Slaughter truck

My only crime that I can think of was that I ate too much.
My people couldn’t afford to feed three horses
That is what they said.
I am young and unbroke
My saddle trained friends got to stay because they said they could feed a horse that was useful.

I am friendly and willing,
I tried to not eat too much these last few weeks
but it was cold and wet.
I had to eat to stay warm
we had no shelter.

They brought me home last summer when there was grass to eat.
They said they would train me
They said I had promise
They told me I was beautiful.

I am not feeling beautiful right now.

My coat is dirty, my ribs are showing
I got kicked really hard by another horse who I tried to buddy up too.
I am so thirsty and sad.

I made friends with the really old horse.
He can barely stand in the truck.
I helped him stay up by standing against him.

We made a couple of stops
I was hoping my girl and her humans would change their minds
maybe come and get me
because maybe I could eat a little less and learn some skills.

Maybe my old friend could come too.

I don’t know where we are going.

My old friend cries out
He had a child who braided his hair before he got on this truck. He wears a purple ribbon in his mane.
He got bad legs from jumping,
and his people couldn’t keep a horse who couldn’t work

but he worked for them for twenty years.
I don’t understand?

Is there no retirement for old horses who worked?

We have another stop and some say it is our last chance to get away
but I don’t know how to get away
Aren’t humans supposed to take care of us?

I was born on a big ranch and my first mistake was that I was born without color.

I got weaned and taken to a sale
I never saw my mother again.

I lived at a nice place for two years
apple trees, a pond and other horses
and then one day a family showed up,
to buy me for their girl.

We went home and I must say, it was disappointing…except for the girl.

She brushed me and picked my feet.

Told me she loved me.
I was going to be something.

She and I.


Then winter came
and I got cold and hungry,
But I didn’t complain.

The girl didn’t come out much
and I made friends with the two other horses.

I learned to stand in a circle to keep warmer and safer.

We had to stand in mud.
We had to eat in mud.
There wasn’t enough hay.
and then that one day… they came for me.

Told me they couldn’t afford the three of us.

I had to go.

I looked for the girl but she never came.

I got pushed into a trailer and off we went.
I screamed and screamed but no one heard me.
Rough hands pulled me from the trailer and led me into pen with lots of other horses.

So much noise and despair.
I cried out again
but no girl.

and now we are on this big truck.
It is slippery and cold.
I don’t know if my old friend can make it.

My only wish is that someone would keep a promise

A young horse like me has promise.

My old friend had promises made to him.

but a promise is a promise.

Isn’t it?

(This poem with an unknown author was shared on Heart of Phoenix Equine Rescue, INC‘s page today, and while simple. . .it speaks volumes about exactly what we see so often)