by Dana Michalski

Created on: May 02, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

In 1998, pregnant with my one and only child, I received a phone call. My veterinarian had just spoken to the local Sheriff's department. The Sheriff needed some help with an animal neglect call. My vet knew just who to call.

The next day I was on my way to a farm in my old neck of the woods. On the way, my kind vet decided to fill me in on the full story. Seems the neighbors had called in a complaint to the Sheriff's office of neglect, which they had witnessed first hand. There was a horse down in the back 40 pasture. This horse had been unable to get up for the past 4 days. No food, no water, and the middle of a Wisconsin July. The neighbors approached the owners. The owner's then took action by putting a chain around this horse's neck and dragging the horse to the barn behind a tractor. The Sheriff's department was in a bit of a dilemma. They wanted to seize the horse, but had no where to go with a large animal. Our local Humane Society handles only small animals. This is where I come in.

Instead of facing charges of animal neglect, the owner's gave the horse to me. In their words "Wow, you just got a free horse." Free? Let me tell you about "free". Her name was Cookie. I couldn't quite tell at the time, but turns out, she was a red roan. She had very little mane and tail left. She was still covered in her winter coat. Cookie stood about 15 hands. Her halter had grown into her face. Her hooves were so long they curled up at the ends like snow skis. This was my "free" horse.

We managed to get her up long enough to get into the trailer. She couldn't bear to stand up the whole 30 mile ride to my house so she actually laid down the entire ride. If you know horses, then you know that this signals a tremendous amount of pain Cookie was experiencing.

Arriving at my place, I took her into her deeply bedded stall. Still not being able to stand for long, she immediately laid down. My vet and I got to work. He told me that his opinion was that she was so dehydrated, foundered, and the list goes on, that he didn't think she would even make it through the night. With what little money I had in my own pockets, I pleaded with Cookie to keep fighting. I would do everything in my power to free her from her pain. I stayed with her that first night in the barn.

It took a full year of medicine, corrective shoeing, supplements, and proper nutrition to relieve her from her pain. As you can imagine, my vet and farrier bills were outrageous. I knew that first night that Cookie would

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