ONE HORSE'S LIFE.
Created | Updated Jul 1, 2010
Gently he swayed in his slumber, head down, and dreaming of a time long past. Of a time some five years ago, when as a youngster, he frolicked in the sun, relishing the warmth on his handsome back. He remembered those oh so green pastures he shared with his peers, the competition among them, bolting about all over the place, testing one another's mettle. Oh the exhilaration of bursting out of the pack and putting the sword to those who would dare to test his strength. They were the golden days, he stood alone among his kind, he was the bench mark by which the rest were measured.
But the dreams soon began to pass. His body clock had been conditioned by circumstances beyond his control, and he soon found himself in the world of the here and now, and it left him feeling cold. He could hear the movement and voices, the car doors, and the jingling of the gear with which they would control him...it sent a shudder racing down his spine.
Soon the place was abuzz with all manner of activity. The creatures were going about their business in their usual efficient way, voices often of a pitch raised in anger. He knew that he had it a little better than most, his gaoler was a female who's tone of voice was always soft and warm. Others though were proper hard heads who brooked no dissent. They thought nothing of inflicting abominations upon those in their care. Hoses down the throat, metal being nailed to feet and the occasional tube inserted up the rear end. They even took to those in their care with a rasp, grinding down teeth. And then there were the memories of the brave among the nobles, who took it upon themselves to make a stand in protest. Some were braver than others in the rebellions, but all paid a price. Some were taken away, only to return with the light gone from their eyes. They'd had their nether regions mutilated. “Bastards.”
He felt himself begin to sink into a blue mood, it was something he'd fought against with great resolve. Of late, the moods had begun to cause a throbbing deep in his chest, and it made him feel a little afraid. “No no no, can't do this. Gotta stay calm. Damn the creatures, despicable little beasts”
After work, he was soon back at the sheds where before him stood the water torture. “ For crying out loud, if it's not one thing, it's another. First they flog us up hill and down dale, then not content with that, they turn the bloody hose on us afterwards.” he grumbled. “Jesus H. Christ that's cold. I'll bet they heat their own bloody water...typical.”
Back in his stall, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he didn't want to start the pounding in his ears again. He cast his eye about his prison...wall, wall, wall, ceiling, floor and a half open door. Sadly he wandered over and stuck out his head. He could see the trees above the roof across the court, he could hear the birds rejoicing in their freedom, he hung his head and thought of yesteryear. The day led to another, which was followed by others and soon it became weeks.
Then came the day. He didn't know whether to shudder or to shine. The day at the track, if it was like all those he'd experienced in the past, would be sweet and sour. He was off to the place where huge numbers of the creatures would gather and scream all manner of things at him and his kind. “What was it with the beings?” he wondered. “Why do they invest time, energy and money in their selection, then rail against us for not living up to the often unfair expectations?” After the arrival the she creature led him down a path to an enclosure where he was made to circle in front of the creature holding, edifice of many levels. Several minutes later, he eyed them for the first time that day. The vicious little creatures with the appalling dress sense. Each and every one of them armed with a whip. He was mounted and led to a gate where he was then hacked to the steel monster. Along the way, he felt the thumping deep down in his chest begin to take hold.
Once underway, he felt that something was amiss. He'd gone no more than a couple of furlongs, yet he struggled for air. The tightness in his chest grew in intensity as though a steel belt was being slowly tightened around his girth, a notch at a time. He quickly grew light headed and as he did, there appeared a pain inside him, the likes of which he could never have imagined. He felt himself begin to fall. There was nothing he could do, he felt his front legs fold beneath him. He crashed face first into the damp turf. And there he lay, the fallen warrior, a gentle trickle of fluid issuing from his mouth and nostrils. He detested the taste of blood. For several minutes he lay spread eagled, thinking of his youth, until at last he heard her, the female. Within seconds she'd raised his head and gently placed it in her lap. He felt her warm tears stain his cheek as she consoled him with sobbing sounds. He also felt the explosion from deep within him. Then in the arms of love, he felt no more.
But the dreams soon began to pass. His body clock had been conditioned by circumstances beyond his control, and he soon found himself in the world of the here and now, and it left him feeling cold. He could hear the movement and voices, the car doors, and the jingling of the gear with which they would control him...it sent a shudder racing down his spine.
Soon the place was abuzz with all manner of activity. The creatures were going about their business in their usual efficient way, voices often of a pitch raised in anger. He knew that he had it a little better than most, his gaoler was a female who's tone of voice was always soft and warm. Others though were proper hard heads who brooked no dissent. They thought nothing of inflicting abominations upon those in their care. Hoses down the throat, metal being nailed to feet and the occasional tube inserted up the rear end. They even took to those in their care with a rasp, grinding down teeth. And then there were the memories of the brave among the nobles, who took it upon themselves to make a stand in protest. Some were braver than others in the rebellions, but all paid a price. Some were taken away, only to return with the light gone from their eyes. They'd had their nether regions mutilated. “Bastards.”
He felt himself begin to sink into a blue mood, it was something he'd fought against with great resolve. Of late, the moods had begun to cause a throbbing deep in his chest, and it made him feel a little afraid. “No no no, can't do this. Gotta stay calm. Damn the creatures, despicable little beasts”
After work, he was soon back at the sheds where before him stood the water torture. “ For crying out loud, if it's not one thing, it's another. First they flog us up hill and down dale, then not content with that, they turn the bloody hose on us afterwards.” he grumbled. “Jesus H. Christ that's cold. I'll bet they heat their own bloody water...typical.”
Back in his stall, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he didn't want to start the pounding in his ears again. He cast his eye about his prison...wall, wall, wall, ceiling, floor and a half open door. Sadly he wandered over and stuck out his head. He could see the trees above the roof across the court, he could hear the birds rejoicing in their freedom, he hung his head and thought of yesteryear. The day led to another, which was followed by others and soon it became weeks.
Then came the day. He didn't know whether to shudder or to shine. The day at the track, if it was like all those he'd experienced in the past, would be sweet and sour. He was off to the place where huge numbers of the creatures would gather and scream all manner of things at him and his kind. “What was it with the beings?” he wondered. “Why do they invest time, energy and money in their selection, then rail against us for not living up to the often unfair expectations?” After the arrival the she creature led him down a path to an enclosure where he was made to circle in front of the creature holding, edifice of many levels. Several minutes later, he eyed them for the first time that day. The vicious little creatures with the appalling dress sense. Each and every one of them armed with a whip. He was mounted and led to a gate where he was then hacked to the steel monster. Along the way, he felt the thumping deep down in his chest begin to take hold.
Once underway, he felt that something was amiss. He'd gone no more than a couple of furlongs, yet he struggled for air. The tightness in his chest grew in intensity as though a steel belt was being slowly tightened around his girth, a notch at a time. He quickly grew light headed and as he did, there appeared a pain inside him, the likes of which he could never have imagined. He felt himself begin to fall. There was nothing he could do, he felt his front legs fold beneath him. He crashed face first into the damp turf. And there he lay, the fallen warrior, a gentle trickle of fluid issuing from his mouth and nostrils. He detested the taste of blood. For several minutes he lay spread eagled, thinking of his youth, until at last he heard her, the female. Within seconds she'd raised his head and gently placed it in her lap. He felt her warm tears stain his cheek as she consoled him with sobbing sounds. He also felt the explosion from deep within him. Then in the arms of love, he felt no more.
