The next chapter
Meet Mrs. Kota of North Dakota.
Uh, seriously, this will be the LAST time this name will be used.
I had a feeling that if I felt I was right about the return and the foal was a filly that she'd be named Saorsa. And all around it seems appropriate. And to those who might be reading this who have particular care for that word, I am NOT doing this lightly. But I am exhausted and not going to make a huge case for it. Oh, and femblagh, if you would like to offer a pronunciation check it would be appreciated. ~;)
The trip did not go as planned, of course. The plan was for Aaron and I to pack up the pack and ride down separately from the haulers. So, after me getting only a few hours sleep due to my class, going to class and planning to get in some nap time, well....Bran refused to eat his dinner. When BRAN doesn't eat you know he's sick. So I didn't sleep. And then we decided he really needed to go to the vet, fearing that if we carted him to the Rutland area he'd died somewhere along the way. So...with me already exhausted we finally managed to decide that I would ride down with the haulers and Aaron would stay and try to get Bran to the vet.
He did, they xrayed and couldn't find anything...so it's wait and see. I'm glad we didn't drag him out for the much longer ride, but, you know, I was hoping for more of an answer than that.
Anyway. I didn't really sleep on the way down of course. Skipping to the part you want to know we got there and this is what we saw:
This is her and a paint buddy keeping her company while she waited. Although she's ignoring me at this point, she was very alert and taking things in. And very scared and wild.
It was a bit of an ordeal to get her in, she really didn't think it was a good idea. The trip home was even less sleep inducing but I was actually feeling less physical affects. We stopped a few times and I would talk to her, but she kept her distance. When we got home we managed to make a chute out of metal gates and hay bales, as it didn't rain as forecast. She wasn't coming out of the trailer now. I got in and managed to touch her face briefly, then she moved away from me, I hooked my arm around in front of her to get her to move away from my hand and got her to finally move out.
She then walked right along into the stall, nosed the clean bedding and pooped. That's that. She's home.
Her special foal grain was NOT a hit.
BTW, she is NOT a regular bay despite what it looks like in these photos. She's a bay dun. I was surprised to find how dark and red she is.
She is also not a Canadian refugee, she was born in North Dakota, I'm sad to find that there are still PMU farms there. She had been sent to auction, apparently, in Canada.
She is a registered American Quarter Horse, whose registration will probably remain forever in the name of her breeder. Why? Because the AQHA is totally, 100% and absolutely pro-horse slaughter. They have fought hard to keep it and are fighting hard to prevent the Horse Protection Act from going through. Because they're "brilliant" breeding program is all about quantity over quality. I know it will probably be a pointless act, but I will be writing to them telling them that I refuse to join and transfer because they're not getting one red cent of my money unless they change this policy.
And, yes, she's goopy eyed, a bit goopy nosed and underweight and undoubtedly wormy. But she still manages to be amazingly cute.
Uh, seriously, this will be the LAST time this name will be used.
I had a feeling that if I felt I was right about the return and the foal was a filly that she'd be named Saorsa. And all around it seems appropriate. And to those who might be reading this who have particular care for that word, I am NOT doing this lightly. But I am exhausted and not going to make a huge case for it. Oh, and femblagh, if you would like to offer a pronunciation check it would be appreciated. ~;)
The trip did not go as planned, of course. The plan was for Aaron and I to pack up the pack and ride down separately from the haulers. So, after me getting only a few hours sleep due to my class, going to class and planning to get in some nap time, well....Bran refused to eat his dinner. When BRAN doesn't eat you know he's sick. So I didn't sleep. And then we decided he really needed to go to the vet, fearing that if we carted him to the Rutland area he'd died somewhere along the way. So...with me already exhausted we finally managed to decide that I would ride down with the haulers and Aaron would stay and try to get Bran to the vet.
He did, they xrayed and couldn't find anything...so it's wait and see. I'm glad we didn't drag him out for the much longer ride, but, you know, I was hoping for more of an answer than that.
Anyway. I didn't really sleep on the way down of course. Skipping to the part you want to know we got there and this is what we saw:
This is her and a paint buddy keeping her company while she waited. Although she's ignoring me at this point, she was very alert and taking things in. And very scared and wild.
It was a bit of an ordeal to get her in, she really didn't think it was a good idea. The trip home was even less sleep inducing but I was actually feeling less physical affects. We stopped a few times and I would talk to her, but she kept her distance. When we got home we managed to make a chute out of metal gates and hay bales, as it didn't rain as forecast. She wasn't coming out of the trailer now. I got in and managed to touch her face briefly, then she moved away from me, I hooked my arm around in front of her to get her to move away from my hand and got her to finally move out.
She then walked right along into the stall, nosed the clean bedding and pooped. That's that. She's home.
Her special foal grain was NOT a hit.
BTW, she is NOT a regular bay despite what it looks like in these photos. She's a bay dun. I was surprised to find how dark and red she is.
She is also not a Canadian refugee, she was born in North Dakota, I'm sad to find that there are still PMU farms there. She had been sent to auction, apparently, in Canada.
She is a registered American Quarter Horse, whose registration will probably remain forever in the name of her breeder. Why? Because the AQHA is totally, 100% and absolutely pro-horse slaughter. They have fought hard to keep it and are fighting hard to prevent the Horse Protection Act from going through. Because they're "brilliant" breeding program is all about quantity over quality. I know it will probably be a pointless act, but I will be writing to them telling them that I refuse to join and transfer because they're not getting one red cent of my money unless they change this policy.
And, yes, she's goopy eyed, a bit goopy nosed and underweight and undoubtedly wormy. But she still manages to be amazingly cute.