Timmy and the Filly-A Timmy Tale

Timmy7.7.19

 

When Renata and her friend, Jalissa, had first spotted the black Arabian stallion, Spirit in his ten-acre paddock, his head was down as he sipped water from the scenic pond near its center.  He was standing beneath a willow tree with his faithful gelding, Ambush, by his side.  It was like a scene from a movie…so beautiful, so serene. Jalissa felt the moisture in her eyes and cleared her throat, just as Renata whistled to the stallion.

Spirit’s head shot up at the sound of Renata’s whistle.  He was every bit as stunning as the black stallion from the movie the young women both loved so much.  Spirit turned on his heel and galloped toward the two women standing at the fence.  Ambush ran behind him.  Spirit slowed to a trot and the bay gelding managed to catch up staying at the gallop, and then he too slowed to a trot.

As they both watched Spirit trot toward them with tail held high, Jalissa cleared her throat again and said, “He’s magnificent, Renata.”

“Thank you, Jalissa,” said Renata.

“I won’t lie, Renata.  I’m a little jealous,” laughed Jalissa.

“Jalissa, I love you and I would never want you to feel jealous.  I want you to share in my joy. I was so happy when my best friend called from New York and told me she was coming to Dallas to start her own law firm,” said Renata.

“Best friend? Oh, you mean me,” laughed Jalissa.

The two women hugged, both laughing.  Spirit snorted, reached over the fence and pressed his lips to Renata’s head and then Jalissa’s.  They broke apart laughing once more and Spirit drew back his head, snorting again.

“See Jalissa, Spirit approves,” said Renata.

Now Ambush wanted to be part of the celebration too, so he softly nickered and shoved his head toward the women.  Spirit stepped aside, ever respectful of the older gelding.  Renata placed both hands on Ambush’s cheeks and kissed him on the nose, “Oh sweet, Ambush, we would never forget you,” she said.

“C’mon Jalissa, let’s go to the house, I want you to meet my protégé, Gina Targoff. And then I have a surprise for you,” said Renata.   She then whistled three short bursts in the direction of the stallion barn and two Anatolian Shepherds appeared from deep inside it.  They must have been napping because they stretched their legs for a couple of steps and then came running with tails wagging.

“Meet Ralph and Lauren,” said Renata.

“Jalissa laughed, “Of course that’s what you named them.  Still missing your days in Paris, at Louis Vuitton?” asked Jalissa.

“Those were good days, Jalissa, but this place is my destiny,” answered Jalissa in a serious tone, but still smiling.

The two women looked at each other for a moment and then Renata, turned and headed toward the house with Ralph, Lauren and Jalissa falling into step beside her.

 

“Gina,” Renata called out as she opened the back door leading to the kitchen and she with her entourage in tow stepped in.

“I’m here,” said Gina, stepping around the corner hopping as she pulled on her other boot.

Gina stopped in mid boot pull when Jalissa stepped from behind Renata.  Gina had always thought Renata was beautiful, but Jalissa was breathtaking and at least ten years younger than Renata.  Her black hair tumbled down past her shoulders in loose waves.  Her skin was the color of mahogany and her eyes were emeralds. Her tiny t-shirt which bore the name of Renata’s fashion label, bigshotcowgirl, exposed the slightest midriff. She wore jeans that accented her hips and a very fit, gluteus maximus.  A pair of red leather boots engulfed the lower part of her jeans to finish out the ensemble.

“Hello, Gina.  I’m Jalissa Green,” said Jalissa.

Gina managed to regain control of her jaw and said, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

Suddenly, they heard a shrill whinny.  Ralph and Lauren ran to the back door, whining and scratching at it.  Renata opened it and the dogs blasted out the door toward the sound.  The whinnying continued…more frantic.  It was coming from the paddock nearest the front pasture, northwest of the house.

“That’s one of the broodmares!” said Renata as she bolted toward the gunrack in the hall and grabbed her shotgun.  “Let’s go Gina!” she said as she headed out the side door to the garage.

“I’m coming too!” said Jalissa, running out the door behind them and jumping into the back of Renata’s jeep.

“Gina, you drive!” commanded Renata as she jumped into the passenger side, shotgun in hand.

The key was already in the ignition, so Gina started the jeep and shot out the back of the open garage.

The tires squealed a little as she put the jeep in drive and peeled out of the driveway.  They sped over the cattle guard and then Gina wheeled the jeep a sharp right toward the commotion in the front pasture.

They all gasped.  “My god!” said Jalissa.

At the top of the hill, they saw a baby black horse surrounded by three coyotes and her frantic mother, a chestnut, Arabian mare, running along the other side of the paddock fence, screaming. The baby was crying too, but could barely be heard over the mother’s frantic cries.  As they sped toward the calamity, they saw Timmy, the golden pony, gallop up and start kicking one of the coyotes and then as if on cue, Ralph and Lauren burst onto the scene.  Those coyotes didn’t have a chance.  They were outgunned and they knew it.  So as if they were connected telepathically, all three of them sped off at once.  Ralph and Lauren took off after them, but Timmy was standing with the baby as they arrived at the scene.  Renata jumped from the jeep, shotgun at the ready before Gina brought it to a complete stop.  She strode toward Timmy who stood protecting the trembling filly.  Mom was still running the fence line whinnying frantically.

Gina and Jalissa were now by Renata’s side. Gina put her arms around Timmy’s neck, and he nuzzled her while Renata ran her fingers over the baby, checking for injuries.  Finding no injuries, Renata stroked the baby’s neck and said, “You’re okay, little Sapphire.  That was a close call.” Then Renata called out to the mare, “Rose, your little girl is okay.”

The chestnut mare, continued to trot along the fence, upset that her filly was not by her side.

Gina and Jalissa were now consoling the filly too, as Timmy sauntered off into the pasture, grazing again as if this had all been a normal day in the life of a plucky, little pony.

Renata stood up and said, “Okay guys, help me herd this little girl back into the paddock and reunite her with mom. There’s a small gate just a little down the fence row, we’ll get her back in through there.  Renata began to coax the filly toward the gate, while Gina and Jalissa brought up the rear, tapping the filly’s rump from time to time.  The process wasn’t too difficult because the filly was drawn to her mother’s cries.

As they watched the filly trot toward her mother’s side after encouraging her through the gate, Jalissa said, “She’s beautiful, Renata.”

“I’m happy you think so, Jalissa. She’s yours.  She’s the surprise I was talking about,” said Renata.

The filly trotted back toward the fence as if to thank them. Jalissa bent down to touch her face and as she was tracing the star on Sapphire’s forehead with her finger she said, “Renata, this is too much.  I can’t accept this gift.”

“She’s not a gift,” laughed Renata.  “You have to work for her.   You have to help Gina and me at the ranch, when you’re not too busy with your law firm, of course,” Renata winked as she said it.

Jalissa stood up, tears in her eyes, and faced Renata.  The two women embraced as Gina looked on. “I love you, Renata,” said Jalissa.

“I know,” said Renata.

“Gina, come join this love fest,” said Jalissa, reaching out to her with one arm.

Gina joined their embrace.  She shed tears too because she had never felt such love before in her life.

“We three are a team,” said Renata.  “Team Olympic Spirit, in honor of the legacy of our beloved black stallion!”

AV Olympic Spirit
AV Olympic Spirit-The Black Stallion
Ambush
Ambush
Rose
Rose
Ralph and Lauren
Ralph and Lauren

The Premarin Mare

EndPMU

PMU is used to produce estrogen and hormone-replacement drugs such as Premarin, PremPro and PremPhase and DUAVEE, a “PremPro-Lite” which contains Premarin. PMU drugs are made by keeping mares constantly pregnant and collecting their estrogen-rich urine.“-equineadvocates.org

Several years ago when I volunteered at Hope for Horses, a horse rescue which was formerly located in Blue Ridge, Texas, I learned about the details of the PMU industry.  As a pharmacist, I already knew that the Premarin stood for “Pregnant mares’ urine”, but I had no idea as to the extent of the cruelty in the industry.  I was inspired by what I learned to write the following short story from a Premarin mare’s point of view.  The story is sad, but there is hope for the mare, because Hope for Horses and many other rescues throughout the U.S. and Canada have saved thousands of these mares and their foals and continue to do so.  Please consider the multitude of alternatives for hormone replacement therapy. Estrace, for example, is one of the many alternatives available and is plant based and it has a very inexpensive generic, estradiol.

Author note: I took some poetic license with this story because I have never actually visited a PMU farm.

The Premarin Mare

            The man was leading me through the large, cold building.  I could see the heads of the other mares above their stalls.  But worst of all I could hear their mournful cries.  I had lived among other horses before, but I had never encountered such an intense smell of manure and urine before in my life.  There were too many horses in this building.

I nickered softly to the man who led me through this hellish nightmare.  I hoped that he would have sympathy for me and take me away from this place.  He refused to turn and look at me.  I stretched out my head and nuzzled his neck.  He turned and struck me so viciously with his fist that I was stunned.  I had never been treated roughly by a human before.

​            It seemed ages ago that two other men had come to my home and had taken me away.  I can still remember the sound of my little girl sobbing and calling my name after I was loaded into the trailer.  Up until that moment I hadn’t been worried because I thought I might just be going to see the man who would look in my mouth.  I could see my little girl through the panels on the side of the trailer.  She was running toward me, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her.  She was screaming my name between her wrenching sobs.  I answered her screams.  I whinnied frantically.

​           The last thing I saw as the trailer began to drive away was the big man who lived in the house running toward my girl.  He swept up my sweet little girl into his arms and held her tight.  She was struggling.  She had pounded her fists into his chest as she screamed my name.

​            Now, the man was leading me into one of the tiny stalls.  I stopped and refused to move forward.  He reached out and pinched my nostrils together with his huge hand.  The pain was excruciating, especially since he had just punched me there, but I still stood my ground.  He called to someone else.  Another man walked up behind me and pressed something against my flanks.  Incredible pain surged through my body and I bolted forward.

​            I was immediately chained to the stall.  I tried to rear and buck, but the chains were too strong.  Once my energy was exhausted the men hooked tubes to my lower body.  The tubes were uncomfortable and rubbed between my inner rear legs, but there was nothing I could do.

​I awoke to the sound of the other mares whining horribly and struggling against their chains.  It may have been morning, but I couldn’t tell.  My stall was too far into the depths of this large dismal building for me to see outdoors.  My legs ached from standing all night on the concrete.

​            Then I realized why the other mares were struggling so hard.  Men were bringing around buckets of water.  I had never been so thirsty in all my life and so I began to struggle too.  The mares on either side of me tried to bite me as the man came closer.  I snapped back at them.  We had become like vicious animals.  No longer did there exist a herd mentality among these mares.  We were struggling violently to take care of our own needs.

​            The man stopped in front of my stall with the water bucket and I quickly sank my muzzle into it.  But before I had taken three gulps, he ripped the bucket away from me and continued to the next mare.  I whined after him pitiably.  I was so thirsty.  Surely more water would come around soon.  As the men with the water buckets passed through the rows and rows of mares, I could hear them whining and struggling to get to the water.

​            Weeks or maybe months went by and nothing improved.  My body ached.  I would often dream of my little girl.  She would be riding me across the pasture on a beautiful sunny day.  She was as light as a feather and I cantered happily about the pasture listening to the sound of her laughter drifting above my head.

​            Maybe someday I will see her again and I will answer her laughter with a carefree whinny.

PMUAlternative