"How could someone let a horse get in that condition?"
"Unhumane. Poor thing."
"Be best to put her outta her misery, ya know."
Fourteen year old Maisy Zimmerman listened to the conversation floating around her and the ragged mare. Maisy'd been trail riding with her best friends, Gloria and Abby, on the trails of Rainswept Ridge Stables. RRS was a prestigious eventing stable, known nation and worldwide for its well-bred eventers as well as halter horses. Set in the Ozarks of southwestern Missouri, it was expansive, covering lots of land without destroying the unique and lovely countryside. The trio had met when RRS opened several years back, Abby being the daughter of the owner. Maisy lived nearby and started lessons right away, the same with Gloria.
One of the older trails, not often used, had been the trio's target that day. Gloria having an incurably adventurous and curious personality, wanted to explore the ruins of an old house, destroyed years ago in a fire. Even older were the ruins of a tomato factory, though it was many times older than the old house. However, when they found new tracks in the ancient road. Gloria insisted on investigating.
"Come on! Let's go see what went there," without further ado, she urged her horse, a bay Thoroughbred named Dance, onward.
Maisy followed as Gloria and Dance disapeared over the next hill, while Abby set off at a canter, as eager to find out what was there as Gloria. However, when they arrived, dismounted, and investigated the seemingly abandoned ruins, the surprise turned to horror.
What met their eyes was a raggedly, muddy, scraggly horse. It was a mare, standing in a puddle of mud left from the last thunderstorm. Spiritless, lifeless, broken and just plain sad.
"Oh lord," Maisy murmured, eyes glued to the mare's. They were beautiful, sorrowful eyes indeed. At first glance, they were dark blue, yet at closer look they were more of a violet-blue, speckled with white, so that one might get the impression of a violet lapis lazuli orb. They spoke quite a bit about the mare. Within them was sadness, memories of happiness that would never be again. The mare certainly knew her condition. She knew terror and injustice. Abby dismounted first, nearing the mare. The muddy horse peered at Abby, but didn't move from her spot, though they were all sure she would've backed away if she had the strength.
"Someone should go back to the farm," Abby pointed out, and turned to mount her gelding, Rudolph. She was off in a flash, the steady Arabian used to moving fast on uneven terrain, for Abby trained him in endurance riding.
"She looks so terrible," Gloria said, tying both Dance and Maisy's mount, a black Hanoverian lesson horse, to trees. Maisy was the only one of the three who did not have her own horse, but she rode Madel, the black, often.
"Yeah. But look at those eyes.. have you ever seen such beautiful eyes?" Maisy moved to the mare's side. Though she shuddered at first, she made no move to leave. Maisy stroked the mare's mud-caked neck, ran her fingers through the tangled mane, and moved to her face, stroking it evenly, she whispered, "Don't worry, girl.. no one will hurt you now."
The mare gave a sigh, as if she had been waiting a lifetime for those very words. She leaned forward, head pressing into Maisy's chest. Maisy looked over at Gloria, who was just watching, but soon moved back to Dance and Madel, reassuring herself they would never get in that condition.
~*~
"Shh, dear.. you're safe.. all safe. They're here to help," Maisy murmured to the mare when Abby returned with help. RRS's owner and manager, Kim Benden, arrived with a group from a nearby rescue society, as well as the farm vet. Once dismounted and near the mare, disbelief rang through the air. Maisy clung to the mare, by her head, as more people began arriving, some curious, some there for a reason.
"Well, she's in terrible condition, as anyone can see. Looks like she might be foundered, might have other injures. She needs a lot of TLC right now, is what I'd say," the vet announced after looking over the mare for a short time. "We should get her back to the farm. Might need to get a horse-stretcher down here. Can she move at all, girls?"
Maisy shrugged, then turned to the mare and whispered softly, "Lovely girl, can you walk? It's not too far to the farm... we have to get you there."
The mare looked up at Maisy, then at the others. She gave another low sigh, like she had been doing often for the past hour. Yet she didn't move. Gloria and Abby came over to try to help, but the mare was unable to move, though Maisy knew she wanted to. They would have to wait for help to come in the form of a horse-stretcher.
~*~
Later that afternoon, Maisy sat in one of the stalls in the isolation barn, the mare's head in her lap. Maisy had insisted on staying with the mare, and no one protested it except her parents, who weren't the horsiest people. Kim convinced them to let her stay overnight with the mare, and so she did.
Not long after their efforts to move the mare, the vet summoned a horse stretcher, which came fairly quickly, though the roads were muddy and torn up by rain. They hadn't risked going all the way to town to get to the vet's office, so the mare was settled into a roomy stall in the isolation barn. Maisy went right with her, feeling a bond already with the mare.
"Heyla, Maisy," Abby let herself into the stall carrying grooming supplies as well as other things the vet had brought to the farm.
Maisy looked up, "Heyla. I think she's very happy to be in a warm, safe place. Those from the vet?" she indicated the bundles Abby had just set down.
"Yup. We're to give her a thorough grooming and make sure she takes these medicines," she held up one bag, "and be sure she gets enough ice around that hurt leg. So let's get her standing."
Maisy smiled and stood, leaning down to press a kiss on the mare's muzzle, urging her to stand. The mare gave a few grunts, but slowly she rose. The two girls could almost hear bones creaking and mud crackling. Exchanging a look with her friend, Maisy plucked a curry comb out of the grooming kit and started to work on the mare's left side. Abby took the right, and they worked rythmically over the mare's coat, currying out what would come. They would move her to the grooming stall across the aisle once done for a de-licer treatment, a bath, among other things.
"You know, we should give her a name," Abby pointed out, moving the supplies across the aisle while Maisy lead the mare slowly over.
"I suppose we should. But what?"
"Well, you've been raving over her eyes since we found her. Maybe something to do with them?"
"They are beautiful eyes, though. But they looks so sorrowful," Maisy peered into the mare's eyes, "almost as if she's crying, but you can see happiness in there, at being saved."
"Yeah, I guess you can," Abby agreed, leaning over to look in the eyes herself. "Tears are glistening in them, it seems."
"Tears.. hmm," Maisy pondered, then brightened, "Tears of Love."
"Why's that?"
"Because she's crying tears of happiness, tears of joy, tears of love for those who saved her."
Abby chucked a harmless piece of hay at Maisy, "You're too poetic, you know. But that sounds good. So her nickname is Tears?"
Maisy nodded, "Tears it is. I hope whoever let her get in this condition pays for it."
"Well, we saw the police there when we were leaving. They'll want to talk to us, probably. Sometime."
"Of course. Hand me the de-licer, please," Maisy said, getting Tears's coat ready on her side while Abby was already working it in on hers. "I think she likes this. It's like a massage, to her."
Abby grinned, "Well, there'll be more of this by the time we're done. We'll have her squeaky clean. If the color of her face is any indication, she'll be right lovely when we're done."
"Dappled gray, I'll bet."
"I'll take you on that bet."
"Unhumane. Poor thing."
"Be best to put her outta her misery, ya know."
Fourteen year old Maisy Zimmerman listened to the conversation floating around her and the ragged mare. Maisy'd been trail riding with her best friends, Gloria and Abby, on the trails of Rainswept Ridge Stables. RRS was a prestigious eventing stable, known nation and worldwide for its well-bred eventers as well as halter horses. Set in the Ozarks of southwestern Missouri, it was expansive, covering lots of land without destroying the unique and lovely countryside. The trio had met when RRS opened several years back, Abby being the daughter of the owner. Maisy lived nearby and started lessons right away, the same with Gloria.
One of the older trails, not often used, had been the trio's target that day. Gloria having an incurably adventurous and curious personality, wanted to explore the ruins of an old house, destroyed years ago in a fire. Even older were the ruins of a tomato factory, though it was many times older than the old house. However, when they found new tracks in the ancient road. Gloria insisted on investigating.
"Come on! Let's go see what went there," without further ado, she urged her horse, a bay Thoroughbred named Dance, onward.
Maisy followed as Gloria and Dance disapeared over the next hill, while Abby set off at a canter, as eager to find out what was there as Gloria. However, when they arrived, dismounted, and investigated the seemingly abandoned ruins, the surprise turned to horror.
What met their eyes was a raggedly, muddy, scraggly horse. It was a mare, standing in a puddle of mud left from the last thunderstorm. Spiritless, lifeless, broken and just plain sad.
"Oh lord," Maisy murmured, eyes glued to the mare's. They were beautiful, sorrowful eyes indeed. At first glance, they were dark blue, yet at closer look they were more of a violet-blue, speckled with white, so that one might get the impression of a violet lapis lazuli orb. They spoke quite a bit about the mare. Within them was sadness, memories of happiness that would never be again. The mare certainly knew her condition. She knew terror and injustice. Abby dismounted first, nearing the mare. The muddy horse peered at Abby, but didn't move from her spot, though they were all sure she would've backed away if she had the strength.
"Someone should go back to the farm," Abby pointed out, and turned to mount her gelding, Rudolph. She was off in a flash, the steady Arabian used to moving fast on uneven terrain, for Abby trained him in endurance riding.
"She looks so terrible," Gloria said, tying both Dance and Maisy's mount, a black Hanoverian lesson horse, to trees. Maisy was the only one of the three who did not have her own horse, but she rode Madel, the black, often.
"Yeah. But look at those eyes.. have you ever seen such beautiful eyes?" Maisy moved to the mare's side. Though she shuddered at first, she made no move to leave. Maisy stroked the mare's mud-caked neck, ran her fingers through the tangled mane, and moved to her face, stroking it evenly, she whispered, "Don't worry, girl.. no one will hurt you now."
The mare gave a sigh, as if she had been waiting a lifetime for those very words. She leaned forward, head pressing into Maisy's chest. Maisy looked over at Gloria, who was just watching, but soon moved back to Dance and Madel, reassuring herself they would never get in that condition.
~*~
"Shh, dear.. you're safe.. all safe. They're here to help," Maisy murmured to the mare when Abby returned with help. RRS's owner and manager, Kim Benden, arrived with a group from a nearby rescue society, as well as the farm vet. Once dismounted and near the mare, disbelief rang through the air. Maisy clung to the mare, by her head, as more people began arriving, some curious, some there for a reason.
"Well, she's in terrible condition, as anyone can see. Looks like she might be foundered, might have other injures. She needs a lot of TLC right now, is what I'd say," the vet announced after looking over the mare for a short time. "We should get her back to the farm. Might need to get a horse-stretcher down here. Can she move at all, girls?"
Maisy shrugged, then turned to the mare and whispered softly, "Lovely girl, can you walk? It's not too far to the farm... we have to get you there."
The mare looked up at Maisy, then at the others. She gave another low sigh, like she had been doing often for the past hour. Yet she didn't move. Gloria and Abby came over to try to help, but the mare was unable to move, though Maisy knew she wanted to. They would have to wait for help to come in the form of a horse-stretcher.
~*~
Later that afternoon, Maisy sat in one of the stalls in the isolation barn, the mare's head in her lap. Maisy had insisted on staying with the mare, and no one protested it except her parents, who weren't the horsiest people. Kim convinced them to let her stay overnight with the mare, and so she did.
Not long after their efforts to move the mare, the vet summoned a horse stretcher, which came fairly quickly, though the roads were muddy and torn up by rain. They hadn't risked going all the way to town to get to the vet's office, so the mare was settled into a roomy stall in the isolation barn. Maisy went right with her, feeling a bond already with the mare.
"Heyla, Maisy," Abby let herself into the stall carrying grooming supplies as well as other things the vet had brought to the farm.
Maisy looked up, "Heyla. I think she's very happy to be in a warm, safe place. Those from the vet?" she indicated the bundles Abby had just set down.
"Yup. We're to give her a thorough grooming and make sure she takes these medicines," she held up one bag, "and be sure she gets enough ice around that hurt leg. So let's get her standing."
Maisy smiled and stood, leaning down to press a kiss on the mare's muzzle, urging her to stand. The mare gave a few grunts, but slowly she rose. The two girls could almost hear bones creaking and mud crackling. Exchanging a look with her friend, Maisy plucked a curry comb out of the grooming kit and started to work on the mare's left side. Abby took the right, and they worked rythmically over the mare's coat, currying out what would come. They would move her to the grooming stall across the aisle once done for a de-licer treatment, a bath, among other things.
"You know, we should give her a name," Abby pointed out, moving the supplies across the aisle while Maisy lead the mare slowly over.
"I suppose we should. But what?"
"Well, you've been raving over her eyes since we found her. Maybe something to do with them?"
"They are beautiful eyes, though. But they looks so sorrowful," Maisy peered into the mare's eyes, "almost as if she's crying, but you can see happiness in there, at being saved."
"Yeah, I guess you can," Abby agreed, leaning over to look in the eyes herself. "Tears are glistening in them, it seems."
"Tears.. hmm," Maisy pondered, then brightened, "Tears of Love."
"Why's that?"
"Because she's crying tears of happiness, tears of joy, tears of love for those who saved her."
Abby chucked a harmless piece of hay at Maisy, "You're too poetic, you know. But that sounds good. So her nickname is Tears?"
Maisy nodded, "Tears it is. I hope whoever let her get in this condition pays for it."
"Well, we saw the police there when we were leaving. They'll want to talk to us, probably. Sometime."
"Of course. Hand me the de-licer, please," Maisy said, getting Tears's coat ready on her side while Abby was already working it in on hers. "I think she likes this. It's like a massage, to her."
Abby grinned, "Well, there'll be more of this by the time we're done. We'll have her squeaky clean. If the color of her face is any indication, she'll be right lovely when we're done."
"Dappled gray, I'll bet."
"I'll take you on that bet."