Chapter 2
The feedlot owner said I had two choices: He could call me when the mare was better and cleared to leave, and I could buy her then. Or, I could buy her now. I asked him if he would charge me board for her while she recovered, trying to calculate how much more I needed to prepare for in expenses, and he said no – since he put her in quarantine before I bought her, he said that was on him. I felt that was a pretty honest thing to do when he could’ve had $675 in his bank account and extorted me for a daily board charge for a horse I wanted to save from the death he would send her off to.
I told him I wanted to buy her now. I didn’t want to risk her being put on a meat truck because she hadn’t technically been bought. He said he would call me when she was healthy enough to travel. I went ahead and sent him the money a second time and it went through. I was now the official owner of a sick mare whom I had never seen in person and wasn’t allowed to pick up for an undetermined amount of time. I was elated – she was mine!
I sent proof of my payment for the little feedlot mare to the Arabian 300 Club. They immediately sent me $300 to help with the cost of her bail. I thanked the people on the site who had donated for the bail money and for helping me realize a childhood dream – I finally had my own black horse! I felt such a rush of excitement and incredulity – I’d just done something crazy, reckless even – sending almost $700 to a random person for a horse off the internet. There was no guarantee that this wasn’t a big scam and that I wouldn’t be shit out of luck. But it was real, and I didn’t have any misgivings about doing it.
A girl named Jamie from Tinstar Ranch returned my call. She could offer quarantine for my new mare when she was released from the lot. Things were coming together.
Looking back on this time, I know this little mare was meant to be with me. Though at first it seemed like the obstacles were piling up to make it impossible for me to take her on, they were nothing compared to the things that were truly coordinating to make it providential. I mean, not only was she an Arabian, she was a little black beauty, my dream horse. Money had already been raised to help with almost half her cost when I came into the picture. There had already been an owner lined up, but suddenly her bank account was frozen and didn’t resolve as quickly as expected. Another little sign was the mare’s tag number – 5042, which were the same numbers (slightly rearranged) as the last four digits of my phone number at the time – 4052. The universe will give you a gift once in a while when you really need it, and it’s these minute things that may seem insignificant that are really details to pay attention to. Somehow, the stars had aligned, and the little black mare was mine.
I couldn’t wait to meet her.
sym·bi·o·sis 