Ohana Carrie Young
My name was idiot. I dont like that name, but that is what I was called all the time. I was born to my mommy, but didnt get to spend much time with her. She was always so tired when she came home from riding the man that called me idiot. One time this man was out in the small yard and he was swinging a whip and hitting us, I was running away, and ran right into something sharp. Ripped my nose almost off my face. I dont like the taste of the red stuff that kept running into my mouth. I got cuts all over my chest. The man grabbed the halter that was way to small on my face and was shaking my head around, yelling IDIOT, LOOK WHAT YOU DID NOW, WELL THAT WILL SHOW YOU…..LISTEN TO ME WHEN I CALL YOU…IDIOT.. Slowly my cuts on my chest started to go away, the flies stopped hanging in the cuts. That was good, because they bothered me so much, now if they would stop chewing on the part of my nose that is hanging there. After some time, the skin hanging there started to heal, but when I look down my nose when I go to eat, I can see that it doesnt look like my moms nose, or the other noses of all the others here in the yard. And when I breathe seems there is air going out the hole….BUT the flies are not as many.
Oh great…IDIOT…I hear, I look up. I know better now NOT to come to the man when he calls my name. I am still suffering for running into that sharp wire that cut me up. I go over to him, and he puts the saddle on my back. Wait, I am hungry and tired. I want to stay with the others so I can eat. I am having trouble understanding what the man wants me to do, he is yelling, but the words are all slurred, there is stuff coming out of the mans mouth while he is yelling. I am afraid. I AM SCARED. I stand there and do JUST what he said. I AM BROKE, not just for saddle but in spirit. I am so tired of flies, hunger and being hit by this man.
We ride once again down the road..watch out there are metal things with wheels coming so close. Let me walk in the grass, I am begging. He doesnt listen. The hardness is hurting my feet, the metal boxes are coming so close. The man keeps yelling…I am trying to tell him, my feet hurt, I am hungry, my nose has flies in it, and I am scared. Why doesnt he listen? We get to the little house where the man goes in and ALWAYS gets pretty metal cans that are connected together with something white. He puts them to his mouth before he even gets on my back. This time the man is talking to a little lady, a very small lady. He gives her the lines that are connected to my face, and around my nose with the flies. She pulls on them, OUCH that hurts. The lady gets on my back, and off we go. AHHHH, she lets me walk in the grass, and she isnt yelling and pulling on my sore nose. She has me walk into a yard with grass, and no other horses. I try and ask her, where is my mom and the others?? She doesnt listen, why cant anyone listen to me? I know I am telling them.
This isnt too bad, I just am alone, BUT there is grass and water. Hey look a little tiny person. Wait I hear yelling..what is going on. Why do humans always have to yell. I dont understand. I see a woman over by the fence, she is talking to the little lady that was on my back and brought me here. She comes over and rubs my face, and brushes the flies away from my bloody nose. Ahhh this is nice.
It is getting dark, a metal box with another metal box pulls up. The little lady is pulling on my nose again with my halter…STOP STOP it hurts..There is another short lady that is talking to the little lady, Oh no, seems voices are getting loud again. Why do humans always yell?
This short lady and a very tall man take me and put me into the back metal box. I get right in. I KNOW THAT I SHOULD DO AS I AM TOLD..my nose with the flies is a reminder. I AM BROKE, HAVE NO REASON TO SMILE ANYMORE, I AM UGLY, AND ALWAYS GO HUNGRY. GUESS THIS IS THE WAY IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE.
Here at Ohana we listen, this little guy will be getting his bloody nose fixed, he will no longer hear yelling, he will no longer be hungry. He is in a paddock with grass, fresh water, and is now on his feeding regiment. We have put medicine in his bloody hole that is the last part of the healing where his nose was ripped half off his face, the flies have stopped feeding on the bloody hole…We will have the surgeon reconstruct his nose, and have him gelded but we cannot do it without your help. Please help us help him become a horse that knows love, compassion, and trust. PLEASE OHANA ANGELS, LISTEN WITH US, lets show him, that not all humans are cruel?
Will you join us in this battle? Please with each donation, give us a name suggestion.
If anything is left, we will use this towards the other horse that we brought in last night. Both horses need vetted, farrier, groceries. Bless you.
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Morgan Hawkins Shiloh – In Hebrew Shiloh means “His gift.” Other translations for the word include “he who is to be sent,” and “the peaceful one.”
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Mary Grettenberger Phoenix
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Patti Wade Shiloh “the peaceful one.”
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