Meet the permanent residents at Mountain States Horse Rescue and Rehab!

Molly Brown's Story Kodiak Rescue Me -- A Poem


Molly Brown, 1 month after arrival at MSHRR
Molly Brown, 1956 - 1999


Molly's Story -- A 12 year old horse in a 43 year old body!

I am old now and the cold seeps into my tired old body like a knife. I am so tired. I keep
staggering when I try to walk. Grazing is beyond me, my front teeth have broken off and they cut me when I try to eat, so I have quit trying. I am so hungry. There was a man here yesterday and he seemed nice but, like the others, he left me alone.

I always tried to be a good horse. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. I've never bitten or kicked anyone. My mother taught me all the rules when I was so little. I remember being young and carrying my master's family like the wind. Later, when they would show up with little likenesses of themselves I carried them slowly because I knew they couldn't hang on well. They haven't been up here in ten summers or more. I wonder sometimes if they know I am still alive. They couldn't know. They would be here. They would care for me. They loved me. Didn't they? Where are my people?

It is snowing hard and the ground is getting white. I'm thirsty but it's so far down the mountain to get to water and I can't remember if it's frozen or not. I know if I lie down I'll never get up again. There have been more than 35 summers that I am sure of, but these last few years have drifed into a blur. I am so cold, so hungry and thirst. I AM DYING!....

Gosh, I am hearing things, right? Trucks. Not up here on a closed road. But it's true. Four trucks, and the white one has a horse trailer. Food, water. I am so anxious that I stumble and fall. I start muttering to myself that I can't let them see me like this. They won't want anything to do with me. I'm just an old bag of bones. But they drive right up to little old me. I don't know anyone but the man in green. He was here yesterday.

Some woman gets out of the truck with the trailer. She has a bucket in her hand that she says is mine. There is some hot stuff in it. Let's see. Oh my gracious me it's delicious. A blanket? For me? I have died. This must be heaven. Oh you want me to get in the trailer? I'm to go live with you? You got more of the gooey stuff? I'm all yours!

That was back in the snow season and the summer has been good. The food keeps coming and I am fat now. I have a name too. They named me Molly Brown. There are a lot of other horses here and I am with another very old mare who tells me she will be forty next spring, the moon of the new foals. There was a new baby here this spring and it helped me feel young again. My Lady doesn't mind that I am missing an eye, she tells me I am good and wonderful every day. I try to tell here I lover her, too, and I think she understands.

Molly passed away on March 24, 1999. She lived a long life and we will miss her dearly here at the rescue. This page is dedicated to Molly and other horses, like her, who held a special place in the hearts of their owners.


Kodiak

Check back soon for more information on Kodiak, our newest addition to Molly's Meadows.



Rescue Me

The sparkle of life has long since left my tired eyes
Years of neglect have brought me here
A steel hand is all that I have felt
The bang of an auction gavel sealed my fate
The huge steel truck stands before me

But a golden ray of sunshine comes upon me
A soft voice whispers in my drooping ears
A gentle hand touches my tired withers
Although I flinch, I do not feel the sting of a whip

Calming words and a soothing voice ease my fears
A halter and lead rope are gently placed on me
Another trailer stands before me now, I am urged to go inside
I struggle with fear and pull back hard on the rope
Awaiting harsh words and whip lashes, I pull harder

But no harsh words hurt my ears
No sting from the whip piercing my skin
I only hear more gentle soothing words
With fear and trepidation, I step into the trailer
My entire body quivers in fear
A huge mound of fresh green hay awaits me

At my destination, I am gently led into an enormous stall with deep, soft bedding
A trough of clear, cool water to drink from
A feed tub with fresh grain awaits me
I peek out of my stall door to a pasture of lush green grass
I wonder to myself, "Is this the Rainbow Bridge?"
The horse in the stall next to me nickers,
"No, it's an equine rescue."

-- Dana R. Hendrix


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