There’s rescue, “rescue” and personal responsibility: What would you do?
As you can imagine, we receive emails every day asking us to take a horse that someone doesn't want, can't care for, or is otherwise in danger of falling through the cracks.
We always try to assist in whatever practical way we can. We don't like to say "no" outright. So, we work to find solutions based on the situation at hand.
Our “no” in some cases has turned into the offer of humane euthanasia, by the owner's vet (or arranged by us), at their home, expense covered. And more often than not, that offer is refused or taken with offense, because we are “supposed to be a rescue.”
Some examples include -
The horse that’s been in the same field, untouched for 20 years, that’s stopped coming up to the back fence and "doesn't move much anymore."
The horse with untreated EPM that’s now falling down when ridden and tottering about when led.
The horse that has started panicking because its vision is gone and it can’t find its bearings in a once-familiar pasture if one thing changes in his routine.
The horse that is chronically lame and requires specialized shoeing and medication to be somewhat comfortable, some of the time.
It’s hard to want to help and realize you can’t. In fact, it's so hard that just saying "no" isn't in our lexicon. It's hard to care but realize that, in many cases, there is absolutely no realistic way a small non-profit that relies on foster homes and private donations can take equally good care of a special-needs animal as the owner who loves them.
In general, fosters are not equipped to handle such horses, our finances cannot handle such horses and take care of what we already have. Sadly, reality may not necessarily dovetail with a flower-and-butterflies animal rescue philosophy of "helping everything" and making decisions for horses that are beyond realistic capacity to keep comfortable.
To say I didn’t ask to play God in these circumstances is an understatement, but when we vote as a board, I personally always, always consider if it was my horse, what would I do.
Sadly, the thought that you can find your special needs 30-year-old horse a “better situation” than staying home with you until he crosses over is simply not based in reality. No one who searches Facebook for a cheap horse and spends a little money to haul him home is going to love him the way that you have, regardless of how ‘careful’ you are with placement; no one else is going to carry those years of memories that you do; no one else will know just by standing with him that special spot he likes to be scratched, or how to recognize those days when he just isn’t feeling quite right. No rescue in existence can make these situations easier on the horse, no rescue can give them the daily one-on-one loving hands-on they know with you, and no mere stranger is going to make their last days better than spending with you, even if that means you take the responsibility to choose their last day and make it safe and comfortable.
Unsound or lame horses that are picked up for free or very little money can be medicated to appear sound (you don’t want to know the magic cocktail), sold as “kid broke” at the local auction for, in some cases, a few thousand dollars, to an unsuspecting buyer, and then what happens when the drugs wear off and these new owners have a crippled horse they can’t ride, that they just purchased? Combine anger with zero emotional attachment directed at the horse you loved. Will they run them back through the sale, will they call the trader to pick him up, or will they just leave him out in the back 40 to fend for himself? Would you want your horse in that situation? If not, then do the right thing by him and choose his last day, to ensure he stays safe and loved until then.
For those who simply have no hope of a better life free of pain and fear, the idea that “maybe a rescue will take him” is simply a feel-good misnomer for finding someone willing to do what the owner will not.
When you have seen what I have seen, you would realize that a calm, quiet, safe end is often the best gift we can offer when our capacity to heal has reached its limits. Horses live in the moment. They don't think about tomorrow. Owners willing to make that choice keep horses from auction, keep horses from suffering at the hands of those who do not care that they are sentient beings, keeps horses from who knows what horrible fate. It doesn't make it easy, but it does make it right.
