Alone I stand, in a dark stall inside a dirty barn in a far corner of the rural
community. The flying insects crawl all around me and bite me until I bleed.
I stand, helpless, fending them off the best I can with my swishing tail and
fly-infested head. The manure is ankle-high all around me, and what hay I have
is mixed with my own urine and feces. I look around and see draft horses and
other horses in tie-stalls in the same conditions.

How did it all come to this? How was I brought to this farm, to be used as a
"brood mare"? How did I deserve this after all I have done for others?

Just a few short years ago I was a regal, shiny bay Standardbred mare. My
racing career was in full gear. Standing at almost 16 hands, I was a
powerhouse of muscle - proud and almost arrogant. I had never known anything
other than climate-controlled stalls, astro-turf in the barn hallways, and at
least two people working with me at any given time. I had the prime cut of
hay, the richest feed, and shower stalls that sprayed out clean, temperate
water. My shoes were changed regularly - my feet never knew a crack.

I made my owners and trainers proud- and was told I was fast enough at the pace
to earn an opportunity to race in the "big time" - at the Meadowlands in New
Jersey! I had "arrived" as a Standardbred - at the top. I raced well, and
earned much money. After a time, however, I felt sore. The toll of racing
produced stiff legs, and little aches and pains that affected my value as a
race horse. After numerous pin-firings and treatments, it was determined that
I would no longer race. I was shipped back to the Midwest, where I once again
received the best of care by my owner, who decided to breed me and produce
potentially-winning foals. My days were long and easy, and my babies were
stunning. They were born, nursed, weaned, and then left me. I knew that soon
there would be another to take that baby's place.

One year there was no baby. The veterinarians came and did tests, and
determined that being a brood mare was no longer possible without endangering
me. To make matters worse, the years of racing had created a problem with
arthritis and I was very sore on my front legs on most days. I could not turn
corners quickly, and walked in a lumbering, careful manner.

No one wanted me any more. My owner, thankfully, did not want to send me to
the meat buyers..............but to make a very long story short I ended up on
an Amish farm with a man who hoped upon hope that I would be able to produce a
foal for him....................so for $200 I became a horse under his care. I
had opportunities to become anyone's horse - anyone who wanted a large horse
with a larger heart......a gentle disposition. I had advocates who rallied for
me and tried to find me a home as a companion horse or pasture horse - yet no
one cared..............

So here I am, in this dark stall in a barn so filled with stench that I cannot
comprehend how I arrived here, or deserved this. Will anyone care? Will
anyone take a chance with me? I am now bred to a large Standardbred stallion,
but the Amish man who has me does not want me because I am depressed and stand
in my stall without eating or drinking. I want to die - it would be easier
than being attacked by bugs and flies to the point of my skin swelling under my
belly. I feel sick, and the Amish man wants to destroy me, thinking I must
have cancer. I am only sick from my conditions, and from the fact that I long
for the days that were, and where are the people that are supposed to care for
me as they did in the days when I was "worth something"? Does anyone care?

If you think you can save me, and would like to welcome me and my unborn baby
into your pasture to love, please call Susan at ASAP. She can help, but only
if you care enough to save me!!!

FROM A FORMER RACING CHAMPION