The Dream

I am racing across lush verdant fields.  The stream is crystal clear and the water tastes cool and clean.  The sunlight gleams on my smooth slick coat and the warm breeze dances through my mane and tail.  I feel good and strong and healthy.

Slowly, I wake to find that I’ve been dreaming again.  I am stiff and sore; I am shivering from the cold and aching with hunger in this frozen pasture that I call home.  I struggle to rise and join the others to find what nourishment I can.  The hay is brown, moldy and wet, but its all there is for us.  Tempers are running short in the herd, and we fight to get close enough to the moldy hay for a bite or two before we are chased away by those that are stronger.

I follow the fence line hoping to find a bit of brown grass on the other side, I stretch as far as I can, but I cannot reach far beyond the barbed wire.  I see the little foal, born just days ago lying on the frozen ground, still and motionless.  Yesterday, he followed his mother as she tried to get close to the hay.  Too close to the danger of striking hooves, he couldn’t get out of the way quick enough, he hasn’t moved since.  Evening is approaching, but I’ve lost all hope that someone might come to bring us fresh hay.  It’s been far too long; I don’t think they’re ever coming back. 

Another frigid night passes, another dream fades away.  As a weak winter sun slants across the morning sky, I am barely able to stand; I stumble but somehow manage to get back on my feet.  My coat is caked with dried mud, and there is a cold wind that seems to pass through my body and chills me to the bone.  There was very little water left in the creek, and now it is frozen.   

I hear a rumbling sound near the gate, as the rest of the herd stands motionless ears forward, wary of the commotion.  People are approaching; we stand cautious and ready to flee.  Their eyes are kind, and they speak with voices that are soft and gentle.  They move us forward toward the gate where the trucks and trailers await.  Most of us are too weak to do anything but follow where they lead.  One by one we step into the trailers, frightened and unsure, I feel a soft warm blanket surround me and I have a sense that today, my life is about to change. 

Winter and spring have passed, and I have not been hungry since that day in the frozen pasture when the trailers arrived.  Each night, I lay in a dry soft bed that smells of pine, or with the earth beneath me, under the stars drifting off to sleep to the faint call of the whippoorwill. 

I am racing across lush verdant fields.  The streams are crystal clear and the water tastes cool and clean.  The sunlight gleams on my smooth slick coat and the warm breeze dances through my mane and tail.  I feel good and strong and healthy, I am no longer dreaming; I am loved.

This is a story I wrote of the first rescue case that I went on as an investigator with HARPS, The Hooved Animal Rescue & Protection Society in Barrington Illinois.  As I wandered through the frozen field on December 31st, 2004, I couldn't believe what I saw; horses starved, emaciated, near death.  As a photographer it was my job to show the condition of each horse to use for evidence if the owner ever was brought to court.  As I walked the pasture photographing each horse, I noticed they were all wary of us, obviously rarely having contact with people.  One little mare, the thinnest by far, followed along behind me as I worked my way through the herd.  Every now and then, I would feel the slightest touch as she nuzzled my back.  I hadn't photographed her yet, as I turned to face her she backed up just a step or two. As I looked at her, and she at me, I could swear I felt my heart breaking.  She was one of six horses HARPS impounded that day; her chances of survival were slim because her system was so compromised, if she were to make it, rehabilitation would take months.  It took me about 30 seconds to decide to adopt her.  Of course the old run down barn on our property needed repair, and at this point I had no fencing, but none of that mattered, I had just adopted my first horse, Tammi.

Several months later, another rescue case led to my second adopted horse; his story hasn't been written yet.

Recommended reading:  The Soul of a Horse by Joe Camp 
If you love horses, and especially if you 'own' horses, this is a must read!