Other Resources HorseHobbyist.com Horse Forums Appaloosa Forum Horse Photo Gallery The Rescue Network Subscribe to Hoofbeats, the free email newsletter about equines & farm animals from horsehobbyist.com! Email Address:

Red stood in the stall quietly munching her hay, but it was obvious that hay was a recent addition to her daily life. Red's coat was dull and rough, and though long, had lost its ability to insulate her body against the cold December day. Her ribs were prominent, even with the winter coat, and her hips' dramatic prominence gave her the appearance of being much older than her 7 years. In the stall next to her, a dark mare who with health would have been a striking black but was instead a dull, damaged brown, sighed as she chewed her hay.

Red and the little black mare had not started out with such a poor outlook in life. Nor were these two mares the products of so called "back yard" breeding. Red was the daughter of a World Champion appaloosa stallion; she had been bred, raised and shown successfully as a halter mare. Upon being retired to the breeding shed, she had produced a National champion appaloosa colt and had the makings of a world class broodmare. The little black mare had been born and raised at the famous Crown Center Ranch, her sire being the legendary Impressive Andrew. Both had been considered prime broodmare material, and with the breeding and desired conformation, they were indeed the up and up of the appaloosa world.

Life changed for them one fateful year. It happened when a man we'll call Roger* felt it was time to change his small breeding farm and go for the "big money." With the help of a silent partner, he bought up several well-bred mares and another stallion and started down a road that had a lot of bumps and gulleys. Now, some people can take that road and come out the better for it, but some people go about navigating those gulleys in all the wrong ways. Things began to fall apart when Roger lost his job. Too proud to admit he needed help, he struggled on, ignoring the ribs and hungry faces of the ones who could do no more than survive on what they could find in their small pasture. Horses that are starving will eat things they would otherwise never touch, so when Roger tried to make do with old, rotten hay the mares ate - and many died. Those that did not die became deathly ill, and lost the foals they carried. It was at this point that the silent partner, who was not a horse person in the least but knew something was wrong, turned to someone he knew for help.

That's when the phone call was made to our farm. Red had returned to the farm that bred her, where the people who raised her now feared she would not make the night. She had nearly collapsed coming off the trailer and was the weakest of the six mares that had been taken away from their death beds. Her rescuers feared the worst, and could not get through to their vet so they called us for advice. My husband, who is a veterinarian, and I did what we could over the phone, and gave encouragement and all the educated advice we could muster.

Red was stronger than she had looked, and it amazed me as I stood there outside her stall a month later. A month of good food, vet care and love and she still looked like a warmed over skeleton. She wasn't the worst, though, despite being the weakest when they had all arrived. A couple of the other mares had not bounced back as quickly as Red did. They would all survive, but it would be a long time before any looked like the horses they were bred to be.

Red and the little black mare, who we dubbed Misfit because she had no white on her to speak of and stood out in our field of colored appaloosas, came home with us. With a continuous supply of hay and feed, they began to put weight on. At first, it seemed we'd never get their ribs back under flesh, and their coats were so rough they felt like burlap. But with spring came summer coats, which took on a shine and gloss that matched their sparkling eyes. Red had put on enough weight by late spring that the vet deemed it safe to go ahead and try to breed her. It was amazing to see that little life in the ultrasound screen when it seemed so short a time ago Red had been so close to death.

Summer came and we moved to a larger farm, with more grass than one could shake a stick at. Red and Misfit, along with the other mares, grew fat and slick. Winter hit and despite the snow that stayed on the ground, the hay that was always there for them kept them warm and well-fed. Their winter coats had come in long, thick, and glossy. Such a world of difference between the ones they wore when we picked them up less than a year before!

Spring returned, a bit late but here all the same. The grass showed back up, winter coats began coming off in large, billowy clumps and a beautiful chestnut colt arrived just shy of his due date. He doesn't know how close his mom came to never having him.

Red and Misfit both had shiney coats this summer that did not lose their sheen when their winter coats grew in. Misfit is a glossy black, healthy, content and carrying her first foal. Red's coat is burnished copper, sleek over the belly where her next foal is growing. It's scary to think how close these two mares came to not being here, especially now that I can't imagine them not being out there with my other mares, contently munching. I have to wonder sometimes if they remember. I think they do. Perhaps its only my imagination but sometimes I think their soft nickers at feed time are more of a "thank you" and less of the demanding "feed me" that the mares I've had since babies and have never known hunger give me. Only they know for sure. All I know is that its a mighty warm feeling to go to bed at night knowing they are content and happy.

*Some names and other identifying information have been changed.