Sunday, March 19, 2017

Salt River Wild Horse "Group" Did Nothing To Help A Dying Horse.


I haven't posted in a very long time so you know something must have upset me pretty bad to write again.  This is a young wild horse in the Lower Salt River area of the Tonto National Forest near Scottsdale, Arizona in the United States.  Last Tuesday night she went into labor, we know this because a photographer was there to document the birth but the foal was still born.  The mare who was very young herself couldn't drop the dead foal.  So I guess the Salt River Wild Horse Management Group was called to monitor the situation.  They watched this poor little mare struggle in the heat for almost 24 hours before she finally took her last gasp which happened to be underneath me.  The group burst into tears but not one of them, NOT ONE, would come and try to pull the foal out while I held the mare down.  Their leader, who wasn't even present forbid them to, she was worried about liability, so they watch the horror show all day.  Groups, yes even animal rights and welfare groups piss me off, kind hearted and very ineffective.
This horse died in agony and she could have been helped maybe even saved, I mean actually SAVED.  These horses are not very wild they are almost as placid as the Assateague ponies.  They are used to people being in the bushes photographing them, usually stupid loud people with no horse sense what-so-ever.  When I arrived on Wednesday before noon some women from the group stopped me entering the area and said they had a situation.  They directed me to go and take photos of another nearby band.  Not aware of how long this had been going on I respected their wishes.  Although, I did enquire about some people who were a bit closer to the horse and was told they knew what they were doing, they were monitoring the horse as a vet had been called.  We know how that goes, vets aren't going to drop treating those expensive show horses in town to come out and assisted a wild horse, there's no money in it and they might get hurt.
When I was done photographing another lovely stallion I found hanging out under a tree I returned to ask if the vet had arrived?  Something told me these people were animal do-gooders with little hands- on horsemanship.  I thought I would wait with them as I could be of some use to assist a vet, with or without their blessing.  They chatted loudly, horses like quietness and a gentle hand, they are preyed upon animals and can be skittish.  You need to learn the art of being still around wildlife as Isak Dinesen once said.
We sat and listened to the horse straining in pain but her efforts failed, she was getting weak and had had no water, she was dehydrated and needed saline.  The photographer had his seat in a good position but the group didn't want this to get out, and he praised their efforts although they did nothing.  Nobody owns me, I not part of any group and nobody owned those horses as far as I knew, they were on public land.  And, I'm not one to sit and watch any animal suffer when I can do something about it or at least try.  I couldn't live with myself if I did and I'm having a hard time dealing with the fact that others who profess to care about these horses wouldn't help.


I asked why we were waiting for the vet?  The horse got up and down and fought on bravely pushing and pushing.  Other horses came to her and left a few times; when it seemed like her band had left her for dead and gone away, one of the women started walking closer and I joined her.  They said she was desensitizing the horse to prepare it for the vet's arrival.  If it hadn't been for the group apposing my presence I would have gotten to the horse a lot sooner but they kept telling me to stay away.  After a while the other woman gave up and rejoined the group.  I had been trying to give her some simple equine body language hints and we were close.  I threw my camera and cell phone in the grass.  I got close enough to extend my hand to the mare and she sniffed it.  I was down on the ground so as not to intimidate her.  Then the stallion came back and the group members had a fit.  If I had jumped up and ran like they wanted me to do he more than likely would have chased me.  I stayed low and still, looked away from him, and moved to the other side of a bush so he could inspect his mare and then he left.
I took no notice of the women screaming at me to get out of there.  The mare was almost down on the ground.  I thought if I could get to her when she went down I could keep her down and they would come and pull the foal out.  The photograph could even put his camera down and come and help.  He had enough strength to hold a 400mm lens all day, and there were other men present with some strength, enough to watch a horse die.  I'm not very big and I don't work out.  When she did go down I laid on her neck, held her head and spoke softly to her.  The women had drugs to give the horse and I called to them, "drugs would be good right about now."  Nothing.  Then one of them told me I was interfering with nature.
"Fuck you," I said "you are going to watch this horse die and not do anything about it."
Nothing, that's when you know you are really on your own.  When you're holding a horse down with a dead foal hanging out of it and "The Salt River Wild Horse Management Group," who have drugs with them, but no water bucket or halter or anything of use except for cell phones and personal water bottles, are yelling stupid crap like that at you.
"No one?" I said, "not one of you?"
It was probably then that one of them called the sheriffs, rangers or whatever they were, who turned up a bit later.   They hadn't come to help, they had guns and would have shot the horse but I wasn't getting off of her while she was still alive and there was hope.

Then a big tall guy from the group ran over with a cell phone held up to me.   It was their leader on speaker phone, while I'm lying on a sick horse.  She asked me to respect her members and work with them, they would administer the drugs in paste form under the horse's tongue.  She was sending straps and rubber gloves to help get the foal out but only if it became evident that it was absolute necessary.  I said I would work with them and even apologized, I couldn't hold the horse and pull the foal all by myself and I didn't trust any of them to hold the horse.  I knew they wouldn't come near the mare without her being drugged.
It was evident we couldn't wait on the vet, the horse was dying.  Even if the foal came out she might still die of septic poisoning, her gums were not a good color.  The drugs would take 20 minutes to kick in.  I opened the mares mouth and the guy administered them.
One of the women came over and then another, I thought for a brief moment they would help pull the foal.  I suspect the drugs were a bad idea, we needed the horse to help push the foal and they may have relaxed her too much for that, in any case no-one was going to pull that foal and the little mare took one final breath and died.


"She's gone I said," now they didn't want to hear it, "this is a dead horse," I said. "I've got no pulse under her jaw and even the flies know it."
I looked back over her limp body where the buzzing of flies had started in on the carcass and I got up.  The others fell to their knees crying.  I was pretty disgusted with people at that moment.  I found my camera and took some pictures of the band members as they came back to sniff the dead mare.  Then I thought it would be a good idea for me to leave before that vet finally did show up.  The officers interviewed me.  I hadn't done anything wrong, I tried to help an animal in need as I always will until I die.

I wouldn't have written this except some truths need to come out, maybe one or two of the group will think differently about their lack of action the next time this happens.  I've known a lot of horsemen and women over the years and I'm glad to say, none of them would have stood by and watched that without helping, and neither would they have wasted their breath telling me not too.

Annie Wade