babies, just playing in a field burning a hole in their pockets. The herd came all the way from Alberta on a livestock truck, taking half the horses to Saskatchewan, and the other half to Ontario. On the way over, truck drivers would stop at rescues and sell some of the horses and their babies to better homes. The ones that were left over, came to the St. Jacobs auction. The little filly was then separated from her mother, who was no longer useful and was old and weak and sick. She was sold to the meat man, leaving the little filly all alone in a big scary auction house. By this time, the filly was 8 months old and growing like a weed! A Mennonite boy saw her and all her potential and bought the little filly and brought her to a farmer he knew of so she could stay safe there until she found a permanent home. The farmer and his wife did not like animals. The little filly was kept in a small indoor pen in a dirty barn, her stall was dark and damp, she was surrounded in her own feces and had limited food and water. A nearby horse rescue heard of the awful conditions these horses were in, and immediately tried to find them new homes. One of the rescue people had seen me ride before and a little while later, the little filly was mine. Her name was now India, and she had a loving and carefree home where she could run outside and be the baby she never got to be. This is where our story begins.
Thursday 10 October 2013
The Story Begins
The history of India begins July 2012. Born on a PMU (pregnant mares urine) farm, a little black filly with a white blaze on her nose was born. The filly was in a herd with over a hundred horses and their newborn foals just born in the sunny July heat. Little did they know their fate was dark. PMU horses are called 'broodmares', which means that their only job, is to keep having babies over and over again until they can physically have no more. This filly's broodmare was draft. Big and strong and nurturing towards her little baby, protecting and feeding her like all mothers do. One day, when all the foals were growing up and no longer relied on their mothers as much, the farmers realized that all their herd was now useless. They had taken all the urine from the broodmares that they needed, and had an abundance of little
babies, just playing in a field burning a hole in their pockets. The herd came all the way from Alberta on a livestock truck, taking half the horses to Saskatchewan, and the other half to Ontario. On the way over, truck drivers would stop at rescues and sell some of the horses and their babies to better homes. The ones that were left over, came to the St. Jacobs auction. The little filly was then separated from her mother, who was no longer useful and was old and weak and sick. She was sold to the meat man, leaving the little filly all alone in a big scary auction house. By this time, the filly was 8 months old and growing like a weed! A Mennonite boy saw her and all her potential and bought the little filly and brought her to a farmer he knew of so she could stay safe there until she found a permanent home. The farmer and his wife did not like animals. The little filly was kept in a small indoor pen in a dirty barn, her stall was dark and damp, she was surrounded in her own feces and had limited food and water. A nearby horse rescue heard of the awful conditions these horses were in, and immediately tried to find them new homes. One of the rescue people had seen me ride before and a little while later, the little filly was mine. Her name was now India, and she had a loving and carefree home where she could run outside and be the baby she never got to be. This is where our story begins.
babies, just playing in a field burning a hole in their pockets. The herd came all the way from Alberta on a livestock truck, taking half the horses to Saskatchewan, and the other half to Ontario. On the way over, truck drivers would stop at rescues and sell some of the horses and their babies to better homes. The ones that were left over, came to the St. Jacobs auction. The little filly was then separated from her mother, who was no longer useful and was old and weak and sick. She was sold to the meat man, leaving the little filly all alone in a big scary auction house. By this time, the filly was 8 months old and growing like a weed! A Mennonite boy saw her and all her potential and bought the little filly and brought her to a farmer he knew of so she could stay safe there until she found a permanent home. The farmer and his wife did not like animals. The little filly was kept in a small indoor pen in a dirty barn, her stall was dark and damp, she was surrounded in her own feces and had limited food and water. A nearby horse rescue heard of the awful conditions these horses were in, and immediately tried to find them new homes. One of the rescue people had seen me ride before and a little while later, the little filly was mine. Her name was now India, and she had a loving and carefree home where she could run outside and be the baby she never got to be. This is where our story begins.
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Is that a picture of India? Or just some random horse that's probably named something lame like "Batteries Not Included"
ReplyDeleteIt's India!
ReplyDeleteDid you feel a strong connection to India right from the start?
ReplyDelete