The Equine Redemption - Adopting a Horse at Auction
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Adopting a Horse at Auction
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The Equine Redemption
by Kerri Lake
Positive, powerful intentions end in an inspirational story that begins with an Arab-cross stud colt that no one wanted to buy at auction. |
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A friend of mine was looking to buy a horse that could be a
backyard horse for her and her son to ride around and be
friends with. She didn't want to spend a lot of money, so I
suggested we go to the local auction to see if we could rescue
one of the horses from that fate... For those of you who are
unfamiliar with horse auctions, many times the meat buyers end
up taking most of the animals at low prices. There are usually
some horses there who have plenty of life left and just need
someone to show up and recognize their value, see their heart.
We found a couple of older horses who seemed to be dumped at
the auction but still had life left and love to give. My friend
decided to bid on two of them.
As the auction proceeded, the horses she liked both went to
good homes at good prices. In fact, at that auction, most of
the horses went to good homes. It was refreshing, actually.
Toward the end, the cowboys herded two young bay
Arab/Arab-cross stud colts into the ring. It was clear they
hadn't been handled and were not in good shape. I didn't see
them out in the paddocks before the auction - I think they may
have been brought in at the last second. They ran around in
front of the auctioneer, and nobody wanted to bid on them. I'm
not sure who ended up buying them, but I suspected that they
went to the Mexican rodeo.
The following month my friend and I went back to the same
auction yard with high hopes. Again, she found one or two
horses she was interested in, so we found our seats and waited
to see what happened.
The auction went by much like the last one, the horses she
liked went at prices higher than she wanted to pay, and had
good homes.
And just like the last month, at the very end of the auction,
the cowboys herded in one young bay...gelding. I immediately
recognized him as the smaller of the two that had been herded
in last month. This poor horse was clearly traumatized,
terrified and clearly in pain.
The auctioneer started the bidding out at $500. No takers.
$400. No takers...the price went down and down, and still no
takers. My heart was just breaking seeing this young guy in
such dire straits.
Finally, the auctioneer announced, "$50. Who will take this guy
home for $50?"
...Me, apparently! I suddenly found my arm stretched into the
air, announcing to the entire crowd that my heart was the
softest. BANG, the gavel came down, and I now owned a 2 year
old Arab-cross with no training and a terrible start in life.
I did not go to the auction looking to buy a horse, for crying
out loud! At that point in my life I wasn't sure which way was
up! I sincerely did not know if I would have a home the next
month, but I could not have left him where he was.
I paid my $50 plus tax, and bought a disposable nylon halter in
the auction office - like I said, I was unprepared. People in
the office said to me, "Oh,YOU'RE the one that bought that
colt. Be careful with that one. He's out to kill someone." I
wasn't worried.
Out in the paddock yard, people were collecting their horses,
either the ones they bought or the ones they're taking back
home. I saw my new horse alone in a large paddock. I stood at
the gate for a while, watching him, letting him see me, smell
me, feel me.
One of the cowboys, walking by, playing with is lariat, said to
me, "You know, that colt is dangerous. He's out to kill
somebody. You probably won't be able to handle him. It took six
of us to get him in the trailer last time. You let me know, and
I'll come rope him for you when you're ready."
"Ok. Thanks." I said.
I stayed quiet, and started to notice what kind of condition he
was really in. He had patches of bare skin where he had fallen,
or been whipped down to the skin. He had scars where his mouth
had been tied shut. His legs were full of cuts and sores, and
his one white sock was hard to see through the dirt and dried
blood of a wound just a bit higher on his leg. I was convinced
he had been at the Mexican rodeo.
But his eyes were bright. He was aware and alive. His spirit
was so strong, totally committed to resisting anyone who would
try to force him into servitude. I was already in love with
him!
After about 15 minutes of standing quietly, watching him,
keeping my own mind clear, my own heart open so he would have
the best chance to know who I am, what I'm about, and that I
was here to help him, I stepped into the paddock. He was facing
away from me, and turned his head around to the left to look at
me squarely.
I said, "Hello", silently. I did not approach him, I did not
reach out to him with my hand. I stood still, about 20 feet
from him, holding my $7 halter and lead rope. He refocused on
me, scanning me more deeply, and as he did, I took half a step
back, letting him know that I intend no threat. After another
five minutes, I turned and left his paddock.
The cowboys KNEW I was crazy. After all, it took six of them to
handle this guy...
I took a break, walked away for ten minutes or so, talked with
my friend about bringing the trailer around. She backed her
four horse stock trailer up to a wide chute area, and the
cowboys planted themselves on top of the fences to watch.
"Yer gonna need a rope!" they reassured me.
"Ok. Thanks." I was really grateful for their attention,
because I wanted them to see what kindness can accomplish...
I went back to my guy's paddock and walked directly in. I
stepped within about ten feet of him and showed him the halter.
Silently, telepathically, I communicated to him, "I'd like you
to wear this halter and follow me up this aisleway to a large
trailer where there is hay and soft bedding. I want to take you
where you can eat grass and rest with no whips and no ropes."
He sighed and lowered his head in acceptance. His eyes became
softer, although not submissive.
I walked straight up to him and haltered him. I turned myself
toward the gate as if he and I had already done this walk
hundreds of times together. With a very slight pressure on the
halter in my direction, and a gentle release as he responded,
he understood that trapping him was not my intent. He followed
me directly, out the gate and up the aislway.
And the cowboys were watching...silently!
This young horse, my new hero, felt a bit claustrophobic in the
aisleway, surrounded by fences and gates, shadows and sounds,
but he chose to trust me and come with me. When we made it to
the other end of the covered paddock area, to where the trailer
was waiting, we had an audience. But my horse and I were focused
on each other. I was focused on bringing him gently, safely,
into the trailer. He was focused on not being beaten.
We walked into the wide chute area toward the trailer, and
again, I approached the trailer as if he and I had done this
already a thousand times. I held thoughts and pictures and
sensations in my mind of a young, spirited bay horse travelling
safely and comfortably to a place with a large grass pasture and
the company of a three year old quarter horse mare. I saw the
picture of him walking gently into the trailer, I felt, even
before we stepped into the trailer, the rocking of the trailer
floor, the sounds of hooves on the trailer floor, and the
rattles you hear when it's holding the weight of a horse. I
felt how this particular trailer, on this particular day, was
destined to deliver a special horse to freedom.
He followed me straight into the trailer like an old pro. No
hesitation. He walked in, grabbed a bite of hay, and let me
know he understands. He's ready to go. It was more than I had
even hoped for.
Without ceremony, I closed up the trailer, said goodbye to the
cowboys, and we drove away.
I named this little horse Dufresne (pronounced du-frane) after
the lead charater in The Shawshank Redemption, one of the most
satisfying movies I have ever seen. Andy Dufresne, in the
movie, was wrongfully imprisoned for over twenty years, endured
ridiculous abuse, and finally, quietly, revealed the injustices
of his jailers and escaped through the sewer pipes to spend the
rest of his days on a Pacific coast beach.
Dufresne settled into his new pasture home instantly. His
wounds healed faster than you'd think wounds should heal. He
was immeasurably happy to give his attention, to learn to be
saddled and ridden. He eventually when to a new family, to live
out his new life. Each moment with him was filled with gratitude
and love. He is an amazingly strong and beautiful individual.
The picture of him standing in his pasture with grass hanging
out of his mouth and a big smile on his face embodies a whole
new beginning. The look in his eye is almost indescribable. A
kid in a candy store, like he'd been born again, into a
completely different world.
This was $50 well spent.
About The Author:
powerfulintentions.com
Kerri is a gifted teacher, healer and animal communicator focused on
helping others find harmony within their lives and within
themselves. Animals have led the way through the most difficult
times and are involved in most of her work and writing. |
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