THE HORSE WITH NO NAME

Or did he have a name?

He probably did but we will never know what it was, he had already become just a number identifiable only by the twine and tag around his neck.

He bore no visible brand, not even under his long mane which hung naturally to both sides of his neck.

He was not a thoroughbred nor do we think he was a standardbred, it appears he was not a racehorse at all.

He had been someone’s useful horse though, or so it would seem from the remaining shoe that he had on.

He was quiet and he was trusting, he came looking for attention, he came looking for food, he came in the hope that someone cared.

The confusion and sadness in his eyes was as heartbreaking as the scars and bites that covered his body and legs.

The tears running down his face, while presumably caused by a blocked tear duct, flies or dust, were sadly ironic and mirrored by the tears of those who did care but could do nothing to save him.

He was one of dozens there at that time, one of thousands destined for the same fate every year.

As time went on the horse with no name gave up, the hope on his face disappeared and his head hung low.

While some of his paddock mates still showed interest and some still made a futile effort to find something to eat amongst the dust, he stood to the side dejected and sad, it seemed he knew what his fate was to be.

We care about all horses that are discarded because they are deemed no longer useful, we care for all the horses whose owners think so little of them they subject them to a cruel and inhumane end because “it’s better than starving in a paddock” or so that they can squeeze the last couple of hundred dollars from them rather than give them a peaceful end at home.

RIP horse with no name, we are sorry that you died this way, you deserved so much better.