Hope
"And she said 'How can I help you to say goodbye?
It's ok to hurt, and it's ok to cry.
Come let me hold you, and I will try.
How can I help you... to say goodbye?' "
I found Hope at the Shipshewana, IN auctions in late fall of 2002. She was in the "cripples" pen. At first I didn't give her much thought, aside from pity. She looked too far gone to make it. Her feet were so overgrown and she was so tired and sore that she could barely walk and the auction workers were hitting and prodding her just to get her to move. I had been watching the other horses going through the ring until the auctioneer called out "Bring in the 'crips'" and they proceeded to bring Hope and a few others into the ring. Hopes turn came and no one bid.  I overheard one of the kill buyers say that he would take her for the price of the auction fees. She was sold to the killers. Again, I felt pity as I watched the workers beat her with cattle prods to get her to move to the killer's pen. She stood to one side and waited. I, and the friend I was with, moved down from the walkway to the pen where she stood. We angrily whispered to each other about her condition and the nerve of whoever sent her here when I heard
"...unless this gal wants her.." and I turned around to find myself facing the kill buyer. "Did you want that pony?"
My friend and I just looked at each other and I asked to take her out and look at her. We led her out and I gave her a once over. She was blind in one eye and her feet were a mess. She didn't want me touching her front knees, and I later discovered that she was just really sore there. Financial common sense would have told me no, but when I looked into her eyes... I couldn't possibly let the killer have her.  "How much?" I asked.  "$35" he answered. "No lower?" I asked, having barely that much in my purse. "No."
Well, I gave him the $35 and she was mine. I used every last dollar I had with me after that to pay for a man to trailer her home for me.
I can tell you this though; It was worth it.
Hope was truely a blessing. With proper care and feeding, I watched her return to health. She showed evidence of having been trained to pull a cart, and was a very well mannered sweetheart. At first, she would try to bite if I touched her knees, but with rest and farrier work, the soreness faded and I was gradually able to work with her more. My gelding had been lacking a pasture mate and bonded to her quickly, though he insisted on having the upper ranking in the pecking order. We both grew attached to her.

On February 26, 2003 I drove out to feed the horses and discovered that Hope was down in the field. To make a long story short, she couldn't get back up, even with the help of my neighbor and I. The vet was called, and he said that she could have had a seisure, or some other condition that I fail to remember the name of. But either way, she couldn't stand herself, and would die if left overnight on the cold ground. The vet told me that he held very little hope, if any, that she would survive. It was time to make that decision I had been dreading. I never had to have a pet put down before, and this would be the final lesson that Hope would teach me; how to say goodbye.
I hugged her neck and cried as the vet got the equipment from his truck.  She passed quietly after the injection, slowly fading as I stroked her cheek and neck. As hard as it was, I'm glad I was able to be with her through the end. She was burried at the southwest end of the field and I marked the spot with a plain and unmarked, but beautiful stone. In a way the stone reflects her, seemingly plain and ordinary at the auction, but turning out to be beautiful in many ways.
Hope, the day that I bought her. You can kind of see how long her back feet were.
The following summer. She put on good weight and a nice coat. Her feet are still a bit long here, as the farrier said he was afraid to cut off too much at a time.