I CAME into this world one late night, on a grassy parapet in the glow of a street lamp, but disaster befell me the moment I got up to walk. I wobbled, lost my balance and fell into the deep drain. My mother nudged me to help me out, but I couldn’t get out, struggling until I grew tired.
No one was passing at that hour who could have stopped to help, and my worried mother was pacing around restlessly. By the time I saw the first light of day, I was cold, could not feel my legs, and, soon after, help found me. A lady in a red dress, from a red house bordered by flowering plants opposite where I was lying, unlocked her gate and saw my frantic mother. She came closer and saw me struggling in the drain, and I heard her say, ‘Oh my God, this baby is in trouble!’
She looked around for help, but still there was no one, and she hurried back into her house, coming out again quickly, holding something to her ear and talking to someone. The next moment, two young boys came running from around the corner, followed by their father, who lifted me carefully out of the drain. I was wet and trembling but now safe, and my relieved mother walked to the playfield nearby as I followed on shaky legs. But, in crossing the narrow bridge, my disastrous welcome to the world continued as I fell into that drain. My rescuers rushed to take me out again and waited a short while to make sure my mother and I were safely in the playfield. I tried suckling as she grazed on the thick, green grass, but couldn’t get much milk, so I sat down to rest.
Later that morning, another kind lady and her little daughter from nearby came to see me and pet me. I was new to this world and felt comfortable in that wide, grassy field with caring people around, but there were no others like me. Maybe they were somewhere else, so when my mother started to walk out of the field, I followed her and fell into the drain again. The nice lady from the red house and her daughter came to my rescue, getting a construction worker nearby to haul me out.
‘What’s happening to this poor fella?’ I heard her ask.
They put me in a little shady area, dried my coat and gave me water to drink, whilst molasses water was given to my mother. They secured the gate this time before leaving. No more falling into the drain that had shaken me. Somehow, I hadn’t the strength to suckle enough milk from my mother’s breast, but I found comfort in that wide field, green grass, blue skies and a cool wind. I wondered, though, because I hadn’t seen any other horses or ponies, ‘Where is home? Does Mama have a home?’
She seemed sad and tired, her white coat not glistening. I got up to go to her, but my weak legs wouldn’t carry me, and I sat down.
The first day I came into this world passed, and that night it rained. There was no shelter, but my mother stood over me, sheltering me with her body. The sun shone the next morning, and most of the field was wet, but I found a few dry spots. I wanted to run and frolic, but my legs were still weak, so I lay down and rolled from side to side. My mother had walked a little way off as she grazed, and I got up slowly, steadily walking towards her. Then I collapsed.
Something was very wrong with me.
She saw when I fell, came and stood over me, worried and looking around for someone. Sometime later, the lady from the red house came over with molasses water for my mother and was shocked to see my condition.
‘How did this happen?’ she asked herself. ‘He seemed fine this morning.’
She signalled her daughter, a little frantically, to come over to the field. The other kind lady came over, too, and together they moved me to dry ground and wiped my wet body. I heard them on the phone, calling different animal doctors, but they couldn’t reach anyone until late afternoon. They tried feeding me milk from a baby feeding bottle, whilst my mother stood close by, allowing them to do so as they tried to save me. But the milk wouldn’t pass down my throat, and the doctor who came late said I had no suckling power and, without my mother’s milk, I might not survive.
It was getting close to dusk, and the caring voices that had been close for two days seemed to be drifting away. The good man and kind lady from early that first morning made a makeshift shelter over me, just in case it rained during the night. They left at dusk with the hope that I would make it to the morning. It didn’t rain that night, and I lay there in the quietness, with lights all around and my mother never leaving my side. But creeping darkness came closer and closer and, just as I came into the world on a quiet night, I left. The last thing I knew was my mother nudging me.
Morning came, and I lay there, my body cold, but I was free to run and frolic around the field. I spoke to my mother, whose sadness had deepened, and said to her, ‘Don’t be sad. I’m free to live.’
She couldn’t hear me or see me, for I would now go to another world, across the rainbow bridge, where many of my kind lived—no more hunger, no more suffering, free from cruel hands and unkind words. I looked at my mother, who had lost her baby, and I felt sorry to have to leave her.
The lady from the red house came to check on me just after the sun rose. She touched my body and said, with a sad look on her face, ‘Gosh, he didn’t make it.’
Those words gave me the comfort of knowing that there are people who care and are kind to animals, so my mother was in good hands. The lady went back home, brought some molasses water for her and spoke to a couple of men about burying my body in the playfield. Her daughter came to offer her support, and then, because no one else was there, she sat and talked to my mother, trying to comfort her as my resting place was being prepared. But when it was ready, my mother would not allow the strange men near me. The kind lady had to coax my mother out of the field so the barricade could be put up to keep her from coming back.
The moment they picked up my body, she became agitated, neighing distraughtly and trying to get back into the field. I watched, so sorry that I couldn’t comfort her, for I now had to cross the rainbow bridge.
‘I will wait for you there, Mama,’ I said. ‘We will meet one day again, and then you’ll be happy.’
