I went to the Stephenville, TX auction Friday night to investigate allegations
of abuse. I went with a friend, and met up with Sarah Noslaughter (not her real
name) at the auction.
There was a big crowd at Stephenville, and a lot of very nice horses. Prices
ranged from $30.00 for a pitiful, weak weanling colt to
$4,200 for a stunning young quarter horse stallion.
Sarah was given a donation to buy a donkey or a mule. She ended up buying the
cutest little thing for $110.
The killer buyer was named Jones, a deplorable man in a pink cowboy shirt
wearing a handlebar mustache. He often set the opening bids. He bought between
15-20 horses, all fat, sleek and healthy except for 2 or 3 which were lame. Some
very nice horses went to him between $400-$800. Pasture horses. Foals,
yearlings. Mules. People's pets. Kid's mares. Stallions. A beautiful palomino
barrel horse that "won his owner lots of money over the last several
years," but had developed a lameness in his front leg. (What a nice ending
to a horse that made someone money!!) With papers, without papers, it didn't
matter. They were all going to the same place.
They may have been tipped off, but everyone working the auction seemed to
be watching what they were doing when handling the animals, even the scumbag
that herded the horses in and out with a long pole. It started out nice enough.
Most of the night, he used it to tap the horses. But the later into the night it
got, the more freely he swung his weapon, popping horses on the head, jabbing
ribs and hind ends. By the end of the night, he forgot to be on his best
behavior. That's when I snapped.
Well, I ended up buying a bay Thoroughbred colt for $190.00. It was midnight,
everyone had left except for a few, and nobody wanted this colt. So the killer
buyer bid the opening bid, $150.00
They were whipping, beating and jabbing him with poles. He stood, his long legs
shaking in fear, looking bewildered. He wasn't doing anything bad. He just
wasn't moving quick enough for them. He turned to look at his tormentor, and his
face and big brown eyes said, "Why are you hitting me? I am trying to do
what you want." For this, he was hit over the head. The men laughed,
like this was entertainment.
I told Sarah to bid. (I didn't have a bid card.) The killer buyer followed me up
to $190, then quit. He was mine.
Bidding over, the man with the long pole started whipping him out of the ring.
The colt froze, unsure, and the man viciously poked him in the butt over and
over.
I sprang to my feet and yelled, "QUIT BEATING MY HORSE!" All these
cowboy hats turned in unison toward me, eyes staring. The auctioneer laughed,
thinking I was kidding. Then, he saw my face. They were all laughing at me, just
like they laughed at the little colt for being scared. I was furious.
Sarah, Jill and I jumped up, and ran out to the pens to inspect my purchase.
He was a sweet boy, not a mean bone in his body, tall and beautiful. About a
year old, I guessed. A nice, yearling colt.
I was in shock. I had bought a horse! He was very nervous from being mistreated,
but was eating grain out of my hand within 15 minutes. His name, which we all
agreed upon: Impulse.
We were there all night. We had to call a horsey friend at 12:30 AM and have
them bring a trailer from 2 hours away. (I had not planned to bring a horse
home.) We were told to move out front by the road so they could "lock
up", even though the pens were empty. We stood in a makeshift area,
holding the horse for 2 1/2 hours until our ride showed up around 3:00 AM. Then,
it took us another hour to load the colt. He had no idea about trailers. He had
a nice, slow lesson.
The drive home was another 2 hours. By the time we unloaded (no problems) and
got him squared away in a stall, the sun was coming up.
Today, the colt has settled down and is enjoying the attention he is getting. He
is really beautiful, and a willing and honest boy.
I can't believe he almost ended up in Mr. Jones's overcrowded truck-- crammed
full of doomed horses.