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PostPosted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 2:07 am
by Kevan Garecki
I have a recurring nightmare ... I am surrounded by horses; they are all wasting away, yet I cannot help them. None of them have eyes, so they cannot see the path to the barn. They have no ears, so they cannot hear me calling them to follow me. Their noses are swollen shut by disease & infections, so they cannot smell the sweet hay I offer. They stand motionless; I can sense they know I'm there, and are waiting for me to help

It’s difficult to place an exact date on when I began rescuing horses, as the concept was active in my mind from an early age. My maternal grandfather was a “natural horseman” long before there was a term for it; he was also a rescuer before there was such a word. He took in horses not because he felt sorry for them, but because he could help them. When someone asked me why I took in an ancient little gray mare, I simply replied “Because I can”. She was an anomaly though, as to offer sustainable salvation we must be selective, rescuing those we can indeed help, and those who can offer something in return. The latter is often intangible, but every life is precious, every life has something to offer.
An oft overlooked aspect of rescue is what happens after that rehabilitated horse steps into their new forever home, and the chasm that remains in their wake. How do we repair that little tear in our hearts after loving that horse for so long? We simply go off in search of yet another deserving soul. In that light I would like to offer a few success stories, those who have gone on to the next chapters of their lives, to live their own sequel. Joining those are a select few who have been saved, had their spirits restored, yet remain with us awaiting that special bond.

Squirt spent the first 5 years of his life in a dank barn unable to see the sun, socialise as horses are meant to do, or even experience the simple joy of running. After his rescue I worked with him & the other 6 horses who were taken from that property; he was so withdrawn & emotionally vacant the prospect of euthanizing him was entertained. As his time slipped away the realisation of his impending fate began to look all the more certain. Quite literally at the “11th hour” Squirt & two of his herd mates were taken in by a benevolent saviour, but this was only a small step for him as he still required much support to restore his spirit.
I was given the opportunity to see Squirt some months later and resume working with him. I found that while his overall demeanour had improved he was still quite reserved. His owner suggested letting him out into a large field where he could join his newfound friends in a communal setting. As I watched him gingerly step out into the field, call to his buddies then trot out to meet them an overwhelming sense of accomplishment filled me; it was pure tonic for my soul! There is a quiet but distinct pride in knowing I had played a small part in helping this young horse discover a new world, free from abuse, fear, starvation & neglect. And that little voice in the back of my mind whispers “Paid In Full”

This is why I do what I do ...

Re: Squirt

PostPosted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 2:12 am
by Kevan Garecki
Squirt & his buddy Bart