January 2009 ~ My name is Mischief (formally known as Little Chief in my younger days) and I was born like Angel in the month of June, only one year later so this makes me nine months old at the time of this writing. I am in no way showing up as competition to Angel because this girl would win hands down and I wouldn’t have a chance but I do have some things to tell you, if you would like to listen to what I have to say. Like Angel, I am a pmu foal and was bred only as a by-product of the pharmaceutical industry to produce a drug called Premarin estrogen derived from my pregnant Mom’s urine for HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy for women). When I was separated from my Mom I was taken to an auction, just like Angel went to but what I found quite sad about this particular place was that many of my friends and playmates were not chosen like myself to be taken to a new home. They were left there for reasons that I don’t quite comprehend so well but it seems that people are having troubles caring for some of their horses and there was no longer a demand for yearlings like the bunch I came in with. So, I suppose I consider myself lucky here but saddened that the others were probably auctioned off and will never know the kind of life they could have had, serving and perhaps even bonding with a particular person for many years to come.
I also am knowing that there is much debate with what to do with so many of my kind that can not be sustained. This is a difficult one but really for me I can only be in the moment and hope one day that this situation of unwanted horses being at risk will be gone and that those of my kind will live dignified lives from the beginning to the end. I would ask of those that wish to save all of us from the grisly road to slaughter to “please come and rescue us, and as soon as possible!” Time waits for no one here and I also see the reality that to save us all comes down to what you people call money, which these days does not seem to be too plentiful. We want to go with you but only if we are not causing you hardships because we are not meant to be in your lives this way.
Do not let me burden you because without you I am not whole as a domesticated horse – I need you. What saddens me greatly is that more and more horses, those of my kind, are being shipped to feedlots via the auctions where we are placed in the hands of strangers that will attempt to quickly end our lives and will not even know or be able to acknowledge the service I provided some of you, during our time together. I may have been the one that took your child on her first pony ride or won you hundreds of thousands of dollars in a sport you trained me for. Or I could have been a dear and wonderful friend of many years no longer able to carry on. I only ask here that you people become very clear on how you decide to take care of our last moments here with you on earth; please let me go with dignity and make it as humane as possible. Please remember that your blessings helps bring our passing more easily.
So far I have come to really quite enjoy the affection given to me from people that seemingly dote on me. I feel like I belong and if anything, this is where I want to be. I want to enhance the lives around me by bringing them lots of joy and laughter as they witness my child like antics from time to time and also to benefit from the gentle moments, when our energies become one. I know if I have the opportunity to eventually shack up with Angel in the future that she will take great pleasure in showing me the ropes but I already know that horses like her, especially with her very alpha like mannerisms, makes her one pretty tough cookie and if it doesn’t go her way, well, it won’t go any other in a pretty way, this is for sure! So, I will be as respectful as possible but I have to tell you I think you people really got our names confused here. I am actually the Angel here really, you got to believe me!! We all know who Angel has proven herself to be up to this point in time: Sassy and completely Mischievious all the way through or at least until the cows come home!
Your Friend,
Mischief
