Many, many years ago when I was a little girl my parents brought home a little pony for me whose heart oversized her body many times. She ended up being the best friend anyone could ever have asked for. Her name was Flicka. She was a little Welsh cross mare that was about as fat as a little barrel and as sweet as a pot full of honey. She had been foundered and because of this she had very bad legs and had a severe breathing problem. She would never be good for racing or running barrels or jumping fences, but I didn't care. I loved her just the same.
She had a deformity under her chin where a bone protruded, almost like it was supposed to be there. I could lead her around without ever having to put a halter on her. When I first got her I was too small to jump on her back by myself so I used to lead her over to something to get up on. That worked great when something was around. My mom used to ask me what I would do if I had to get off her sometime and there wasn't anything around to jump on. I kind of giggled and then led Flicka over to an alfalfa patch where she put her head down to eat and I would just jump on the back of her neck and then she would lift her head so I could slide down it. When I was where I needed to be she would go back to eating, waiting for me to turn around so we could take off on our ride.
Don't get me wrong now, she wasn't always that sweet! We used to have our fair share of "arguments". I have been bucked off, run through trees, rubbed off on hay stacks, jumped to the side so I would slide off....well, pretty much everything and anything you could think of, she did. The difference was though if she hurt me, she would feel terrible and wait for me as patiently as could be to get back on so she could take me back home so my mom could repair me, but now if I got up, mad as a wet hen and showed her I was fine.... well, away she would go home.....without me!
There was another time when I was walking her home crying my eyes out because I couldn't get her to go anywhere so my dad decided he was going to "teach" her a "lesson". Well he just hopped up on her back (I didn't have a saddle, my parents wanted me to learn "how" to ride and not just "sit there" and "go" for a ride) all ticked off because this stubborn pony wasn't doing a dang thing his little girl wanted her to do.....well, miss "fatso" decided she didn't like this "big" person on her back and she just took off around the corner of the barn, and she went one way and he went the other...right on his back. Needless to say I wasn't "crying" anymore. As a matter of fact, my dad was laughing pretty hard as well. He really loved that old spoiled girl though, "not like that had anything to do with her attitude". When she was retired and was just giving "my" children rides and teaching them "how" to ride, she would just roam the yard as she pleased. You really couldn’t have asked for a better babysitter than she was. There were sheds that she used to get into, and of course leave her "land marks". He used to get sooooo mad at her, but, instead of actually putting her back in the pasture with the rest of the horses, Oh No! That would be just too easy!! He got better locks for the doors of the grain bins. Of course there was one bin that Flicka really liked the best, somehow that door never got a lock on it, just so "someone" could go in where it was cool in the summer.....wonder how that happened?? Huh Dad!?
Now for the story behind how Flicka came to live with us. My mom is no horse person by any means, all she knew was that "it" went in one end and "it" came out the other. My dad was working in the field and couldn't go with so my mom decided to take my uncle with, who was also well known for his knowledge and care for horses (just so she wouldn't get "took" on her very first and probably last horse purchase). Well my uncle rambled off about a million things wrong with this pony and about a million reasons why "not" to buy her. My mom took everything into account and said "We'll take her, when can you deliver".
Flicka not only taught me how to ride but how to love and respect a horse for who they are. Living things with personalities just like you and me.
Back when I was a teenager, I was depressed just like many teens are, and things looked like they would never get better so I decided to take my own life. I went to the barn to say my last good-bye to my best friend. I sat in her stall and decided I wanted to be with her when I did what I had intended to do. Slit my wrists. She must have known something drastic was wrong and what I was about to do was wrong. She gave me a soft nicker and put her nose to my face rubbing my tears away, somehow she knew exactly what I was intending to do as she put her nose between my hands and kept them apart preventing me from ending my life. We stayed like that until I fell asleep.
For those people out there who think that an animal is "just" an animal, can you tell me that this horse did not know what I was intending to do? I don't think so!
Quite a few years later I went to an auction to buy a pony for my own children. In a dark corner, standing in a box stall, was a big Thoroughbred, all saddled up and ready to go. But there was something about his eyes that caught my attention. They looked sad. I decided to go into the box stall with him and take a closer look. Did I ever get a surprise! He was nothing more than a bag of bones covered in old scars and fresh wounds. I started to cry. When I started to pet him, he lowered his head and pressed it up against my chest, almost saying "thank you for giving me the time of day". I knew right then and there that he was coming home with me no matter what.
The auction seemed to take forever. I started to think that they were never going to run him through. Finally, he came into the ring, with a rider on his back, a big heavy rider at that. I started bidding and to my surprise a meat buyer was bidding against me, and if looks could have killed, I think he would have killed me right then and there but I didn't care, this was going to be MY horse not his. Personally I think the auctioneers were even glad that I got him as they all gave me a smile and a nod when I didn't give up and I won the bid of $440. Stretch was mine!!
After we got him home and settle in, I asked him to move over by lightly pushing on his hips, he lost his balance and almost fell over. I lost it again, but at least I knew he was safe now and the rest of his life would be healthy and happy. Stretch was only 4 years old and was being used as a pacer at a race track.
No other horse will replace Flicka or Stretch, but because of them, I do what I do. Since I started this "project" back in 1981 a lot of horses have been saved or euthanized humanly instead of living out the rest of their lives suffering from starvation and/or abuse. I have loved all and will continue to love all that come into to my home and I will never forget them. The ones that couldn't be saved are in Rainbow Bridge now and are happy and healthy. I will be with them all again someday.
I have had a lot of wonderful horses over the years, both rescue horses and my own personal horses. Every one of them has given me special memories and they have all touched my heart in one way or another. When I first started this rescue many years ago I originally dedicated this rescue to my dear Flicka's memory but it seems as the years have passed, the more horses I have saved from abuse, starvation and neglect I think now that I do this for all of them as well... both past, present and future horses that are in need of being rescued.
A few years ago I started to get quite burned from all the sadness and horrific things that you have to witness when doing a rescue. It can get quite hard on you both physically and mentally. I told everyone that I wasn't going to do the rescue any more but somehow there always seemed to be at least 1 more rescue horse at my place. Everyone that knows me used to tease me all the time about 'quitting doing the rescue' when they would come for a visit. I guess it was kind of hard to believe with all the new rescues that were always here. So I guess I am making it official again that I am "back" doing the rescue again.
I lost a LOT of my pictures in the 1997 flood but I will put up some of the ones I have of the horses we have rescued over the years.