The morning of November 6th, 2006 I volunteered to help with an SPCA matter, & it turned into several days of heart-rending & tear-jerking. There was a "rescue" farm near here that had been condemned & there were over 2 dozen horses to be moved off of the property in a very short time. When I got there I found that I couldn't get my truck & trailer anywhere near the driveway, so volunteers ended up leading the horses out to the road, where I loaded them up.
Sometime late that Monday night, the rains really started to come down, driven by 60-70 km winds. By this time I'd already seen enough sick, injured & neglected horses to last me 10 lifetimes. I had just loaded a sopping wet, emaciated little grey mare, and stepped into the leeward side of the trailer to escape the rain while waiting for the next few horses to be led out. As I stood there I looked into the trailer at the saddest mote of matted hair I'd ever seen. She smelled horrible & looked worse. I opened the head window & reached in to stroke her forelock. She showed no response whatsoever; it was as if I weren't even there. I stood there talking to her & trying to get some sort of response, when she slowly lifted her stare in my direction. The look I got chilled me more than the rain & wind already had. The mind that controlled those hollow eyes had long ago given up hoping for anything better & resigned to just wait quietly for a forgiving death to ease her suffering. I tried to say something, anything, to her but no words made it past the knot in my throat.
I managed to make that little grey mare a promise that night. I had no idea how it would happen, but that somehow her life would get better. Every night thereafter, whenever I closed my eyes, I saw hers. That lifeless stare would invade even conscious moments, leaving me little else to think about but what would become of her.
I told my wife, Sherri about what I had seen during those days; the mare who was so weak we had to lift her one leg at a time onto the back of the trailer; the pony mired in a festering pit of his own feces & urine. There was a brief celebration when I loaded a wild mustang onto the trailer without so much as laying a hand on her; & a few moments of hilarity as we all engaged in a crash course in halter-breaking a thoroughly distraught llama. With each horse I met, I thought I had run out of tears, but more kept coming. All through this, that little grey mare's gaze remained stark & vivid.
Sherri & I spoke often & long about that little grey mare. We rationalised that we had no way to look after such a needy animal, no stall nor time or extra care. None of those excuses worked on either of us; nor did we get much sleep. Finally we agreed that if anyone was going to take this little gal in, it would have to be us. So we worked on an idea; the idea grew into a plan; & on November 12th I went & brought her home.
Within the first few days, her blank stare had softened into that of cautious acceptance. With almost constant company, lots of petting, scratching, love & attention she has regained an expectant look in her eyes. In fact, I would almost hazard to call it a tiny gleam.
That week during the rescue was one of the most painful & emotional in my life. I laughed out loud at little more than having my hand licked by a horse, because I didn't think he had the spirit to trust anyone enough to do that. I had also completely broken down from just looking a little mare in the eye, when I saw nothing but a hollow, lifeless stare; devoid of any interest in living anymore. Those few days have proven to me that at times a "rescue" can be little more than an inexorable journey from misery to hopelessness.
So meet "Falon; The Little Grey Mare". We have no idea where she will take us, but we're sure looking forward to the trip!
"Hi Everyone; my name is Falon"
"This is me in the summer of 2003."
"This is what I looked like on November 12th, 2006."
There are still some very big holes in Falon's story, but here's what we have been told:
She is a POA/Appy cross, and stands 12.2 hands. She is somewhere between 17 & 20 years old, but we have some hints & tips from people who have known her that indicate she's at least 20, if not a bit beyond that.
She's missing all of her upper incisors, and several molar teeth as well. I was told they had to be removed, but looking at her gums it looks as though she may have contracted a severe gum infection at some point.
We've discovered that she's prone to gas colic, but this could be a result of malnutrition & her poor health. We're hoping this may subside as her health improves.
I've also noticed that she has some difficulty navigating doorways on her own. She will follow me through an entrance without hesitation, but going through on her own she will stop, shift slowly to her right, then enter while scraping her side against the doorjamb. She's gotten better at going into her stall, but still resorts to her "scraping" through gateways & such.
Someone mentioned her eyesight may have been compromised due to malnutrition, and that with proper feeding her eyesight may improve.
Her two favourites pastimes are being scratched, pretty much anywhere, but she has a few "choice" spots; and grooming. If I start to groom her, she will reciprocate by nuzzling & "grooming" me in return.
We'd like to thank everyone who has written to us about Falon, and added to her background & history. If anyone knows her, and particulary those who have worked with her in the past, we'd sure appreciate a call or e-mail!
Special thanks to Val at Horse On Course Transport & Roddick's Supply for the lovely winter blanket for Falon! It's certainly come in very handy during the -19 tempuratures we're getting in late November!
Falon will enjoy a home here with us for rest of her natural life. This page will eventually become a sort of diary of our progress with her, so I invite you to pop back from time to time to see how she's doing.
