Horse abuse

["guest@endurance.net" <guest@endurance.net>]

Christian Love clove@lincpfp.com
I first wrote this as just a reply to one person, then I though I would share with everyone - maybe it will help someone else stop the abuse that is out there in many different horse disciplines.  Be careful this is LONG!!!

I must say that I agree with your remark about TWH having wonderful minds and they are some of the sweetest horses I know.  I also think that their amazing tolerance has hurt them.  Because they are so tolerant, trainers and abusers have been able to do horrific things to them.  I believe that if you tried to do some of the things to an Arabian that they do to Walkers - there would be some dead trainers out there (wishful thinking).

MY STORY

I came to Tennessee from Texas.  I had never been around TWH and had hardly ever heard of them except in the Horse Encyclopedia.  I went to school at MTSU which is in Murfreesboro (near Shelbyville), TN and needed a job and a place to board my horse.  So, I reluctantly agreed to exchange showing some of these TWH for the owners in turn for my board bill.

After a couple of shows and learning more about the industry - I started to question the owners about thier treatment of the horses.  They vehamantly disagreed that there was no abuse at their barn and went on to say that there was no abuse in any of the barns since they began to be regulated.  Then I proceeded to ask then why don't you let me come out to the barn and ride during certain hours?  The reply was that I would disrupt the training.  Then I asked why wouldn't they let me help prepare the horses at the shows and why did I have to meet you far away from the arena to get on the horse and show?  (Mind you, I was extremely gullible and just could not believe there was abuse - I had never seen or been around abuse until now).  Finally, after alot of lame excuses the owner agreed to allow me to come on as an assistant trainer and paid me handsomely.  I worked there and kept my horse there one for one more month after that.

The things I saw made my stomach turn - and I have a tough stomach.  It made me cry every day at the barn and at home - and I am not a crier.  It made me enraged to see the stupidity and the ignorance and the abuse.  I witnessed tails being cut and slung up, I witnessed soring so bad that the horses would try to walk ONLY on their back legs so that the pain in their front legs would lessen.  I saw horses beaten just to make them come out of their stalls where they knew the horror would begin.  I was even asked to get some airplane fuel from my boyfriend because they thought if they mixed that in their solution for soring it would work better (of course you can imagine what I said).  I saw every horse in that barn struck with dull sad eyes.  And this was all within a couple of days.  I WANTED to quit... but I wanted to stay.  I felt that, if anything, I could bring just a little joy or at least caring and compassion into thier lives.  So I stayed and witnessed the horrors.  I took pictures (secretly) and used mini-recorders and set out on my mission - to shut this place down.

Then one day I asked about a horse named Hot Shot (now I am crying).  This big beautiful bay gelding that had not once come out of his stall in the dark corner the whole week I had been there.  The "trainer" said that he never would - he would rot in that stall.  He was a killer.  He had broken more bones on trainers than any other horse they had heard of - he was dangerous and I was not to go in his stall.  Well, this just didn't sit well.  So from that day on instead of leaving as soon as the abuse was done and I had gathered my evidence for the day... I stayed.  I would work on my studies at the barn instead of home.  I went to each horse and tried to relieve pain and tried to love each one... and I fell in love with Hot Shot.  I took him out of his nasty stall, cleaned it, stretched his legs brushed him and loved him.  He loved me too.  When I would leave or walk in the barn - he and a two year old filly I befriended would whinny to me.

I finally got the nerve to ask the owners if I could work with him.  I think they reluctantly agreed just because they knew I was trouble and were tired of my bellyaching.  They told me that if I could train him, I could buy him or could sell him to whoever I wanted - but if he hurt me I would forget about him and he would go back into his stall.   The challenge was on.  I quit working for the barn (mostly) I just worked with Hot Shot and took my pictures here and there (although I had enough evidence at this point) but I had a new mission - save at least one of these fine horses.  He was an angel - I took lots of time just gaining his trust.  We rode trails, we rode in the arena we did it all - he was wonderful.  I showed the owners and they could not believe it.  Even their ten year old son could ride him.  The men could not get near him.  But I could and his son could and that's all that should.  I loved this horse.

Then the day happened - it ended.  I knew it would one day, but I just wasn't ready.  I had to go out of town for a week.  While I was gone, they sold Hot Shot.  They told me he went to a wonderful home.  He went to a twelve year old little girl's home that was going to just trail ride him.  I believed them (so gullible).  They also told me that the filly I had befriended was now old enough to be stepped up to big shoes and she was - while I was gone (this made me sick).  I then told them I would be leaving.

I quit.  I hooked up my trailer, loaded my wonderful Arabian mare who also had witnessed all of this.  and as I was walking into the barn I saw one last scene that still horrifies me.  They took my precious filly who was still wobbly on her big (giant) shoes and hooked her up to a cart for the first time.  All of the equipment scared her... she reared up... then she went down.  Here I am standing there but almost as if I left my body for a moment, I could not move, I could not scream out, I could not help her.   She fell, she got caught up under the bars of the cart and could not get up.  I still could not move or speak or scream... I just stood there in fixated horror helplessly witnessing.  Instead of unhooking the cart and helping her up, both the trainer and the groom began to beat her with buggy whips,  when the sharp stinging end of the whips did not work, they turned the whips around and began to beat her with the handles.  They beat her all over all over her back and even head.  The poor filly could do nothing.  She finally just curled up in almost a fetal position and tried to bury her head.  She just lay there helplessly.

My fear finally broke and anger rushed through me like thunder.  I started to scream.  I ran into the barn and grabbed all of the chains I could carry and began to throw them at both the groom and the trainer.  They stopped and put down their whips and began to come at me.  I don't know where it came from, but I picked up one of the whips they were using and began to hit the trainer.  Then the groom started toward the trailer that held my precious Kaz.  I ran, jumped into the truck and took off, before he could unlatch the door.

I never saw that place and after many letters, help from a lawyer friend of mine and lots of evidence - that barn (only one of many) is gone.  They were shut down and had to sell... the trainer also lost his license to train... and I still have no idea what ever happened to Hot Shot.

So, to make a longs story short.  Sometimes when you see abuse, you have to stick around even though you want to run... you have to get evidence, even when you want to erase the memory from your mind... and you have to stick to your plan and follow through, even when it hurts just to remember what you saw.

Your horse and many other ex-show TWH have reason to fear whips and chains and even hoof oil.  Your horse sees you as an angel.  You are his angel and he will love you forever for saving him.

Christian Love & Althea
Executive Director/LINC, Inc.




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