Nä, men varför inte gråta en skvätt en onsdag som denna?

 
 
The story of a horse 

 

Seven is the number of years I serve my owner, trotting, walking, loping, quiet, and gentle.

I carry her children, husband, friends, neighbors.

I have plenty of hay, horse friends, and time to myself.

Green pastures, blue skies, I am at peace.

 

Six is the number of months I carry on in pain after falling.

I do it for her, anything for her.

She is impatient with me. I try hard to keep up, but the pain slows me down.

Every step hurts. No one wants to ride me, a new horse arrives to carry on in my place.

I do not know this word: "useless."

 

Five is the number of hours I stand in the small pen at the auction.

I hurt, I do not know these horses, I do not know these people.

I'm far from my pasture.

I search for comfort, switching weight off my painful leg, the people notice.

I do not know this word: "lame."

 

Four is the number of times my value is calculated by my weight.

I don't understand their words but I can read their eyes.

Hard stares. I try to be invisible, but they see me.

I do not know this word: "slaughter."

 

Three is the number of sniffs I take of your face through the pen

before deciding you are kind and safe. I like your eyes, they are soft.

I like your hands they are gentle. Please don't leave me here.

I try to pick my feet up for you, it hurts. I try hard. I rest my muzzle in your hand.

 

Two is the number of minutes it takes for me to pass through another pen.

I am scared, I am trapped, I am alone, people are shouting, it hurts to walk.

A man is talking, his voice echo's all around me, there are so many people watching me, hard stares.

Suddenly it's over.

I do not know this word: "sold."

 

One is the number of hours it takes before I walk onto a trailer.

I am alone, I am scared, it is moving.

The door opens, I hold my breath and brace at the light. It's you!

I stand still and breathe slow. Kind hands, soft words, I'm not afraid now.

I do not know this word: "rescued."

 

Two is the number of xrays the vet takes while I stand quietly for you, anything for you.

Many days have passed. I have energy now, my pain is less.

I like my new pasture, I like my new stall, I like my new hay.

I don't know why we have a vet but I stand still for his visits. So many visits.

I do not know this word: "rehabilitation."

 

Three is the number of months before the pain is all the way gone.

I am relaxed with you, we start to ride together.

I'm afraid the pain will come back, but you are gentle, so I try.

I try hard for you, anything for you.

 

Four is the number of weeks I learn a new way of riding.

Another person rides me every day.

I'm becoming strong, I understand my lessons, I am proud to work.

I feel you are happy with me, visiting me and learning together.

I do not know this word: "training."

 

Five is the number of years I work hard for you.

We travel to shows, we ride with friends.

We do hundreds and hundreds of miles together. 

You trust me and I trust you.

I give you everything I have, everything for you, anything for you.

I memorize your rhythm, your looks, your moods.

I know when to be wild and when to be still. We are a team.

 

Six is the number of minutes I try to hide the pain after a fall, but you see through me.

I stand for the vet, still as a stone. The pain leaves but I sense your sadness.

I remember a word from before when I had pain, "useless", but you never say that word.

You no longer ride me but I see you every day, for carrots and treats and long walks.

I relax again, you will not abandon me. This is a new way of being together.

I do not know this word: "retired."

 

Seven is the number of breaths I take in your arms.

It has been many years, we have grown old and wise and slow together.

I lay down like so many times before but could not rise. You came right away.

I tried for you, but I could not stand. You say its ok, sink down next to me.

I breathe slow. You are very close, holding my head, weeping.

I feel your sadness so I put my muzzle in your hand one last time to comfort you, anything for you.

I breathe out. Green pastures, blue skies, I am at peace.

I know this word: "loved."

 

 

 

 

 

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