Username: Isabella45
Show Name: Irresistibly Drawn
Barn Name: Apollo
Short Story:
Apollo came to my stables on autumn morning. I had gone out to check a mustang round up out of state, fully intending to look and scout, not buy! But then there was this boy . . .
He was so handsome, my favorite paint pattern, gorgeous eyes. I couldn't resist.
But I wasn't the only one to have an interest in this boy.
Bids were coming in fast and I didn't have a lot of spending money since it was getting toward winter and the end of the month.
I tried, but in the end I didn't win this lovely boy.
I went home, disappointed but determined that I would wait until next time and hope for better luck. But I couldn't' forget him.
When the end of fall came I had attended several more auctions, but I was still hung up on that lovely red dun tovero and I compared every horse to him it seemed.
Winter came and money was tight to I stopped attending the auctions and took care of the horses over the cold months.
When spring came again my friends urged me to go again and hope for good luck.
I finally gave in.
I went to the first auction of spring.
At first there was nothing.
I saw many lovely horses, but man, that tovero stallion was stuck in my mind.
As I wandered the pens I eventually got past the area where the 'good' horses were and found the 'bad' ones.
These horses were broken down, bad tempered, abused.
Most would probably sell for meat, or be bought cheap and worked for all they had left.
Normally I avoided this area, not wanting to be tempted because I knew I would feel bad for every horse and want to take each one home. But this time something drew me deeper and deeper into the maze of pens.
I saw so many broken horses.
Horses that had once been bright eyes and beautiful, now listless, having given up on life.
I couldn't' believe, I didn't want to believe, that anyone could do such hurtful things to these majestic creatures.
But here were horses that were living proof of the pain humans could inflict on a good horse for no reason. Breaking the spirits of the wild, beautiful animals.
I was about to leave, not sure I could stand it anymore, when I heard a soft nicker.
I turned around, and there, in the pen two feet away, was a shaggy stallion who looked hauntingly familiar.
His ribs showed and his tail and mane were thin. He was clearly injured and malnourished.
Then I saw his eyes. Those bright, irresistible green eyes that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
I waned to cry.
Someone, maybe the person who had outbid me last autumn, had bought this beautiful, high spirited boy, and broken him without a single care.
I placed my hand against his dirty forehead and he pressed his head into my palm.
I knew I couldn't walk away without him. Not this time.
I went to my seat to await the bidding.
I waited for hours.
First came the flashy horses that sold for ten times the amount I had.
Then the ponies and foals who sold for high prices on the 'cuteness factor'.
Then came the run down old horses and the broken ones.
By now most people had left, already having seen the cream of the crop. But I waited at the edge of my seat for my boy to be brought out.
I wanted to cry each time I saw a sad looking horse sold to someone who intended to use them for meat or hides. I wanted so badly to save them, but I couldn't' do it. Not with my finances.
But at least I could try to save my boy.
Finally he came out.
It was nothing like the first time I had seen him, coat shiny, eyes glossy, mane and tail flowing out behind him like flags.
Now he walked with his head down, his hooves barely leaving the ground.
There was no sign of the elegance and pride I had seen in him just months earlier.
The bidding started.
I had to outbid a few people, mostly meat sellers and tanners.
But in the end no one wanted to pay an even half decent price for the meat or hide of one broken down horse.
I loaded him into my trailer with care and took him home.
For months he was in 'rehab'.
My vet came and took care of him and I got him on a proper diet.
His trust in humans didn't seem to have been swayed terribly by his experiences, proving his sweet disposition.
It took some time. A long, long time.
But eventually he was healthy once more, and just as lovely as the day I had first seen him.
True, he was no longer unspoiled by the selfishness or pain caused by men, but I think his scars, outward and inward, helped his character.
He is now a settled member of my stable, and I love him just as much now as I did the day I first saw him.
I tried so hard to resist . . .