[Phase 1] First Impressions

Katrina picks up the file for what feels like the hundredth time. When the rescue had first reached out to her she’d been shocked. That shock quickly turned to sorrow when they offered her the records on the chestnut mare. The folder included a short paragraph on the mare’s life prior to the rescue and included a few pictures. It hurt Katrina to imagine just what that horse had been through to be in the current position she was.

The rattle of a truck trailer, rocked by the dirt and gravel driveway, snaps her out of her thoughts. Setting the file back on the counter, she heads outside to greet the rescue team and her new rescue horse. A man steps from the driver’s side of the truck, a large and bearded fellow with a kind smile, “Katrina?”

The woman summons a smile in response, “Yes, that’s me. Thank you for bringing her out here.”

They shake hands, the man’s smile turning a little bittersweet, “You’re welcome. We were just happy to find someone willing to take her on.”

Katrina scratches the back of her neck, “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to help her, but I want to try.”

“That’s all we ask and honestly, all we can hope for,” he turns, leading her behind the truck to the trailer. “Not every rescue can be saved, but even just giving them a greater quality of life is better than the conditions they were in before.”

Katrina grabs a rope halter off of a nearby fence post, “I don’t have any other horses on the ranch at the moment, so I’ll have plenty of time to devote to her care.”

The rescue member undoes the latches and locks on the trailer until he can slowly lower the ramp, revealing the mare inside. The mare, a chestnut plum roan snowcap appaloosa, looks miserable. Her coat is rumpled in areas, indicating a lack of self-hygiene and care. The roundness to her midsection and the thickness in her neck reveal an ongoing weight issue, likely due to the lack of mobility. Her eyes are wide, her nostrils flared, and her ears are laid back; fear or pain. The mare has her left front hoof raised, unwilling to put any weight down on it.

The mare neighs and snorts, shifting her weight a little as the rescuer reaches inside to undo the tie latch on the halter. When his knuckles brush against her chin, she jerks back with a panicked exhale through her nostrils, trying to gain some distance from him in the small space. Immediately, once she’s free of the latch, he backs away, giving her space and time to calm down.

“I don’t know exactly what happened to her in her old home, but she’s scared of people to some degree,” the rescuer takes a few more steps back, “One of my co-worker’s had to load her in the trailer for me. You might have better luck with her than I do.”

Katrina takes a breath and nods, easing her voice into a gentle tone when she next speaks, “Hey sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay. I know things are scary but we’re gonna get you figured out, okay?” The handler makes sure to stand in a position the horse can see her from, hands raised with one empty and the other holding the rope halter.

The mare settles a little, still on high alert. The slow and tender approach seems to help her though and Katrina is able to get closer without putting her into a panic. As she gets within arms length, Katrina extends her empty hand, fingers together and palm up, to allow the mare to sniff her and become familiar with her scent.

It takes a few long moments, while the mare sniffs her hand, before she starts to relax further. Only then does Katrina keep going, “That’s a good girl. I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help. You’re doing great, sweetheart. You’re being so good.” The girl keeps up the soft murmurs of comfort as she removes the current halter and places the rope halter over her head, securing it in place.

For the most part, the chestnut mare remains calm. Her ears remain alert, her eyes weary, but she doesn’t try to jerk away nor does she exhibit any panic. Katrina is happy to take what she can get.

Slowly, the handler steps back, holding onto the lead of the rope halter, “Come on, hun. Let’s get you out of this stuffy trailer, huh?” Clicking her tongue, she coaxes the horse to walk, guiding her toward the ramp. This is where the real problems begin. The horse doesn’t want to move, gingerly keeping her hoof raised. Katrina frowns, eyeing the mare’s raised hoof. She could tell the horse was in pain and likely lame, but she hoped she’d be willing to walk at least a little. That was proving more difficult than she first thought. And hoped.

The rescuer chimes in, keeping his distance to avoid stressing out the mare, “Getting her to walk or move has been the hardest part for us. She’s in pain from the abscess that develops and doesn’t want to put any weight on her hooves. The vet checked her this morning and cleared her to leave. I wonder if standing in the trailer made any forming abscess worse.”

Katrina hums, eying the mare’s weight but needing to get her out of the trailer and into a stall, “Is she food motivated?”

“Sometimes, if the pain is mild you can get her to move with apples.”

The handler nods and hands him the lead, “Hold that. I’ll slice an apple real quick.”

The rescuer takes the rope lead and nods, watching the mare from the end of the lead while Katrina runs into the house.

She makes quick work of an apple, slicing it into eight pieces and discarding the core before stuffing it into a baggie. She grabs her training pouch that she keeps the biscuits and grain in, ties it around her waist, and drops the sliced apple into the pocket.

Katrina comes jogging out five minutes later and takes the offered rope back. The mare hadn’t budged an inch from where she’d left her, “Thanks.” With her eyes on the mare, she reaches into her pocket with her free hand and produces an apple slice a moment later for the horse to see, “Here, hun. Come on over and you can have some apple. I hope you like honeycrisp.”

The mare’s nostrils flare as she breathes in the sweet taste of the apple. She considers it for only a second before she takes a tentative step toward Katrina. When Katrina doesn’t back away and even extends her hand closer, the horse keeps taking slow steps from the trailer to close the distance to the juicy apple slice. She stands on her lame hoof only as long as she needs to, making her way to Katrina until she’s able to extend her neck and grab the apple slice with her lips. Happily, the chestnut horse crunches the crisp apple slice then sniffs, looking around for more.

Katrina takes a few steps back, now far enough away that the mare will have exited the trailer by the time she’s in range to enjoy the next treat. She pulls out another slice and this time there’s no hesitation. Once the mare is clear of the trailer and the ramp, the rescuer steps around her to lift the ramp and lock it in place against the trailer.

The handler gives the mare another slice of apple as she looks up to address the gentleman that dropped her off, “Thank you again for bringing her. I haven’t had a chance to purchase a new trailer.”

He waves off the gratitude with a smile, “I was happy to do it. We’ll check in with you periodically to see how she’s doing and please reach out to us if you need anything.”

They shake hands once more before the rescuer climbs back into his truck and turns around in the open space to make his way back down the drive and out of the ranch.

Once the crunch of dirt and gravel becomes background noise, Katrina resumes her work with the lame mare, “Come on, sweetheart. Just a little more and you can rest today. I’ll call the vet out to take a look at that hoof.” Using the remainder of the apple, the handler manages to get the mare to the barn and into the stall she prepared for her. Already loaded into the stall is a fresh trough of water, a net of hay, and fresh straw bedding.

Katrina walks the mare into the roomy stall then undoes the rope halter so she can remove it from her head. Gently, she scratches the side of her neck, “Get used to your new home tonight. I’ll come back to check on you later, sweetheart.”

She steps around the mare, walking through the door of the stall before closing it behind her and sliding the latch in place. Katrina stands there for several minutes just watching her new charge. The mare remains mostly still, moving very little as she sniffs around her accommodations. Eventually, she finds her way to the hay net and enjoys a few mouthfuls before laying down to take the weight off her hoof and catch a nap.

Eventually, Katrina steps away, heading back into her house to put in a call with her local vet, intent on starting this off on the right hoof.