The Evolution of a Horse Rescuer

written by C. Atkinson

Like many horse owners, I grew up around people who had old-fashioned ideas about horses, and this is who I learned from. When I was 17, I knew that it was fine to deworm horses only every six months, that horses who were “crazy” should get shipped to slaughter and that was what it was there for, and that it didn’t make sense to put any kind of money into a horse who was retired or unusable. If someone let that horse sit in the backyard and eat, that horse was pretty lucky. If it died from something, well, we all have to die sometime. These were things that the people around me believed, and I had no reason to doubt or disagree with them.

I started working in the horse business professionally shortly after high school. As I worked for better and better barns, my standard of horse care escalated. I learned how to properly wrap a leg. I learned how to treat conditions like thrush, and to give vaccinations. I learned that deworming must take place every 6-8 weeks, and that the type must be rotated so that the worms do not develop resistance. I learned what a good hoof trim looks like. I learned about nutrition and dental care. Every person I worked for, I learned something new.

Along the way, I learned some things that weren’t as positive. I learned how to tie a horse’s head around, to longe with the reins run between the front legs and tied up over the back so that the horse would “pop” himself every time he moved…all of the tricks for getting the low “peanut roller” headset that was desirable. I worked for an Arabian barn that ran elastic through pads on the horses’ shoes and worked them that way to fraudulently develop Saddlebred-like action. Their farrier pulled off the pads right at the horseshows, just before the class. Sometimes I did see things that I really couldn’t get involved in. I had an opportunity for a cushy job with housing working for a Saddlebred barn, but after one visit, seeing the horses sitting in their stalls in bitting rigs, covered with white sweat in the 90+ degree Chicago heat, I turned tail and ran. But for the most part, I was like most young people – I assumed I was the one who didn’t know what I was doing, and I went along with what the “adults” and “professionals” said to do.

Along the way, I started going to horse auctions. I was paid by a dealer to tack up and ride horses through the ring. They sell better with a 20 year old girl in a tight t-shirt and cutoffs on them. I was friendly with all of the old dealers, but I was already starting to change into a different kind of person. They knew if they had a skinny Thoroughbred in dire straits, that I might be interested. They started to tell me about horses and work with me. I could tell they thought I was silly, but they humored me. One time I got a dealer to unload half of a sardine-can-tight load of horses to pull off a Thoroughbred mare whose eyes I would not have been able to forget. She went home with me. I started turning old broodmares into adorable short-stirrup hunters for my lesson students. I picked up “runt” Quarter Horses and made them into hunter ponies.

And so my evolution began. I stopped working for people who were abusive. I realized I could pick and choose employers who were good to their horses and had high standards for care. I walked away from the breed shows I had been involved with because I couldn’t stand to see the 2 year olds being loped for 45 minutes to wear them down to win the big bucks the next day. I thought about where those horses would be in 5 years…twisted legged, prematurely arthritic and hobbling into sale rings to go on the slaughter truck. When I look back, it was all about thinking…taking the time to think through the things I saw people do and their likely consequences.

I got a lot of flack from people I had known for years as my beliefs changed. To this day, I have friends of 20+ years who cannot fathom why I have my 27 and 28 year old on retirement board that costs me over 20% of my take-home income every month. I understand that I have a responsibility to those two horses for life. My ex-boyfriend, a millionaire who owned them with me and played many polo tournaments on them, contributes nothing. He has stayed like the people we grew up with – to him, the horse is like a golf cart, and if it doesn’t run anymore, you get rid of it and get a new one. There are many people we will never change. Many refuse to think for fear that they may develop the beliefs rescuers have – that a horse is not a thing, that it is instead a living creature that deserves to be safe, fed, loved and cared for. That belief is frightening because it is an expensive belief, a belief that will result in a stunning change of priorities for most people, and one that their friends and families will not understand.

Today, I am a typical broke rescuer, despite having what should be a very good income for a single person. My horses have everything, and most are not “useful” in any traditional way. I have a blind one, a lame one, one with a bad heart. I continue to rescue on whatever scale I can afford at a given time. There is nothing in my life that is as fulfilling as seeing a skinny, sick horse return to glowing health and go on to a new home. My prior life, where horses were commodities that were only as valuable as the job they could do, is so foreign to me that it is hard to believe I lived it.

If you are reading this, you are one of us or you are on your way. Think hard. You will give up many things if the way you think about horses changes. Job opportunities, if you are in the business. Personal luxuries like pedicures and Kate Spade bags if you are not. You will be hard pressed to find a man who wants to come live with you and help support seven useless but expensive horses. You may lose friends when you feel compelled to speak out about their horse care or their training practices. They will not like it when you suggest that they should get a second job or scale back their Nordstrom’s addiction in order to keep providing for the permanently lame horse that they really just want to “get rid of.” You will get frustrated about the endless sea of other people’s messes that you must clean up, and frustrated about the lack of funds to do so.

Every morning, you will go out and feed the horses who used to be skinny that now glow with health. The horses who used to be scared of people will walk up to you and bury their noses in your chest. They will follow you around like dogs, because they know you to be the source of all that is good. You will never receive a review at work or a compliment from a human that makes you feel as wonderful as a horse who used to have that dead-eyed, hang-dog look whinnying when they see you.

It’s all about thinking. Are you brave enough to start?