Sunday, October 25, 2015


Today’s world appears to me to be an impatient one. A society where so much is made to throw away and few wish to wait for gratification, instead everything must be now! There is too much importance on things and money and less on those things money can’t buy. A hug, smile, the life of an animal.
Instead too many times they too are bred to be tossed out, to be bait for a dog fight or used as breeding machines. Sometimes I wonder how much we are missing in this throwaway world we live in.
Dinky is a nurse mare foal; he was bred to get his mother in milk that was his only purpose. In the elite horse world, a nurse mare foal has no other purpose. Some of these foals are tossed on the side of the road as if they were garbage. Too many nurse mare foals are sold to the tanner, to make cordovan leather for couches and shoes or pony bags to adorn our homes and bodies until the next trend comes along. Some of them like Dinky are lucky, and a nurse mare foal rescue saves them.
But what happens to this little foal after the rescue has nursed it back to health? Where does it go, who takes care of it, teaches it, and loves it?
Have you ever wondered how this little foal learns what it is to be a horse or if they live in confusion, never learning their place or if they are a human or a horse?
Dinky: The Nurse Mare’s Foal took me nearly three years to write, it was difficult to learn to read the language of a horse. To bond so deeply with them that both of you understand each other, at least as much as any two species can.

If you believe that foals, colts, and horses have emotions, thoughts, and fears of their own should we take this cause on, highlight their plight and force the horse world to change their practice. Perhaps as some believe they are just an animal to be used and tossed aside after they we humans are done with them? If so Dinky’s story and the plight of the nurse mare and her foal will mean little to you.

Sunday, October 11, 2015


“Chrome, Connella, I remembered Little Jimmy today,” Dinky said excitedly.

“Who is Little Jimmy, Dinky,” Connella asked curiously

“Little Jimmy, lived at the old stable with me. I didn’t see him much at first, for her was very sick, Connella. We all overheard the women discussing whether he would make it or not.” Dinky replied.

“Why does that make you so excited, Dinky?” Chrome inquired.

“Well, I guess it’s because Little Jimmy had it so much worse than the rest of us. Even worse than Kaylee did, and he made it, Chrome. For a long time, he had a tube stuck on his face, and you could see his ribs through his skin, for he had no coat on a part of his sides.
Sometimes, at night we would hear people moving around in his stall and heard them as they helped him stand up and held him as they poured milk down his tube. The tube went right through his nose; it looked like an awful way to eat.” Dinky stated.

“Oh my! was all Connella could say at first. “How
ever did you find out that he lived and was okay Dinky?”

“I overheard Marta, Christine, and April discussing it the other day. I have been racking my brain ever since to remember what he looked like the last time I saw him. I remembered the first time, but not the rest, things moved too fast at that time and then I came here.
They said he grew up to be a beautiful Palomino and was a trail horse living in his forever home with people who loved him, just like Ken and Marta love us.”

“That makes me happy too, said Chrome, for you were quite small and sickly when you came here and look at you now.”

Interrupting, Connella said. “Well, that just goes to show how love, care, and faith can work wonders now doesn’t it?”

“It sure does, Connella, you see Dinky, in some ways you nurse mare foals are stronger than the rest of us. It doesn’t matter that you weren’t born to one of the human’s so called ‘elite breeds.’ What a lot of nonsense that is anyway, why do they believe the bloodline makes the horse?”

Sunday, October 4, 2015


Each year over forty-thousands foals are born of these there is no record of how many of them are in need of a nurse mare or how many nurse mare foals are born. In order to bring a mare to milk, she must come to foal, the byproduct and by many called a ‘junk foal.’ They have no other purpose; many are sold to tanners, where their hides make pony bags, cordovan leather for couches and shoes. Some get rescued, our Dinky is a nurse mare foal, he is one of the lucky ones, and he had a chance at life and a home.

al. In the world of the horse industry, the foal of a nurse mare is a necessary
But to achieve that, Dinky had to live the first few months of his life, with the loss of his mother, fear for his future and the lack of understanding of his place in the world. He had no mother or adult horses to teach him how to be a horse. Though at least he had his fellow nurse mare foals and caring humans around him to help him through some of the roughest times of his life.
To many in this world hold life (except their own) worthless and animals are dumb creatures without soul, feelings, thoughts, or heart. It is sad, for one only has to watch the interactions between any animal to see so clearly that it is not so. Animals think, feel, care, are curious about their surroundings and recognize friends and family.

I am not going to tell you that raising Dinky was or is an easy task. It wasn’t and isn’t, but he is worth every moment. He came to us at about five months old, so thin it broke our hearts, needy, frightened and in need of comfort. As with many who adopt nurse mare foals, the tendency to pamper and comfort was there. Only loosely training, for the sweetness and sadness of this little foal touches one's heart so deeply.
Alas, many come to the realization that they made a mistake, treating this small foal as if it were a puppy when it becomes five hundred pounds or more. Ken and I were fortunate, we had some experience with large horses and this headstrong young colt though a handful began his real training.
Dinky has a stubborn streak, we had no wish to break his spirit, nor stem his curiosity, but he needed to know that we were Alpha to him. It was imperative that he learn this for everyone’s safety and his happiness.
The first few times he tipped over the wheelbarrow full of manure, attempting to push it was cute, the fifteenth time it was not. Much of what he does and did remains cute and funny though he has learned over time that there are times and places for it.
Over the next few weeks, I will be writing about Dinky, Lucky, Kaylee, Little Jimmy and many of the other nurse mare foals I met. I will write about their antics, hardships, and where they are today.

Stay tuned for the early days.