will trust that and although she will never forget, I hope she can let those memories fade. She is the boss of the pasture, although Tommy would like to believe he is, Birdie leads the herd out in the morning and in at night, she has the pick of the hay piles and keeps close to Tommy but always ready to move if someone comes close with a halter.
Chester’s life mimicked that of Birdies for sometime. He too was taken in by the Waco sheriff’s department and entered the auction circuit at the same time as Birdie, however, he did not have the stable early life that she did. He is 6 years old and from what we can imagine, he spent much if not all of his life in a stall. When I saw him on that first foggy morning, I thought Bambi was in our pasture. He had the bone structure of a yearling and no muscle, at all! He seemed to not know how to walk, his front end and back worked separately but…. He was the sweetest, most curious little guy I had ever met. When we found out he was 6 years old, it was unbelievable. He knew nothing… not how to lead, not how to pick his feet up, not how to fight for his food (how had he survived?) He, more than anyone else, has changed the most over the past few months. He can pick his feet up, he can be led, and his sense of curiosity has only gotten stronger. He has also shown the scars of spending his life in a stall, he bites anything and everything he can reach; the stall, buckets, Blossoms butt, me, rope, dog toys, grain bags…. It isn’t aggressive, it is simply been what he has had to do for years to entertain himself. He bites his own legs, much like self-mutilation, its comical and so sad all at the same time. I will not try to stop his cribbing, he needs it for his own sanity but we are working hard on not biting anything living and keeping his mind busy but not overstimulated. Dog toys and anything rubber seems to help in the pasture. His body, although stunted and deformed from lack of nourishment and movement, is changing daily with his ability to run and be a horse. He is developing muscle tone and coordination at the same time his mind is absorbing like a sponge. Chester is always the first one to greet me at the fence, never running away from the halter but always on the lookout for having some fun at the same time.
The last of the Texas Trio is Tommy. When he arrived, his feet were the size of dinner plates, he had scars on his lip, chest and legs and he was beautiful. Although his coggins test said he was from Montana, was 15 and had a brand on his front shoulder, it also said his name was Black Betty. I’m thinking this was not our Tommy since the vet said he was 9, there is no brand and why would anyone have called him Black Betty. Like the other 2, his past will remain there… in the past, but life will move forward for Tommy. He appears, to the outside world, as a quiet, strong mature old guy. In reality, he is scared a lot of the time. He is scared of whips, sticks, being cornered, being away from his herd. He is scared of shavings and the bags they come in, he is scared of trees that creak and most loud things. What he is not scared of is snow, ice, cold, and the dogs. He was definitely somewhere cold since he knows how to break ice to drink and walk slow on the frozen ground. Where ever his life was before, he may never have been loved and brushed because when he is rubbed and brushed now, it is the one time he will stop eating and hang his head and almost moan with happiness. Although he is lame, and will probably never be a horse that can go on long rides, Tommy will always have a place in our pasture to be the toughie that he pretends to be.
When I look in the eyes of any of these animals, I think of what they have seen in their lives, what they have had to endure. I think how scared they must have been at the kill pen just trying to survive. And then I think of Birdie leaning into a neck rub, running like an Arabian princess across the desert; I think of Chester running in the field, being a horse for maybe the first time; and I think of Tommy, not needing to pretend to be brave, not needing to worry about where his next drink might be, of him leaning into the brush, picking his head out of his grain bucket and closing his eyes.
I have no idea what the next 6 months will bring these 3 but I do know they will never have to fight to survive, they will never feel the pangs of hunger in their bellies, they will never wonder if they will be forgotten again.
I have no idea what the next 6 months will bring these 3 but I do know they will never have to fight to survive, they will never feel the pangs of hunger in their bellies, they will never wonder if they will be forgotten again.
Since this post was first made in 2018, the rescue has only grown. Birdie found a home, Pete arrived from a PA kill-buyer, then came Mickey (who has since found his forever barn), and then Molly and Thor. There have been 2 ponies that were surrendered to us and went straight to their new barns without stopping at BRER barn, Luna is in her forever barn and Toby is with a foster Mom (who very likely will be a failure foster - which means she keeps him because she fell in love with him ). Now we have welcomed Ralphie, Red and Charlie, Bella, Chanci, Cocoa, Delilah, Dolly, Jack, Jill, Marley, Remi, Tilly, Ruby, Willow, Ulie, Lark , Alcye and May. PHEW! i think thats all :)