A Girl and Her Horse

I remember the events following up to something that would change my

life for the better. I was reffered to a horse rescue in New River, Arizona. I had
wanted to do my Gold Award that invovled animals. After meeting with the owner
and seeing the place, I had decided that I would clean out the upper pasture and
install a water line system. For the next six months, not only did I complete my
requirements to earn the award; I also helped out on the rescue. I did anything
from pick axing the dirt to shoveling poop, from raking to groom, I did it all.
The winter was almost ending and the days became warmer. I was at a
local horse rescue, ready to walk one particular horse that I had been working
with for the past few months. Her name was Graice. A pure foundation quartar
horse with a pure black coat and no markings. I could have done anything with
that horse. She walked with me on trails, groom and stood. When I arrived at the
pasture, she was not there. I ended up finding her tied to the stall just standing
there. The look in her eyes was "HELP ME HELP ME" ! I knew what was to
follow after I saw her and several other horses in the Main Barn. Everything
screamed training. I am not talking about the kind of training where the horse is
gradually taught. I am talking about the cowboy ways. The whole breaking a
horse in one day kind of training.
I stood there and watch as the so called trainers, round penned, saddled,
lunged, wrangled, and ponyed her all in half a day. The trainer said that she was
a slow learner, but I knew better. In fact, Gracie learned rather quickly for a two
year old. After that, I went to the office of the rescue to turn in an adoption form,
only to be rejected based on my age. Even though I have been around horses,
can care for one and willing to pay the $2300 for her. In the owner's eyes, I was
too young to take care of a horse, non the less a three year old. The days that
follow was toutre as I watched Graice, Sweet little Graice, become more and
more ill mannered. Everything I had done with her was gone. She no longer
wanted to get out and go for walks, heck she did not even want to come to me
anymore. It broke my heart just as the had broke her.
As the days followed, it was random meeting and discussions as my
mother had made arrangements for her adopt of Princess, our four year old,
palamino, quartar horse. I remember the date of when the rescues owner said
something about a horse Meg, a border and fellow volunteer, had mention that
need saving from the slaughter house. She gave us the number, and we called
later that day. The next day, we went out and took a look at her. Driving up on a
cloudy day, the place seemed to have a depressing setting. As we looked for the
horse with description of: No name, sorrel with markings, 13 year old, and about
15 hands; it was easy to find her, being that there was only four other horses in
the barbed wire pasture. Within the fencing, was three large truck tire with old
rotting hay, three barrels 3/4 way full of cement with either no water at all or black
water. The ground was uneven with horse poop every, surrounded by rocks and
shrubs. We ended up using carrots as bait in order to put a halter on her and
walked her to a large stall. It took almost an hour for her to calim down long
enough for us to see her. She had a swayed back, matted and clotting fur, barely
no tail or mane, horrbily altered overgrown hooves and slightly piegon toed in the
front. Over all, there was nothing wrong with her besides the way over grown
hooves and the showing of ribs and hips.
When she calimed down even more, I got to handle her. I took the lead
line and let her walk/trot around me while she was calling to the herd. It took her
a will to calim down enough for our horsewomen to really look at her. She said
there was nothing wrong, except that no one knew what she was trained for
besides the obvious breeding. I remember the frist time she looked at me. I had
said Hoo, and put a hand on her cheek. She flinched at me touch, stop and
stared. Thinking about that moment, I swear she was looking into my soul and
just knew that I was different. As briefly as that moment had come, she went
back to fussing. I decided to unclip the leas line and ler her continue to troat and
calling. By the time I had goten out of the stall, the sun was setting.I felt bad for
leaving her there in a panicy state, and driving away. Nothing about the horse
stuck out to me. She needed a lot of maintance and care that was for sure.
I spent the whole night trying to decide if I really wanted her or. So time
during the night I had fallen asleep only to be woken up by my sister jumping on
me. I had forgoten that was the day of the volunteer lunchen at the resue. It was
also the say the truck was suppose to pick up that nameless horse to be taken
down to Mexico for slaughter. The day could have not passed by any more
slowly than it had. I was still trying to decide if I really wanted her or not. During
my thoughts, my mother interuped asking if I really wanted her. My answer was
not what I had expected nor was it really an answer at all. All I said was sure.
With that my mother pulled out her phone and called the number. We sat there
bartering about price for Nameless. The current owner was asking $500 for her,
but with her current condition; I was only willing to pay $400. After much
dissucion, he finally agreed to the lower price on the condition that I had to come
and get her.
After my mother had hung up the phone, I was strangely over joued. I also
kept bugging my mom to and ger her that day but she said it will have to wait. Yet
another restless night had come. The next day was a little busy in the morning.
We had to to the a couple different banks to pull the money out. After that, we
went off to get the barrowed tailer and wait for our witnesses to the event to
arrive. There was five of us that day, Feburary 16, 2009. My mother, sister, Lexi
(friend), Susan ( rescue owner), and myself. When the trailer was all hooked up,
we sent off. It was late afternoon when we had arrive, and lucky enough it was
the end of feeding time. My mother went to go halter her, and this time is was
easy. However, getting her into the trailer was a different story.