We all have a life story, don’t we? And it's not always the same story we tell ourselves.
Take Silver’s story. Bred to race, she entered training at age three and like so many horses she “tied up” on the track, meaning her muscles gave out from overexertion. Her body simply couldn’t handle the heavy demand put on a young horse and she washed out of racing. The next eight years of her life are a mystery, but we know that at age eleven, a dealer found her rotting in a barn in upstate New York when he went to purchase two draft horses from an Amish farmer. The farmer had bought her at a livestock auction in Ohio, known to be one of the worst in the country. He had planned to use her as a driving horse, but when that didn’t work out, he discarded her like an old piece of machinery. The dealer who discovered her saved her and was kind enough to transport her to my quarantine facility in Pennsylvania at no cost.
Race horses are given a lip tattoo, an identification number, and from that scrap of information, I was able to find her Jockey Club name and from that I was then able to track down the name of the farm where she was bred. It was no longer in existence, but I did find the name of a woman who was associated with the breeding farm. A further search led me to her LinkedIn profile. So I sent her a message, but never got a reply.
When Silver arrived at Nalani, her body was clearly not right as she couldn’t walk correctly or roll or lie down, but the most notable thing about her was the deep sadness in her eyes. Over the course of a year, she had assessments by multiple vets, massage and chiropractic appointments, and nutrition consultations. Eventually, she was diagnosed with a neurological disorder caused by a parasite and after months of treatment, she showed improvement, but she still seemed sore and stiff. Overall, she just seemed rigid, holding her body tight, almost constantly holding her breath. She never seemed to exhale.
I spent time sitting with her, grooming her, telling her she was safe and loved, but it made no difference. Her sad eyes and heavy demeanor remained. I have rescued horses who were in horrific physical condition or even frightened and feral, but this was different. I realized that I could throw everything I had at her to repair her physical body, but I didn’t have the power to heal her heart.
And why wouldn’t her heart be broken? This is her side of the story: she was born on a picturesque farm in Virginia where she was well cared for and loved. As a yearling, she enjoyed frolicking with her friends under the protective eye of her mother. Until one day, in the pouring rain, she was ripped away from everything she knew and loaded onto a trailer. She tried to protest, but her humans managed to get her on the trailer and off she went to an unfamiliar place. Once in the new place, she was saddled and asked to run. She tried so very hard to do what was asked of her. But it hurt. It was hard. She was exhausted and her muscles gave out.
After that, she was tossed around. She ended up at a horrible auction. The air hung with worry as she and the other animals awaited their fate. She was sold to the highest bidder and was loaded onto a trailer…again. Once in her new home, her owner asked her to pull a buggy. And she tried, but once again, her body wasn't capable of doing what he asked, so she was tossed aside. This time, left to rot. Forgotten.
But…..there is yet another side to her story. Remember that breeder I reached out to on LinkedIn?
Silverstar Grande aka Silver was born on a peaceful farm in Virginia to a beautiful mare, a strong-willed and protective mother. Her breeders had awaited her birth with anticipation and they watched with delight as she flourished. She was a feisty happy little yearling who was so loved by her mother and the family who bred her. And she had a purpose. She was bred to be a racehorse. With her good lineage, great conformation and those long legs, she had promise. When she turned three, it was time for her to start her race training so she was sold to a woman who would get her started with her racing career.
What an amazing life she would have! Her breeder was so proud of her. The day she was scheduled to leave for her new life, Silver didn’t want to go, so her breeder coaxed her onto the trailer and said goodbye in the pouring rain…with a sick feeling in her gut…all the while telling herself that this is what Silver was bred for. This is what was meant to be.
When Silver tied up on the track, her breeder was told that Silver would become a broodmare, a common outcome for racehorses. And then, without warning, all communication between Silver's new owner and the breeder stopped. Her breeder was beside herself. Her beloved Silver was missing! She searched frantically for eight years and could find no trace of Silver. She would have given anything to have that rainy day back and not have put Silver on that trailer.
The breeder had all but given up on ever finding Silver until a crazy set of circumstances led her to check an old LinkedIn account where she found my message, sent a year earlier. Could it be? She called me immediately and after a tearful conversation, she made plans to reunite with Silver the following day.
And the parts of Silver's stories converged.
You see…Silver was not discarded. She was sent away with hope and promise. There is no denying she fell through the cracks and endured horrific cruelty. But….she was never forgotten. Not for one moment. Rather, she was pursued relentlessly by someone who loved her. Silver could not have imagined that there was hope and a happy ending on the other side of her pain. But all the while the universe was conspiring and setting into motion a series of events that would lead her back to the home she once knew and the people who loved her even before she was born.
I am also guilty of only seeing what is right in front of me, forgetting that there is a bigger plan at work. Even now, as I write this, I can relate to Silver. I tell myself a lot of stories. One story I told myself was that Silver would never be adoptable. I accepted that she would have sanctuary at Nalani, hoping that her heart would eventually heal…oblivious to what was on the horizon, beyond what I could see or imagine. That a desperate message flung with hope into the internet and a phone call on an otherwise uneventful Friday night would change everything.
Once Silver’s breeder came back into her life, the light in Silver’s eyes emerged. As her heart healed, her body followed suit. As Silver and her breeder spent more time together, Silver became playful and opinionated, like she mattered! Watching them together, it was clear that Silver and her breeder were meant to be together. So...we loaded her onto a trailer. But this time, the sun was shining and she walked on eagerly. When we pulled into the farm where she was born, Silver stomped with excitement and once off the trailer, she looked knowingly at her surroundings. She was HOME.
Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
I know this verse so well and yet I have a picture of my future that exists within the boundaries of my imagination and my perception, clouded by my insecurities and past traumas. Silver’s story is nothing short of miraculous. And yet, I tell myself stories about what is possible, being careful to not hope for too much. I wonder what it would be like to allow myself to embrace a version of me that is deserving of all of the miracles the universe has to offer, without limitation. What would THAT story look like?
A beautiful story so beautifully written. May God continue to bless Nalani and Cherry Tapley.