(photos of Tuscany will be available asap)

Monday started out like a typical day of putting up fliers in Mt. Hope. One of the ways that we normally promote our Amish Horse Health Seminars is to post fliers at all the businesses, harness shops and Amish gathering places in Holmes County. We have a horse seminar coming up on Thursday, March 20th, in Mt. Hope, and planned to hang fliers up in the area this past Monday, March 10th.

Eileen Roloff, Happy Trails volunteer, horse foster mom, horse adoptive mom, and helper with the Amish Horse Health Seminars, and myself, Happy Trails Director, set off for Holmes County on what I thought would be a typical day of distributing fliers. After posting some fliers at various businesses and enjoying a nice lunch at Mrs. Yoder's Kitchen Restaurant in Mt. Hope, we wondered over to the Mt. Hope Auction to hang up some fliers there. Again, a typical thing for us to do.

However, we soon realized that the auction parking lot was filled with horse trailers and the gravel-y sound of an auctioneer's voice was booming out from the auction pit inside. Monday was not a normal day for a horse auction. A friendly Amish man explained to us that the snow storm on Saturday resulted in the usual horse auction being cancelled, so it was rescheduled for Monday.

I quickly realized that even though the horses that I watched going through the auction right then were being sold for a higher amount, there were plenty of horses that were not going to bring in much. There were three meat-buyers on hand to take care of that.

Though the several existing horse slaughter plants in the U.S. were closed this past year, meat-buyers still purchase the unwanted horses and send them on a horrific journey to either a Mexican or Canadian horse slaughterhouse, where they are slaughtered, stripped, and shipped overseas for human consumption.

And yes, I do call them unwanted horses. If they were wanted, they would not be at the auction. In the past, I've picked up mostly auction horses that are older, lame, injured, or unable to work in some capacity. This is usually a convenient way for many folks to get rid of their useless horse without much trouble or effort on their part. Plus, they get a few dollars for it. Sad but true.

Many beautiful and gentle Standardbreds were whisked through the auction, going to the meat buyers for $225 to $375. Tons of them. It's always incredibly sad to me to watch this series of events at a horse meat-auction, knowing where they are destined to go and hoping that they are mercifully unaware of their journey that lies ahead. I always wish that the folks who are excited about being back-yard breeders could follow one of these horses through their entire journey to a foreign slaughterhouse.

I watched some horses go through the auction for next to nothing, but due to noise and commotion, was not able to successfully bid on any that I hoped to bring home. The auction quickly drew to a close, and I made my way over to one of the meat buyers. After I sealed the deal wiht a handshake with the meat man who had purchased the one terrified horse that I had my eye one, and my paid my usual additional $50 over auction price, I trotted off to find my new rescue in a sea of stalls, Amish men, loud voices, and commotion. I sadly watched as a mix of beautiful Standardbreds and other grade horses were herded into the meat trailers, their handsome faces looking inquisitively at me from out of the side slats of the trailers. I walked away with tears streaming down my face, determined to find the little filly in the midst of all the drama.

I finally discovered her in a tie-stall, a stall just big enough for the horse to stand in while tied to the wall. There's always barely enough room in a tie-stall to sneak past a horse, and she didn't seem too happy at my presence of wanting to get past her thin body and make my way to her head. In a wave of brilliance and knowing that she was a terrified horse ready walking the thin line of terror, I requested the help of one of the auction workers. I asked that she be moved into a box stall where she could walk about freely until I could get back later that evening with a horse trailer to pick her up. The nice worker obliged, and gave her the normal pat on the rump and tried to slide past her. The little filly tried to rear up, threw herself backwards and violently from side to side, body slamming the nice man into the side of the tie stall. Unhurt, he still made his way to the front of her head and managed to untie her and wrestled her into a box stall across the aisle.

Every noise frightened her...every movement, every sound, every motion. I could not get near her in her stall. What did I just buy? But my heart went out to her, and I simply knew that she would be ok eventually with the right care and handling. You could tell that under her crunchy manure exterior, she was beautiful. She was solid black, with a long flowing mane, and graceful tail that swept the ground behind her when she walked. After leaving her some hay and fresh water, I promised her through the stall gate that I'd be back later with a trailer to take her to someplace safe and that she'd be ok.

I had to wait for Happy Trails Board Member and horse hauler, Rob Willard, to get off work that evening to help me haul this unpredicable youngster back to the sanctuary, and so after dropping off a few more fliers, Eileen and I headed home.  Rob and I arrived at the auction house in Mt. Hope around 10pm. This alread long day was getting even longer. We found the filly alone, in a now earily-quiet auction house. All the other horses were gone, and she greeted us with a loud whinny. Rob caught her and handed her to me. While he watched for a line of cows to get unloaded nearby, I worked with the scared girl. First a neck massage and soothing words.  "No-one's going to hurt you. You'll be coming with me to Happy Trails, a place where the people will be kind to you and you won't have to be afraid any more." She seemed to like being scratched on her chest and shoulders. I topped off the massage and inspirational talk with Reike, an energy healing. Any movement at all seemed to put her on edge. Any time I got near her face, she would throw herself backwards, as if waiting to be hit. Her eyes would blink in fear. I was wondering to myself, how much abuse did she have to experience to get to this point, and how in the world was I ever going to get her onto the trailer? I was not hopeful.

Finally, the cows were unloaded and we were given the ok to come out of the stall and head to our trailer. I continued to explain to her what was goig to happen, hoping that somehow or other I was getting through to her. Though nervous, she quielty followed me over to the trailer. The trailer that we brought this time was a step-up. She stopped at the opening. My heart pounded,and my voice was more steady and confident than what I felt. "It's ok, we're going home now. I promise you'll be safe." She sniffed the floor and look around. As inspection followed. Eyes wide with nervousness, she inspected the floor, the doors, the area outside the trailer and Rob, who stood next to her. Finally she decided I just wasn't whistlin' Dixie and that I was able to be trusted. With a leap of faith, she carefully stepped up onto the trailer and followed me to the from where I slowly settled her in safely. "I would be riding up front," I assured her, "and would see her in about an hour and a half."

Tuscany, a pretty name for a pretty little filly, is what I decided to call the manure encrusted creature that now graces a stall at Happy Trails. She is learning trust in leaps and bounds. The first day in her stall, you could barely get inside the gate with her. Now, five days later, she is taking hay from our hands and wiping her wet and inquisitive muzzle through our hair if we stand still long enough for her to inspect. 

She still has rules, which are changing slightly every day. We are allowed to stand near her, but she still will not allow us to touch her. We are doing all the work without a lead rope at this point, to let her know that it can all be her idea. We tell her how beautiful that we know she is under her cement-like manure coat, and that we love her already. She loves us back as much as she can at this point, but I believe her love for us can only grow. And when she is no longer fearful of being smacked in the head or abused in whatever fashion has created such an intense fear in her, I believe she is going to be a fanstastic horse for some lucky horse-lover.

My only sadness that remains is for the horses that left the auction for the pain of a cold, dismal slaughterhouse instead of the warm, comforting sanctuary that Tuscany now gets to experience.

To sponsor a rescued horse at Happy Trails, click here, and go to page 10. Your support helps us to provide them with proper nutrition, shelter, medical attention, worming, hoof care, teeth floating, and other special needs they may require.

We will provide updates as to our progress with Tuscany, so be sure to check our website periodically for the latest news!