I’ll start my story on November 28, 2011, the day before the last terrible day. My best friend Hoover and I had been left in a field to fend for ourselves. That was not working out. I’m not sure how long we had been abandoned, but Hoover’s hooves grew so long and were so painful that he couldn’t walk to graze. He was starving to death, hundreds of pounds lost. I had a bad foot and bad nutrition but was mostly concerned about Hoover. I watched day after day as he stayed down, unable to get food. This terrible night, the owner of our field got wind that people were on the way to help us, and he came out to trim Hoover’s feet with a chainsaw! I tried to protect him, but I am fearful of humans and no match for a chainsaw. I thought this was our last night. I have made protecting Hoover from danger my life’s work, but even with my size and strength and determination, I couldn’t protect him from humans. That night, I stayed close to Hoover, exhausted from all the failed efforts to keep him safe.
On the last terrible day, all kinds of humans came to our field and tried to get me into a trailer. Sheriff’s deputies, motorcycles, another horse, so many humans. The noise!! I cannot stand loud noises! The humans thought they had worn me down after a six-hour chase. I finally decided to go into the trailer because they had Hoover and he called for me. Where Hoover goes, Thor goes. After a miserable ride (I can’t stand being so confined, and the sound of the truck was so loud), we were let out inside a large arena, full of soft dirt. They brought us hay and water. You should have seen Hoover eat! He ate standing up until his pain medicine wore off. He ate lying down while they cared for his poor feet. I admit I enjoyed the food myself but kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It didn’t. They just kept feeding us, talking quietly with us, and having people look at Hoover’s feet. They couldn’t get close enough to me to look at my feet! Eventually we ended up in side-by-side, cozy stalls with soft hay. We were warm; we were dry; we had endless food and water; and we were next to each other. Did people really care about us here? I wasn’t buying that quite yet.
I won’t describe our lives before we were brought to Equamore. Some things are better forgotten. Let’s just say I am not a person horse. Humans make me anxious and, thankfully, I seem to scare most of them, too. Since we have been here I have made some other horse friends, though I still watch over Hoover. Hoover’s feet keep getting better —he has special boots, medicine, a soft turnout, and so much attention it’s almost embarrassing! You should have seen him: a red Thoroughbred in that purple blanket during the cold weather! Finally, something to chuckle about! I hope he can join me every day in the pasture soon. There are some parts of the fields here I want to explore, but I won’t go that far from him. I am, as before, standing watch, waiting for Hoover. I hope he can come one day and trot on with me to the high field with the spring grass. I watch over him; I wait for him; I hope for us both…
I am planning on writing a blog in my free time. You actually have no idea how much time it takes looking after Hoover – just worrying and pacing takes half my day. But I’ll do what I can after my work each day. Check in on me later if you want to hear how we are doing and how I am doing with the humans here.
I am Thor. And I am an Equamore horse.