By Ellie Riley- Professional Event Groom and Farm Manager at Meadowbrook Farm
When I found out about the horror that existed just down the road from my quiet, peaceful farmhouse, I was sitting on the steps of side porch, watching the dogs in the yard as they sniffed around, and pulling old blooms off of the mum next to me and the pumpkin. It was October of 2015. My phone dinged its familiar ding, and since we live so far out in the county that service is intermittent, I knew I better take a look at whatever it was, while it was still working. It was a link in a FB message to a press release from our local Sheriffs’ office describing a possible seizure and search of a local horse farm. My brain flashed back to my coworker telling me of the local farm with more than 100 horses, the owner not paying her employees and firing people, the horses getting less care, the money she had, the local authorities not responding to the deteriorating condition of the horses, and the frustration of the former workers. It came in pieces my memory of this conversation, but it was MONTHS ago, surely something had been done, surely this wasn’t the same farm, surely it wasn’t this close to my home and I didn’t know about it.
Though I hadn’t formally volunteered for a rescue in VA, I messaged my friend that does and she put me in touch with Hope’s Legacy Equine Rescue. I basically forced my presence at the next day’s seizure on the director of the rescue. She didn’t know me at all, I probably scared her with my zealous recruitment of foster homes. I knew I couldn’t take one at my personal barn because
I was recovering from an injury and already struggling to care for four horses alone with a partially paralyzed wrist/hand. To add formally quarantining an emaciated animal while maintaining an additional full time job just wasn’t realistic. There’s no point in rescuing an animal and taking it to another situation of less than perfect care. These horses would need an extraordinary amount of educated and conscientious attention from lifelong horsemen/women. This was not a job for those that haven’t had rehab experience or those that were just hobby horsemen, or the currently one armed girl, (me). So I sent out the call and the power of social media revealed itself. In minutes, I had foster homes for several horses, hay donations, and the word was spreading.
It was late in the evening, I tried to go to sleep, but between my emotions and wondering what I was to see the next morning, sleep did not come.
Part 2 of this series, coming soon