Captured, ripped from her homeland, and still homeless 4 years later.
Captivating, heart breaking story
based on a True story about a still homeless Mustang filly.
I just love the spring here on the prairie. The sun is shinning longer every day. The warmth of the afternoon starts to warm me to my bones as I spend most of the day doing absolutely nothing. I’m just laying in the sun sleeping or playing with the with the other yearlings.
I love it here. I have a mom that takes such great care of me and this year I got a new baby brother. I love just being silly, eating the fresh spring grass and playing with all my friends. The perfect life just relaxing and enjoying the day.
WAIT! That’s my dad’s warning. His feet are starting to pound the ground like thunder. I can hear the anger and now rage coming from his voice.
I try to scramble to my feet but my foot slips and I almost fall. In a flash, without any other warning, dad starts running the entire herd.
His mane flying wildly as he speeds to the front.
I have never seen him so angry or upset.
Why is he so startled?
What is wrong?
I look for my younger brother and my mom, but I can’t see them.
I turn and run with the rest of the herd. We are running faster and faster as everyone starts to realize something is terribly wrong.
A couple of the other younger boys wheel around to find out what is going on and to help my dad. In seconds they are so startled they just spin back around and take off, passing many of the others in their panicked flight.
Suddenly, a loud, strange, whiny noise comes from the distance, one that I haven’t heard before. It keeps getting louder and louder. There is something up in the sky. My dad is making the herd more to the west, to keep us out of harms way.
The object in the sky gets closer to him. The herd starts to panic even more. We start to turn. My dad just can’t get them to listen. Everyone starts to turn back.
My dad is outraged, but not wanting to leave us, he starts to follow.
Taking giants leaps, he gallops across the uneven footing. He is running flat-out trying to get back in front to turn us around once more. But everyone is too scared.
I just don’t understand why that thing is chasing us.
We are at a full run now. I don’t know where we are going. I’m so scared.
I keep looking for my mom and my brother, but I can’t see them anywhere. We just keep running. We must have run several miles by now. We crossed the river and headed down the valley. I don’t know if I can run any further. My lungs seem like they are on fire.
I so confused and I don’t know where I am any longer.
Where is my Mom? I start to panic. I can see what looks like a blockade up ahead. Where’s my mom?
I can’t hear her at all. I can’t see her. I want my mom. I cry out with all that I have let in me.
My dad circles back around and heads to the back of the herd to see if he can escape, but how there are other horses and more men chasing us and driving us forward.
I want to go home now. I want to go back. Mom! Mom! I scream. Where are you? But I can’t hear anything above the noise from the sky.
I can’t see my dad any more either. Dad! Dad!
The herd pushes me forward into small boxes. I am packed in the middle with most of the older mares. They keep bumping me from all sides. I am so afraid.
Most of us are still in a panic. It is hard to realize that there are so many of packed into this little area. My legs and muscles just ache. There is just no place to lay down. There is no safe place just to rest.
What are they doing with us?
What is going to happen now?
Why can’t we just go home?
The water is so stale and at times, it is almost too hot to drink. The grass they give us is old and hard to chew.
I have been dreaming about some of the fresh prairie grass, fresh and so tasty. I keep thinking about going home and getting a cool drink of fresh water from the edge of the banks of the river. It is always cool and oh so refreshing. Can I go home now?
I whinny out, but no one is answering anymore.
There is just no place to rest that feels safe to me.
We are all wondering what is going to happen to us next. One by one they keep taking us away. None of them are coming back.
Where are they taking them all? Will I have to leave and never get to come back. I hang my head wondering what will happen to me. Will I be next?
I just want my mom. I want my family. I want to go home.
One of the older mares, said that my younger brother didn’t make it crossing the river. She was behind him. One minute he was there, and then all of a sudden he got in-between some of the older horses.
She saw him struggling to keep his head above the water, but she couldn’t get to him. Then she couldn’t see him anymore. She kept watching, but see never did see him again.
I still keep wanting to see or hear my mom.
I can hear my dad.
He has hardly stopped his pawing the ground or giving us warnings for all of us to be careful.
Since the moment we stopped he has tried to keep us together. I can hear him saying goodbye to each one as they take them away.
Telling them to try not to worry.
Most of his cries are loud but at times I can hear his soft nicker as if he is telling us all that it will all be OK. His voice is all that keeps me going.
I nicker back and he whispers how much he loves me.
I love you too, Dad.
I wish I could see him.
I know he would take me back home if he could. I know he would find my younger brother. If he was with me, I would feel so much safer.
Most of us are gone now. One-by-one they have taken us away. With other horses and men, they come in with ropes and force us into a large metal box.
I know they will be coming for me soon. My dad is silent now. I am not sure if he is still here.
I never did see my mom again. I never got to even say Good-bye.
Oh crap, here they come again. Oh, no they are after me this time. I am just too tired to fight anymore. I never get to rest and I am always hungry.
I start to move slowly. One of the riders takes his rope several times above my head, and slaps my rump.
It stings and I leap forward with the rest of the herd.
The footing is slippery. It sounds funny.
Most of the younger horses are being loaded. I think we have all given up hope of ever going home again.
I sure wouldn’t mind having one of those riders get close enough to my feet. I sure would show them what my dad taught me.
My feet keep slipping. We are moving in this funny box.
Everyone has to keep leaning on each other to stay on their feet. One colt goes down. He is struggling so hard to get back up. The young bay filly is trying not to step on him, but she nicks his leg. He is finally back on his feet. I can see that his leg hurts. None of us can hardly stand up in here.
Most of the day and into the night, it just keeps moving.
There doesn’t seem to be an end to all of this. I have seen two more winters come and go. Everyone is gone except just three of us now; the gray colt, the one that hurt his leg, he is now my best friend and one other filly. She was just a baby when she got here. She hates the food and never eats much. She is so thin.
Here we go again.
They push us through the pens and into a place where there is a lot of people. Nothing seems to change except they move us to a different spot each time.
I have spent more time in that moving trailer than I did being free out on the prairie.
I still remember though. I remember running free; playing, laughing, racing all my friends ang watching my dad carefully watching over us day and night. I would give my life to hear his voice just one more time.
I know my mom is gone forever. Nothing will ever be the same and I will never hear the wild thunder from the herd under my hooves again.
Penned-up forever; Imprisoned for no reason.
The loud voice, again starts asking for bids, but nothing happens.
Some of us leave after one of these auctions, but I am so thin and I hate these humans touching me so no one has ever bid on me. Every time they get near me, they hurt me or beat with ropes as they force me in and out of pens and trailers.
Is that all they know how to do is hurt us?
What I would give to hear a kind voice.
I overheard one of the workers tell a Cowboy, “This is the last stop. It’s three strikes and your out! The ones we don’t sell will end up in the slaughter house.
Is this the end for me?
The Cowboy takes a look at me.
He has kind eyes.
“I’ll take them” he says. I’ll take these four.
Before we know it, we are in the trailer and moving again, but something is different. I can stand up in this trailer. The driver is very careful. In a short time we are stopping. We are all unloaded and allowed to mingle with other horses. They all seem happy. They have fresh water and good food, and there’s GRASS
I can see that same man coming towards us. He comes to the gate and peeks in.
His voice is soft. I like that. I think it is the first time in over three seasons that someone has talked to me so softly. He reminds me of my dad.
I wonder if he is nice. I wonder where we are going this time. Maybe this is the end of my travels for a while.
Days pass and I come to like it here.
There’s also a very nice lady. She brings me treats. I still can’t bring myself to trust them. The are humans, after all. But … they never yell us me and they never hit me, not once.
Maybe, just maybe things will be different now.
Just like my dad, Jim keeps telling me everything will be alright. He keeps reminding me that this is only temporary and that he is looking hard to find me a home.
I would love to have a place to call home again. I wonder what I did so wrong not to be able to have a home for so many years. There are more of us here without a home. We all talk about what it would be like, a home of our own.
It is hard to imagine, after all this time that there might be a home for me again. I keep wondering if it will be nice with lots of fresh water and a place so safe, I can lay down to rest once again in the warm sunshine.
When the spring came this year, I was 4 years old. I lost my home, my mom, my dad and my baby brother when I was only one.
That’s a long time to wait to have someone love me again.
What is Thanksgiving? Jim told me he has a special treat for me on Thanksgiving.
Humans, the are such odd beings. But I’m watching the other horse, and I see how much they like him. Maybe I can learn to trust these people.
I heard Knot-a-Tail is sponsoring me and helping to take care of me until I find a home.
Do you what they did?
They trimmed hair from my tail From my tail! Can you imagine?
They used the hair to make mustang bracelets.
I think they are very pretty. They use the funds to buy me things. I guess I do need a few things. All girls do.
Whinny’s for now. I am the still homeless spotted Mustang, but I now have hope that I’ll find a good home soon.
PS: they call me Dallas but they said my new owner could rename me. I truly want a name of my own and a home with someone to love me like my family did.
Dallas was correct, Jim carefully managed to trim her tail so Roberta could make a few Mustang bracelets. Since Dallas donated the hair, all the profits from the sale of the bracelets are used to help support her. There is only 6 available.
Here is the link to read more about Dallas as she waits for a new home.
If you have a home for Dallas and would like more information, just contact the Cowboy.
Here is Jim’s (the cowboy) email address; email@example.com