Through the Eyes of a Horse
Published by GHC • Mar 2nd, 2009 • Category: Fiction, by Violet Inkpenby Violet Inkpen, age 12
My name was once Freckles. I was born to a quiet stable in a land of lush green grass and beautiful sunlight. My mom was pure white and my dad was white with black spots. I was born with a white coat and a whole lot of little black ‘freckles’. My owner was kind; he knew horses well. But one day he didn’t come to feed us. His daughter, who was about 13, ran into the barn and released all of the 10 horses into the big pasture. She then cantered away (although my canter is MUCH faster) and went into the smaller barn where the humans keep their stalls. Soon after that a white truck came into the yard and three men hurried into the human stable. They came out carrying my owner on a little long thing. The girl wrapped her arms around my neck (I was around 5 years old when all this took place) and cried in my mane.
I told her it was okay; I told her I would protect her. She whispered to me, she told me her father was very sick.
It was about seven days later that the small family had to start selling horses. I was distressed; they had loved me, ridden me, and I had been their best friend and now they might sell me! My owner hadn’t come home but the girl and her mother went to see him every day. Finally the day came where a man took me away. I never knew what became of my owner; he was too sick to say goodbye. But the girl did; she cried and wailed and hugged me tightly. I pulled at her hair, I told her I didn’t blame her. My new owner took me away.
I was hoping for a nice home like my old one. What I got was fear. I was packed in a small enclosed area with hundreds of other horses. I could hardly see. Then I was led out into a huge place with tons of people. One man stood in the middle calling out numbers. I guess I was being sold again.
This time a mean looking man bought me. I was led into a large trailer and I waited. Before the night was over ten more horses followed me. Then we were driven for a long time. I was hungry, I was tired, I wanted out.
I waited a long time; the sky grew dark and I had a hard time seeing my fellow horses. “Where do you come form? Where are we going?” A very young horse asked. I figured him to be only a year, one of his legs looked twisted and crooked. “I don’t know,” I said sadly. But I would soon find out…
Our destination was even more crowded with horses and a HUGE HUGE barn. The barn was for humans but horses were being led in. I was shoved in a tiny space with tons of horses on either side to wait. I could hear horses screaming, I could hear their cries for help cut short. I then realized what was happening…
Slaughter.
At that moment my name didn’t matter, the love that I once shared with a little girl didn’t matter. The fact that I was white with black freckles DIDN’T matter. I was going to be killed. But why? I couldn’t figure it out.
I had always been good to humans; I did what they asked, I took them where they asked, I even listened and shared secrets with them! My human family said they loved me; and I loved them. I hated my owner’s sickness; I wished he was okay again. I hung my head in sadness; my life was full of goodness and here I stood, waiting to die. Nothing made sense, but I could smell death, I could hear it, I could feel it. I don’t think my owners meant this to happen; I think they wanted a good home for me. Nothing was as it should have been.
The days passed and I wasn’t even given a last meal! There were still many horses before me who were being killed. I tried to drown myself in memories of the past, but nothing could take my mind off my growling stomach. I was sure I looked older than my age; my mane felt flat and matted, my tail didn’t fly gracefully, my ears were flat and my eyes dull. I didn’t care though because no one else did.
I knew my life would soon be over but still I clung to hope; hope for freedom. My mom told me stories about mustangs, wild horses. I wanted to be free. So I summoned the last fighting spirit I had and reared up. “Break down the fences! Run for it!” I shouted. The horses around me looked up, a new light shinning in their eyes. All at once every horse still alive shouted out my cry and reared, the words rang through the air until even the ones inside the building heard. That day a few hundred horses escaped.
I never understood slaughter but my heart goes out to those who are waiting to be killed. I am now enjoying lush grass in the wild; along with many, many other horses. I still feel love for my old owners but I could never go back. If I did they might need to sell me again and NOTHING is worth being back in that place.
Why do humans kill horses?
The slaughter should end.
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That is such an amazing blog. Is it true?
Champion story Inkpen! If only it were that easy for horses to escape… I have heard though that it happens. Slaughter should end… and I believe one day somehow.. it will.
~HF
Oh, how did the horses escape?
Yes, Peanut. Unfortunately, horse slaughter is a real thing.
It is important to keep spreading the word about horse slaughter through stories like these!! I agree with HorseFeathers- slaughter should stop and I think one day it will stop. I know some horse stables are ending their breeding programs to stop the problem of too many unwanted horses that go to the slaughterhouse.
This is such a breathtaking story, I’m completely in love with it. Hopefully more people will read it, realise what horrible things are happening to horses and take a stand. All the horses constantly need us to be their voices, and it’s great to know that you have :) Beautiful writing, Violet Inkpen, keep it up!
Thanks guys, I am so happy you all think so highly of my story! No Peanut, the horse isn’t real but the basic idea of how horses end up in slaughter it true. And the horses escaped by working together to break down the fences.
I love writing fiction and I am going to kee writing stories like these. Hopefully Lead Mare will publish more of them!
Horse slaughter is um complicated….. some peolple hate it but think in some cases it’s nessasery and if you look a little deeper you might think that too. i think occasionally it i nessasary because slaughter is better than a long, slow, horrible death due to neglect. That is besides the point, Inkpen, WONDERFUL STORY!!!!!! your a writer for sure!
Ginger, yes sometimes putting them down is better than seeing them starve. I am not against putting horses to sleep that NEED it done so they won’t suffer. It’s the WAY they do it. They TORTOURE horses. they stabb them then hand them upsidedown, which horses CAN’T BREATHE upsidedown.
It is sad to think about this. Anyone who would want to physically beat and torture any human or animal has something wrong with their mind heart and soul. Hey Violet you going to be a JB maybe? You do a great job with everything
~HF
Wow HorseFeather that means a WHOLE lot to me! I am trying to find writing competions through my Homeschool thing and other oppertunities to write but it ins’t easy.
I would LOVE to be a JB but Fiction dosn’t count towards the 4 posts and I am leaving in two days for a 2 week mission trip OUR OF COUNTRY. I will miss you all.
wish me luck
V iolet
I nk
P en
(P.S. the other day I saw an inkpen and violet ink! LOL!)
Yeah Vi but havent you already posted over 4 blogs? Ive read so many writings from you it seems like it. lol. Oh a missions trip? not to get off topic but our church is going to Honduras. God bless you on your travels! =0)
~HF
That’s a fantastic blog, Violet Inkpen! It was written in a horse’s perspective, and I love those types of stories. :)
mustangmane
P.S. It really should end, though. I mean, it’s illegal in the U.S. but they should make it illegal EVERYWHERE.
Horsefeather, no I have had ‘What Happened To Childhood Dreams’, ‘Through The Eyes Of A Horse (which dosn’t count cause it is fiction), and this one. So I need two more none-fiction blogs if I want to qualify for a JB but the spots might be already filled.
and thanks. I’m going to the Dominician Republic with my grandma. No parents. YAHOO!
Have fun on your missions trip, Violet Inkpen! I will pray for you! I thought you have written over 4 blogs, too. I guess not.
no but soon I am going to have more published and qualify for a JB. I checked the calendar. I am having TONS of blogs posted this week and I’ll be gone! Bo ho ho!
you guys, soon i’ll have 6 posts! I can’t wait! check the calendar, on the 13 both are mine! wow….this is so cool! I LOVE this site!
Awesome Job Violet Inkpen! can’t wait to her more of your blogs, stories, and poems!
(Have you written any poems lately, or at all?)
~Eastern Cowgirls
Yeah Eastern Cowgirl, I have written a few poems that are getting published in the next few days. Check the calendar; there are plenty of poems by me. And blogs. I am glad you all like this so much cause I literally was making it up as I went along. When I sat down to write I didn’t know what I was going to write about. ‘My name was once Freckles’. I wondered why I put ONCE and built a whole story around the word that I accidentaly typed.