Epilogue: The FEARLESS Blind Horse Rescue Saga

Last month, in multiple posts, I blogged about Mikey, the reader who drove 2,400 miles to rescue an abandoned blind horse. Here she is in her rig with the FEARLESS plates, pulling out of the auction yard with a sightless mare in her trailer, heading for Shiloh Horse Rescue south of Las Vegas.

Here's how the mare, now named Keller (after Helen Keller), is getting along:

* She's settled in very well. She's out of quarantine and living in a corral set up especially for the needs of sightless horses. She has two other blind horses there to keep her company in a mini-herd environment, and gets her share of attention from visitors--which she soaks right up.

To keep up with Keller's activities and see photos of her progress, go to Shiloh's Web site, click on Daily Blog, and enter Keller in the search box. The folks at Shiloh remember to include her progress from time to time. Or, click here to see her sponsorship page and numerous photos of her in her new surroundings.

Ongoing thanks from here!

Normality Rears Its Boring Head

Now that the blind horse (new name: Keller, after Helen Keller) is safely at Shiloh Horse Rescue, and now that her intrepid transporter, Mikey, is back home in Arizona, there's nothing for me to do except get back on with normal life.

Which for me, largely consists of:
* Working on yet another issue of Horse&Rider. The November issue's last pages go to press today, so the December issue is officially underway. (For us mag-types, the holidays come early; I've already had the Christmas decorations out, for the purpose of taking holiday-themed photos for the issue.)

* Wielding a paintbrush and roller in my non-work hours. When we bought our place in '96, we were enamored of its lovely white buildings and expansive set of three-rail, white-board fences. And, have been trying (mostly in vain) to keep up with the painting of it all, ever since. Not to mention: Guess whose husband DOES NOT PAINT?

* Days spent alone in the company of animals (three dogs, three horses.) Once Ed leaves to go to his job in town, I usually don't see any other human-types, except for the FedEx and UPS drivers, and maybe the occasional drive-by Jehovah's Witness. It's really no wonder that I'm used to talking aloud and having no one answer.

* Making lists of all that needs to be done in preparation for another winter. New to the list this year: "Plan mid-winter trip to Arizona." I didn't exit, stage-south, during any part of last year's big whiteout winter, and definitely regretted it. Not making that same mistake twice!

More This 'n' That from Mikey's Rescue Mission

I sure want to thank everyone who's been saving a little heart-room to keep up with the saga of Mikey's rescue mission of the blind mare abandoned at a livestock yard. Once she's had a chance to rest up, I'm sure Mikey will have her own stories to tell; can't wait to read about them on her own blog, The Horseshoeing Housewife.

Photo: Mikey introduces herself to the blind mare before starting to trim her feet.

A few random thoughts to share, plus some extra photos:

* I have every bit as much admiration for Janet L., the livestock market employee who took the blind mare under her care, as I do for Mikey. Janet, who lives on the auction grounds, is the sort of person who shuns publicity. (She managed to duck or hide herself from most of the photos, and refused any credit at all for her help with the mare.) But she is every inch a horsewoman. She figured out how to get the blind mare to lead (which she wouldn't do on auction day); cleaned and treated her eyes every day; and knew how to talk her right into Mikey's trailer. She also let slip that this wasn't the first unsold auction horse that she's assisted. For someone who lives and works at what's essentially a meat market, she retains her feelings for horses.

Photo: With the blind mare safely loaded, Mikey and I show off her aptly named FEARLESS rescue rig.

* This life-episode has taught me that you don't always have to have the WHOLE answer in order to get a problem solved. Sometimes, little pieces of answers, coming from multiple sources, can add up to a good ending. Just the smallest act can be the one that makes the difference.

Photo: No longer needed: The auction tag from one very lucky horse.

* As small acts go, I loved the one where Janet, upon release of the mare to Mikey (and ultimately to Shiloh Horse Rescue), finally got to remove the "797" auction tag from the top of her tail. I know that had to have meant something to her. (The tag had to remain as long as the mare was in the auction market's custody, for purposes of tracking and identification.) Seems like a lucky set of numbers, in more ways than one!

"I Gave the Horse a Big Hug From All of Us"

I just heard from Mikey again.

She and the blind mare made it to Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada today with no trouble. Other than being a little stocked up in her legs, which is to be expected after having just had her neglected feet trimmed, the mare took the trip well, Mikey said.  She unloaded well, got settled into well enough to find feed and water, and the sound of some new voices, and Mikey's now on the road toward home, in Arizona.

Last of Mikey's words from the answering machine:

"I told the mare she was home now, and that she was going to be just fine, with all kinds of people to love her again. And I gave her a big hug from all of us."

Blind Mare is Now on the Road With Mikey

We're freshly back from our drive to meet Mikey E. at the livestock market and help her get the object of her mission--a blind mare who has a welcoming committee waiting for her at Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada--trimmed up and into her trailer.

We arrived before Mikey did, so we were able to visit with Janet L., the auction-yard employee who's been taking care of the mare for the last two weeks. Janet had her safely in a large pen, with another mare there to act as seeing-eye-horse. The blind mare had come to trust Janet enough that she could lead her; above, Janet and her son bring the mare up an alley toward the exit area.

When I'd last talked to Mikey on the phone, she asked us to see if the horse would let her feet be picked up--so she could trim them before starting the return trip south, from Idaho. The mare was hesitant at first, but compliant when she knew what we wanted her to do.

It didn't take long to realize that she'd had lots of handling and training at some point in her life. What you see here is the the longest untrimmed foot I've ever seen.

Meanwhile, the FEARLESS rescue rig, Mikey at the wheel, pulled in to the livestock market. Mikey grabbed her farrier tools, and started in on the first trim job the blind mare had had in a very long time.

I held the mare while Mikey worked on her. When Mikey set the first foot down, the mare almost lost her balance--she was used to flinging the ski-like foot out in front of herself, just to feel the ground. But she stood remarkably still for the rest of her hoof work. In fact, overall, I'd say her manners were impeccable.

Janet told us what she'd found out about the mare's history. She said a young girl had owned her all her life, but had gone on to college and left the mare behind. "Kinda forgot about her," is how Janet put it. Finally, whoever was caring for her got tired of dealing with and feeding her, and hauled her to the livestock auction where I saw her get no-saled.

Mikey (red cap), Janet (orange tank top), and I paused for a quick picture with the mare, now wearing a fly mask (donated by Janet) as eye protection. Wow, that Mikey--not just FEARLESS, but a beauty to boot!

My husband, Ed, and Appaloosa Horse Club CEO Steve Taylor came along to help get the mare into Mikey's trailer. We did use their assistance, mostly just to help her keep balanced and going in the right direction as she felt her way from one kind of surface to the next.

I have to say that I had to work pretty hard not to cry when she finally found her way to the trailer's front and dove in to her hay. There was just something about the moment when I knew she'd been passed into another set of good hands, after Janet's....

Godspeed, you two. And Shiloh, you have a wonderful surprise on the way. This is one sweet, sweet horse--kind of an Appaloosa angel, with Mikey as her wings.

Report from Mikey's Rescue Bus (Saturday a.m.)

Mikey just called to say she's about 2 1/2 hours from the livestock market. Cell reception is spotty in Idaho's mountains, so we didn't get to dwell long on the phone. Details of her drive will have to wait--but the good news is, the sun's coming up, so she won't have to keep truckin' in the dark.

I'm about to go load a few essentials into the truck, and head south to meet her. On the list:

* Coffee--lots.
* Goodies for a tailgate breakfast.
* Camera.
* Thank-you card for Mikey, with check enclosed for first month's sponsorship of The Horse.
* iPod, loaded with "I Drove All Night," by Roy Orbison. (Join the mood by hearing it on YouTube.)
* Helpful husband, in case we need extra aid in loading The Horse into Mikey's trailer.
* Room left for two other friends, Steve and Chris, who also want to come along and meet the FEARLESS rig as it arrives.

To be continued.

Mikey Checks in from the Road (Friday)

I called MIkey on her cell about 3 this afternoon. She was zeroing in on Ely, Nevada, at that point. That would give her a good 11 more hours of driving time to go to reach where the horse is now.

Once she gets to U.S 95 heading north, she'll be on a route I just drove a couple of weeks ago, on my own road trip past Lake Tahoe. So I was able to give her some fresh pointers on good places to safely pull over, should she need to stop and get some shuteye before driving the last few hours.

Janet, who lives on the livestock yard property, has the place open for Mikey's arrival, whenever that turns out to be. I'm excited to meet Janet. Hope she'll let me share her picture with you.

Later--

Get to Know Mikey as She Goes on Her Mission

What kind of person would drive 2,400 miles to rescue one abandoned blind horse, with a promise to take care of its overgrown feet while she's at it?

Get some answers here, from her blog (check out her front truck plate at right--which pretty much says it all.)

http://thehorseshoeinghousewife.blogspot.com

I will get to meet Mikey for the first time tomorrow. Meanwhile, I hope she's ridin' down the highway in good form, that her tires stay good, and that she's successful with her second agenda (which you can read about on her blog, and has to do with a certain popular vice).

As I've said before on this blog: Sometimes, for whatever reason, a gal just needs a road trip.

You-Are-There: Mikey's Mission of Mercy

Knowing that a number of people are now following the saga of The Horse Nobody Wanted (see the two previous posts with that title), I'm going to take you to where I first saw it, and to where it's being fostered now, until Mikey, from Arizona, can pick it up, and take it to Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada. (From this photo's POV, you'll understand why I didn't get to learn the blind horse's gender).

This is a catwalk-view of the auction yard pens. When I first saw the blind horse and snapped its picture, it was in a pen off-camera, to stage left. The sale ring and scale are to stage right.

Mikey, this is where you're headed. Well-wishers, here's where to send your good vibes. Sometime Saturday, provided Mikey's schedule goes as planned, this is where we'll be meeting up.

To be continued.

The Horse Nobody Wanted: Part 2

Shiloh Horse Rescue in Nevada has agreed to take in this blind horse, who was abandoned at a livestock auction after eliciting no bids.

When I wrote last week's post about the blind horse left at a livestock auction after no one would bid on him, I expected some riled-up responses. No matter how practical/utilitarian your mindset, it's hard not to feel something for an animal who got ditched the way this one was.

I didn't expect anyone to step up and offer to make sure he (she?) would have a home. But that's what happened when blog reader Mikey caught my post. So here's the situation as it now stands:

* Two weeks after being run through the sale ring without a bid, even from the buyers who acquire horses for the processing market, the blind horse remains at the livestock market. A good-hearted employee has taken over its care, and is working with Mikey on all the legal-paperwork arrangements for transport to another home.

* Mikey--who happens to be a farrier--is leaving home this Friday to come and get the horse. She'll attempt to trim its grossly overgrown feet when she gets to the livestock market. Employees will assist her in loading the sightless horse into her trailer. Schedule permitting, I'll be there to meet Mikey and thank her in person for her actions.

* Mikey will take the horse to a rescue facility in Nevada, where arrangements have been made for its arrival and subsequent care. (Mikey has declined offers to help pay for her fuel bill, suggesting that sponsorship funds go to the rescue facility instead. Seeing as how I stirred this whole story up, I'll definitely be contributing to Shiloh Horse Rescue.)

Of course, as the saying goes, it ain't over until it's over. Stay tuned for further updates on Mikey's Mission of Mercy, and keep her in your thoughts while she's out there on the highway.

The Horse Nobody Wanted

Warning: This will not be a feel-good post. You may want to skip it if you're having a bad day already.

Left at an livestock auction yard to be sold, this blind horse got no bids--not even from the buyers there to acquire horses by the pound.

See the horse in the accompanying photo? You can see him, but he could never see you. That's because he's blind--as blind as they come. Take a close look at those feet. They not only haven't been trimmed by man in, oh, I'd say a couple of years, but also haven't even been worn down by movement of the horse himself. Seems pretty obvious to me that this pathetic animal had stood in one place, eating whatever's been put in front of him, for a considerably long time.

I took this picture of him a few days ago, when he turned up at our area livestock market for its monthly horse sale. This is the kind of sale that could be nicknamed The Cleaners, because for the most part, it's where people bring horses they've decided to be rid of. Most are sold loose, like cattle, and their weight flashes on a tote board as they walk across the sale ring's floor-scale. Depending on their size and degree of flesh, maybe on some other quality that allows them to find a new owner "out in the country," they bring $35, $85, $150, $275, $350 a head.

A good 90 percent of the horses sold at an auction like this will be swept into three or four kill-buyers' holding pens. The sellers know this. The crowd knows this. It's a livestock market, after all, where horses follow cattle, hogs, sheep and goats on the day's auction docket. A few folks are there looking for a cheap riding horse, maybe some old gelding suitable for the grandkids.

But for the most part, this is a meat market, part of agricultural commerce. No different than the ones my dad went to, four and five days a week, while earning a living as a sheep and cattle buyer, and from whence he fetched me the 2-year-old gelding that was the first horse I bought with my own money.

Back to the blind horse. When it finally got to be his turn to sell, he didn't elicit a single bid. Not even from the kill buyers. Not even for the auctioneer's final offer of $5. Not even from anyone who might have had the impulse to rescue him.

Biggest reason: His lack of sight made him nearly impossible to move. He wouldn't lead, and could barely be herded, even by multiple men. You had to wonder how the owner had even gotten him to the auction yard (but then again, probably wouldn't want to know). He never did step on the weight scale--he just pressed himself against the gate, refusing to step on the scale's shifting surface.

To a buyer with a load to fill and move on, toward Canada or Mexico, he was just a big liability. Not worth the trouble to bother with.

To someone feeling the pluck of heartstrings, he was a series of questions that couldn't be answered in the 30 seconds it took for him to be no-saled. How would you ever get him home? What would you DO with a blind horse? What would it cost to be the one taking the merciful step of just having him be put down? What would your husband say? (Add your own questions here.)

I saw the market owner after the sale. I asked him what happens when a consigned animal doesn't sell. "We'll call the owner and tell him to come get it," he replied. "Think they'll show up?" I asked. He shrugged. "Never know."

And to think...we still have those who maintain that there's no such thing as an unwanted horse.