I got my horse back on Monday, at least temporarily, and as soon as I saw him, I vowed to always keep him in my care forever.
He was leased to this woman for a little over 3 months. He came to her overweight and healthy. On Monday, I saw a bone-thin and lame horse. I felt sick when I saw him. I can count his ribs no matter which angle I look at him. His hip bones are sticking out. Running my hand along his back, I can feel the bones along his spine. I didn’t even know he was lame until the day before we picked him up. It turns out he has been lame and hurting for at least a month, and the woman never did anything about it. Within two days of being home, we have resolved his lameness issue and gotten him back on a proper feeding schedule.
This week, I have been more angry than I have been in my entire life. And somehow, it’s okay. It’s a protective anger coming from a protective part, and that makes it okay. I have spent days preparing a letter to this woman and have had to hold myself back from cussing her out because I’m just so angry. I love this horse more than anything in this world, and to see her treat him like that infuriates me. I’m enormously relieved to have him back and under my care, but every time I see him and see his ribs sticking out, I feel that anger bursting forward again.
A part of me is relieved that I feel this anger, this protectiveness, because it lets me know that I’m a real person. That I’m not dead inside or totally unable to feel any love for anything.
But the rest of me is just angry.