"No Day Off"-"Running For Their Lives"

**Please note** I am simply passing along this story on my blog. I was not involved with this documentary. However, if you would like to donate to the rescue that WAS involved with this documentary, please contact Gail Vacca at- GLV190@aol.com or you can call her at-815-761-4937. Thank you for caring :)


No Day Off
Behind the Scenes of the HBO Real Sports Documentary:
"Running For Their Lives"

by: Anne Russek

The following is my account of the behind the scene events that
contributed to the HBO documentary" Hidden Horses." The following
individuals will be mentioned in this story as they played vital
roles in the production as it pertained to the racehorses. Gail
Vacca, Becky Care, and Diana McClure are members of the racing
industry, without whose help the Sugarcreek segment would not
have been possible. I am sure that there are no words I can write
that will adequately convey to the rest of you how supportive and
involved these three women were. Hopefully, by the end of the
story, you will see them for the unique and caring individuals
that they are. I am blessed to have them as my friends.

I had previously written about events that occurred at the
Sugarcreek Auction in Ohio on April 11 of this year. At that
time, because of a scheduling conflict with HBO, six
thoroughbreds and one pony were rescued from the auction. ( That
story is on many horse sites referred to as "'How Luck and a
Village Saved the Sugarcreek Six").

After that rescue, an assistant producer from HBO, Ryan Goldberg,
contacted me to ask if I would be interested in assisting in an
undercover documentary depicting the chain of events that allows
for Thoroughbreds to go from the racetrack to the auctions that
then ship to slaughter. I was more than willing to assist in this
production.

I have been involved in racing for over thirty years. I love
horses, and I love racing. Five years ago I became aware of the
American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act. It was at that time I
first became aware of how many thousands of Thoroughbreds go to
slaughter every year. This was absolutely unacceptable to me, and
I committed myself to helping to end horse slaughter in this
country.

Since this practice of disposing of racehorses happens at every
track across the country, we first needed to decide which track
to video. I told Ryan that for several years, a young girl named
Becky Care, who worked as a groom at Mountaineer Racetrack, had
been reporting to me about the terrible conditions there.
Mountaineer is located within an hours drive of the Sugarcreek
Auction. This allows for owners and trainers to conveniently
dispose of racehorses on a weekly basis. On several occasions, I
had helped Becky rescue some of these horses, but it truly was a
drop in the bucket. The last horse we rescued, Almighty Above,
was such an upsetting experience for Becky that she quit her job
as a groom and took a job in one of the restaurants at the
Mountaineer Casino.

I called Becky and asked her if it was still" business as usual
"at the track. Becky assured me that things had only gotten
worse. The track has a policy that any horse who does not finish
first through fourth in their last five races, must be removed
from the stable area within five days of that last race. Since
most of the trainers at Mountaineer do not have farms and do not
make money from their training endeavors, sending horses to
Sugarcreek is an acceptable option for disposal. There are
actually designated pick up days, Mondays and Thursdays, at which
time either Dick Rudibaugh or Wilson Langley will bring their
trailers into the stable area to get the horses. For years, Dick
Rudibaugh was the main "meat man", but after suffering a heart
attack, Rudibaugh has slowed down a little and word on the
backside is that Langley would like to take over.

HBO explained to me that it was imperative we could chronicle
specific Thoroughbreds being loaded at Mountaineer Park,
transported to Sugarcreek, run through the auction, purchased by
known kill buyers, and then being loaded onto the trailers bound
for either Canada or Mexico. The only way to identify that the
Thoroughbreds were the same ones from the track to the auction
was through their tattoo numbers.

Ryan explained to me that I would have to track the horses once
they arrived at the auction. I assured him I could do this, but I
would need Becky to help me. I called Becky and asked her if she
was interested in the project. I told her I understood that there
could be ramifications for her if she chose to participate
because , unlike me, she lived there. Becky never hesitated for a
moment. Although Becky acknowledged that if Mountaineer found out
she had helped, she would likely lose her job, she understood
that this was a chance to show the entire country the abuse and
horror these horses endure. Becky was totally on board.

When I called Ryan back to tell him we were set to go, he dropped
the bombshell. I was told that the legal department of HBO had
indicated that there could not be any rescue of any of the horses
filmed. It was explained to me that a rescue could be perceived
as a staged event, and that those people who profited from horse
slaughter, would only dismiss the documentary as such. I was
devastated and emotionally distraught. How could I possibly
participate in a documentary knowing that the horses I helped
identify would go to slaughter?

I appealed to the HBO producers to rewrite their story." Wouldn't
it be so much better for people to know the horses were saved?"
I asked. "Once we showed that the horses had been purchased by a
kill buyer, wouldn't that prove our point?". I presented my case
over and over, using every angle I could think of to change the
producers mind, but the HBO legal counsel would not/could not
budge. Since the documentary was undercover, I was not at liberty
to call my friends and ask their advice. I realized for the first
time in my life that I was not special. I was not strong enough
or smart enough to figure out a way to get my way. I was going to
have to compromise my integrity to prove a point. For years I
have been telling anyone who would listen that there is nothing
legal I won't do to help stop horse slaughter. I never could have
imagined that I would have to facilitate slaughter to help end
it. I wear my shame every day.

It was decided that we would meet at Mountaineer Racetrack on
Thursday, April 17. I left my home in Virginia at 2 AM Wednesday
morning. I was better prepared for the auction having been there
the week before. This time I brought my own halter and a tape
recorder in case we couldn't write down the tattoo numbers. I
also brought a thermometer because I wanted to take the
temperature of any horses that looked sick. At the time, I
actually thought if I could show that certain horses were too
sick to travel, they would not be sent to slaughter. Driving for
hours in the early morning darkness, I was alone with my
thoughts. I was aware that this was no dress rehearsal.
Everything depended on all the players maintaining their usual
routine. What if Rudibaugh was sick? What if HBO wasn't discreet?
What if I could not get to see the sign out sheet for the horses
as I had the week before? My mind was overwhelmed with details.
As the morning sun began to appear, I determined to remain
optimistic.

I arrived at Mountaineer Park around 8:30 A.M. I pulled into an
employee parking lot that sits between the stable area and the
racetrack. Dick Rudibaugh´s truck and stock trailer were
parked alongside the fence, where he always parks before going
into the backside to pick up horses. At least I knew I was on
time. I called Ryan on my cell phone and he told me where to meet
him. Ryan and the camera person, Sarah, were by the track
watching horses gallop. Since I knew the pick up procedure from
the week before, Sarah decided she would wait by the stable gate
and follow Rudibaugh as he drove through the stable area, and
Ryan and I would wander the barn area following Rudibaugh from a
different direction. The stable area at Mountaineer has very poor
visual access from barn to barn. The barns are very long and are
situated parallel to each other alongside a slight hill. You can
only see down alleyways between each barn, we had to keep track
of each other via our phones.

Sarah called to tell us that Rudibaugh had pulled into the
stable area and was heading towards his first barn. Sarah was
able to film two men ,and Rudibaugh ,attempting to load a bay
filly onto the trailer. The filly was absolutely refusing to get
on the metal stock-trailer. They had put a lip chain on her and
were very aggressive, shanking her repeatedly.

Sarah heard the men tell Rudibaugh he needed to move the trailer
to another spot so that the step up was more level. Rudibaugh
said he knew a spot closer to the stable gate and they should
meet him there. Sarah and I followed Rudibaugh and once he had
parked the trailer, the two men walked the filly to the new
loading spot. Once again, the filly would not load. Sarah was
standing almost next to the one man, Nino Pizzuro. He started to
tell Sarah that the filly did not want to race, and that she was
going to a farm or a sale. Nino even told Sarah the mares name,
NO DAY OFF.

Nino and his friend spent quite awhile trying to force the filly
onto the trailer, continuing to shank her mercilessly for her
refusal. I had to keep walking away to keep myself from
interfering. It was impossible not to keep thinking that somehow
she knew getting on that trailer was the wrong thing to do.
Finally, they backed the filly onto the trailer. Rudibaugh got
back in his truck, drove to the stable gate, signed the horse out
,and left. Sarah walked over to where I was sitting and sat down
beside me. I asked her if she had gotten everything and she said
yes. I told her that was one of the most unprofessional and
abusive examples of loading a horse I had ever witnessed. I
couldn't keep from quietly crying, I told Sarah I felt very
guilty, she agreed it was a very hard situation.

Sarah went to her car to check out the footage and Ryan called
Gail to tell her the name of the horse so that Gail could
identify her tattoo number. I went to see a trainer I knew who
was stabled there. I was carrying my digital camera that I had
brought along for no particular reason. As I walked past the
track security office, a guard came out the door and hollered at
me ,"hey, no cameras allowed back here". I told him I only had it
to take some pictures of my friends horses. The guard told me I
must take it to my car immediately or I would be asked to leave
the stable area. I asked him what the problem was, and said
surely owners come to the track to take pictures of their horses.
He told me that Rosemary Williams, the Mountaineer general
manager, had prohibited cameras on the backside and I needed to
get permission from her. I have been on the racetrack over thirty
years and I have never heard of such a stupid rule. Another
trainer who was passing by and overheard the guard, made the
sarcastic comment that the reason Williams didn't want people
taking pictures was because she was afraid that someone would
steal the architectural designs for the barns. Considering that
Mountaineer Park is one of the most debilitated barn areas I have
ever seen, his remark was quite funny.

Gail called back with No Day Off's tattoo number, H19563, and
told us that the filly had just raced the previous Saturday and
had been pulled up during the race. She was owned and trained by
Ricardo Hernandez. We did not know at that time that Nino was not
Ricardo.

Ryan had to drive Sarah to the airport as she was returning to
New York and so I told Ryan I would meet him early the next
morning at Sugarcreek. I had the rest of the day to drive to Ohio
to my motel and so I decided to drive by Rudibaugh´s farm
to see if I could find No Day Off. About that time I met up with
Becky who told me she had trouble getting off from work and did
not think she could get to Sugarcreek before 2 P.M. the next day.
I knew that would be a big problem, you definitely need two
people to identify the horses. One person to hold the horses
head, and the other to read the tattoo. I called Gail and told
her the problem. Gail was worried also and said she would call a
few people she knew who had rescued horses from Sugarcreek to see
if they could meet me on Friday to help. I told Becky not to
worry, something would work out, although at the time I wasn't
sure what.

I did drive past Rudibaugh´s house but there were no
horses in sight. By the time I got there, he had already unhooked
his trailer but I could only see his truck from the road. I was
quite certain that No Day Off was not there. I actually had a
knot in my stomach because I was worried that Rudibaugh was going
to leave her on the stock trailer all night because she had been
so difficult to load.

I then drove to Leroy Bakers farm because it is on the way to
Sugarcreek. In fact, Bakers farm is about thirteen miles from
Rudibaugh´s. There were several houses on either side of
the road that must have been relatives of Bakers because each
driveway had either a truck or a semi in it with the Sugarcreek
Auction logo on the side. There was a barn, but it was too far
off the road for me to see into, but I suspected that No Day Off
and other horses could be in there. I couldn't shake the feeling
that if she was in that barn, she was without hay or water. I was
starting to realize that from the time she had left Mountaineer
that morning, her journey to slaughter would be a constant
downward spiral. Everything happening to her now would be totally
foreign to her, her entire routine was disrupted, there would be
no kindness, only varying degrees of brutality. My own thoughts
were turning into despair.

I was almost to Sugarcreek when Gail called. She told me that my
good friend, Diana McClure was going to fly into Akron from
Virginia to help me on Friday. I expressed concern that Diana was
leaving her training farm operation at the drop of a hat to come
be with me. Gail said there was no way they were going to let me
do this alone. I cannot begin to convey the wave of relief that
overcame me. I did not want to endure this experience by myself,
I was so very thankful that these two friends had sensed my
vulnerability. I picked Diana up late Thursday night and we
checked into a hotel and made our plans for the next morning.

We arrived at the auction around 9 AM Friday morning. Besides the
Amish employees, we were one of the first ones there. I showed
Diana how to navigate the auction and the pen areas, and she was
quick to notice the very thin and sick horses that were already
there.

We found a pen of horses that we knew were Standardbreds and we
decided to record their tattoo numbers. Diana was quick to catch
on that the horses are in constant motion to protect themselves
from getting kicked. During the day, as the pens fill up, the
horses push and bump each other to find safety. Diana commented
that she did not understand why there were so many horses in
very good shape at the auction. It made no sense why people would
think this auction would be a good venue to re market their
horses.

As we walked down an aisleway, I noticed a large bottle of
Banamine (painkiller) sitting on a ledge behind a post. There was
a syringe stuck into the top of the bottle. Anyone could have
used this medication for any purpose. We went to the unloading
area and watched the horses coming in. Trailer after trailer
pulled up. The usual kill dealers were there, Ramey, (KY) Bauer,(
OH)& Fisher(PA).

The same veterinarian from the previous week, Melissa Reddick,
was drawing blood for coggins testing. As usual, horses with
halters were held for this procedure. Horses without halters were
run down chutes, individually singled out by being beaten with
sticks, pinned between a wooden gate and the wall, slapped and
kicked if they moved a muscle, while Reddick climbed up the side
of the gate and reached over to stick the needle into the vein
and draw blood. This method is repeated over and over throughout
the day. There is never any attempt by Dr. Reddick to record
tattoo numbers, even on those horses that come directly from the
racetracks.

Diana and I became very busy trying to follow the groups of
horses as they were herded into different pens. The larger pens
were filling up very quickly and in one such pen Diana spotted a
severely injured horse that looked like a thoroughbred. We
climbed into the pen and it was apparent that the horse had a
broken hock. He was unable to bear any weight on the leg, and
Diana attempted to move him to a corner of the pen where he would
be less likely to be kicked by others, but he was unable to move
because the horses were packed so tightly together.

We pulled his tattoo number, he was a Standardbred, R9428. I told
Diana to go tell Dr. Reddick that the horse was in trouble. I
told Diana to be sure and tell Reddick that she (Diana) is a
Thoroughbred trainer who can identify a horse with a broken leg
when she sees one. Diana went to Reddick who was back at the
unloading area and reported the horse. Dr. Reddick told Diana it
was not her (Reddick´s) problem. She told Diana that since
the horse was still owned privately, only the owner of the horse
could authorize her to treat the horse. Since the horse was in a
pen with horses that had been dropped off, it was highly unlikely
the owner was presently at the auction. Diana went to the office
with the horses hip number#81, and asked them to tell her the
name of the owner. The lady in the office said she was too busy
and would look later if she had time.

Diana returned to Dr. Reddick and again implored her to please
come look at the horse. Dr. Reddick said if Diana was that
concerned, she should ask one of the Amish to move the horse to a
private pen. Diana approached not one, but several of the Amish
to ask them to help her. Aside from looking at her as if she had
three heads, they did nothing. Diana was starting to realize the
hell hole she was in.

Diana came back to me and we discussed our limited options. The
injured horse was at the back of the crowded pen, farthest from
the gate. He could not walk, so Diana climbed back into the pen
and herded the more aggressive horses away from him. For a few
minutes I was horrified that Diana was going to get kicked.
Horses were pushing and shoving, biting each other, kicking,
squealing, all in an attempt to get away from the aggressive
horses. I grabbed Diana by her shirt collar and helped pull her
back up out of the pen.

About this time Ryan called us on his cell and told us a trailer
with Thoroughbreds had just pulled in. We watched as they were
run off the trailer with sticks and into an alleyway with gates
at each end. Diana and I sprang into action to get tattoos.

Using the halter I had brought with me we developed a system
whereby I would hold the horses and hold back their lips, Diana
would read the number, then she would hold the horse while I
wrote down the number, and then she would reread the number back
to me for clarification. The difficulty lie in the fact that
there was so much commotion all around us. Not to mention, the
Amish knew we were up to something, so they continued to keep the
horses moving from one end of the aisleway to the other.

Most of these horses, under ordinary circumstances, would stand
very quietly while we handled them. The problem is that from the
time the Thoroughbreds leave the track, everyone who handles them
uses such abusive force during the auction process, they
instinctively revert to their flight instincts. This can be said
for any horse at this auction. In a very short time, people have
become predators to these horses. The constant yelling, hitting
and kicking these horses endure makes it very difficult for
anyone to handle them once they are at Sugarcreek.

We began to notice that all the Thoroughbreds were kept in pens
closest to the auction ring. This should have made things easier
except that the Amish kept moving them from pen to pen. At one
point, five or six thoroughbreds came running at us, slipping and
sliding on the concrete floor, with their halters on. The halters
actually had the horses names on them, Point of Attack and
Timbers Prospect. How in the world does a trainer take the time
to have a horses name embroidered on a halter, only to send that
horse to slaughter?

Diana and I frantically tried to quiet them down and read their
tattoos. As I would hold one of them, the Amish would try and
take the halter off before we could read the tattoo. I would ask
them to wait, but they acted as if they couldn't hear me. We
continued to record tattoos in spite of the Amish. I was
constantly asking God to help us, especially with the horses that
were reluctant to let us hold their heads and flip their lips.

Sometimes Diana could not make out a letter or a number, and we
would have to try again and again. One horse in particular, had
an unreadable tattoo. Every time we had a chance, we kept going
back to that horse to try again. We never did get it right, he
was our only failure.

Around noon, five thoroughbreds were trailered in with Jim
Snodgrass from Thistledown Racetrack. He actually told us
personal traits about some of the horses, and indicated he hoped
we would purchase them privately. At first we thought Snodgrass
might have an ounce of redeemable character, but when he
proceeded to pull the halters off the horses, while we were
trying to get their tattoos, we realized he was as bad as a kill
buyer, because he acknowledged how awful this place was and still
continued to bring horses here week after week.

Just before the start of the horse sale at 1 PM, we still had not
found No Day Off. I was having an anxiety attack from hell. I
kept thinking that somehow Baker had found out about us being at
the racetrack the day before, and had called his son and told him
not to bring any horses from Mountaineer Park to the auction.
Diana and I had recorded the tattoos of over 34 Thoroughbreds and
Standardbreds.

I called Gail and told her my fear. Gail suggested that we must
have missed her, or that Bakers son was running late. All I knew
was that the clock was ticking and without No Day Off, there
would be no HBO documentary.

Diana told me that she was going to go into the auction and
record the sale prices on the hip numbers we had tattoos on. I
told her to go ahead, I was going to sit at the unloading area
and wait for No Day Off. I was at my wits end, where the hell was
she? I begged God to help me. I started to leaf through the list
of tattoo numbers we had gotten, page after page. I kept staring
at the number Gail had given us for No Day Off, H19563 . I
flipped a page and saw the number M19563. "Wait a minute" I
thought to myself," what are the chances that two thoroughbreds
would have the same numbers with a different letter?" I then
realized that No Day Off was already at Sugarcreek and we knew
her hip number, 481!

I leapt to my feet and raced to the pens. I called Diana on my
cell and told her that No Day Off was hip #481 and we had to find
her. Diana answered me back that she had just watched #481 go
through the ring and sell to kill buyer, Fred Bauer. I called
Ryan and told him we knew that No Day Off was here. Diana met me
and we asked an employee where the Bauer pen was. We went to a
pen with about twenty horses in it. Most of them were
Thoroughbreds we had already identified, and then we saw her,
#481.

We walked in and quietly walked up to her. I held out a handful
of hay and she walked over. Diana slipped the grooming halter
over her head and we read her tattoo. H19563. Diana immediately
said she remembered reading this tattoo earlier because the
filly's gums were cut from the lip chain the day before. That was
why Diana had first read the H as a M. I told Diana to look at it
again, and then we led her over to the camerawoman so that she
could video the tattoo. We had our documentary.

And then , in an instant, reality sunk in. No Day Off was just
standing there. Diana and I were petting her and crying our eyes
out. We could not save her. She stood there waiting for us to
take her out of that horrible place, and the best we could do was
to lead her over to the hay manger so that she could eat hay
before she was loaded up for the trip to the slaughterhouse in
Canada.

Diana and I went back up on the catwalk and watched the sales
horses being run into the different kill buyer pens. It was at
this time Diana noticed Hip #81, the horse with the broken hock
,standing in a pen of horses that Baker had bought. Diana
couldn't believe they had run the horse through the auction in
that condition. Diana saw Dr. Reddick standing on the catwalk.
She went over to Reddick and asked her to please come look at
#81. Dr. Reddick tried to ignore Diana but Diana insisted that
Reddick come look at the horse.

From a distance of over twenty feet, Dr. Reddick told Diana that
as far as she was concerned, the horse was weight-bearing and
therefore, Reddick saw no reason the horse could not be
transported. Diana told Dr. Reddick that she was absolutely
wrong, and that the horse was non weight-bearing. Dr. Reddick
ended the conversation by telling Diana that Diana was entitled
to her opinion.

About this time Becky arrived and I told her what had been
happening. Becky told me she was going to try and buy one of the
ponies or horses that was in such poor shape they would never
survive the trip to slaughter. We walked to the back pen where
the worst horses were kept and we saw a chestnut mare lying on
the ground. We went into the pen and we saw that she was dying.
Her head was resting on the bottom rung of the gate, and her legs
were stretched out in front of her. She was barely breathing. She
was lying on a manure covered floor, surrounded by horses
destined for slaughter.
Once again we approached Dr. Reddick and asked her to intervene.
Once again she advised us it was not her job.

I went back to the pen where No Day Off was. Diana and I watched
as each horse was let out of the pen and briefly haltered while a
farrier removed the shoes from the Thoroughbreds. This is a
federal regulation requirement for all horses being transported
to slaughter. It is difficult to explain how distressing this is
to watch.

At this point I had to leave the auction. Diana had far more
courage than me. She stayed with the camera crew to video the
horses being loaded onto the trailers. Diana watched as No Day
Off slipped and crashed to the ground before being loaded onto a
trailer bound for the Canadian slaughterhouse. The cameras
continued rolling as the trailers pulled out of the Sugarcreek
parking lot.

Later, I ventured back into the auction to find out if Becky had
purchased any horses. I found her in a state of complete
distress. While waiting for Leroy Baker to give her a price on
one of the debilitated horses, she had witnessed him attempting
to lift the dying chestnut horse with a front end loader. The
horse was unable to stand, and Baker finally gave up.
Unfortunately, this despicable atrocity is not on video.

Five years ago I read the story of how a Kentucky Derby winner,
Ferdinand, was slaughtered for human consumption. No Day Off was
not a Derby winner. No Day Off was one of the thousands of
racehorses that nobody ever remembers.

I will remember No Day Off forever. I see her face every day. I
see her eyes every day looking deep into my soul asking me to
take her home. I wake up every day remembering the sacrifice she
made for all Thoroughbreds and horses so that Americans would
unite together and force our legislators to get off their
procrastinating soap boxes and pass the American Horse Slaughter
Prevention Act.

Many of you may despise me for not rescuing No Day Off. But if
you do not contact your Congressmen and Senators on her behalf,
you share in my complicity. No Day Off was sacrificed in an
attempt to show Americans that every aspect of the horse
slaughter industry is cruel, abusive, and minimal regulations are
not enforced.

The incomprehensible slaughter of Thoroughbred champion,
Ferdinand, sparked the effort to ban horse slaughter in the
United States. I pray that the equally incomprehensible and
unnecessary slaughter of No Day Off, will be the catalyst to
finally end the unconscionable slaughter of American horses.

Postscript: Remembering Those We Lost
by: Gail Vacca
I'm sure that I can safely speak for all of us who love horses
and who want to see an end to the atrocity that is horse
slaughter, in offering our profound gratitude to HBO for dragging
America's dirty little secret out from behind the dark shadows
and exposing the underbelly of the horse industry and its heinous
alliance with those who profit in the trade of horses for their
flesh.

I hope and pray that everyone who sees this documentary will join
forces and take action by demanding that Congress immediately
enact the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act (H.R.503 and
S.311).

I hope and pray that everyone who sees this documentary will
contact their local racetracks and the "powers that be" within
the Thoroughbred racing industry, and demand that every North
American racetrack immediately put into place a program to
protect injured and retiring racehorses from ending up at low-end
auctions and being exported to slaughter. The racing industry can
and must do better by its horses. The suffering and slaughter of
these incredible equine athletes must end at once.

I hope and pray that everyone who sees this documentary will
remember that each and every week while passage of the AHSPA is
delayed, thousands of U.S. horses will continue to be auctioned
off by the "pound" and will continue to be cruelly transported to
slaughter in Canada and Mexico. Time is of the essence. Let's end
this horrendous cruelty, once and for all.

The horses who were lost on April 18, 2008 in order that truth of
this hideous cruelty could be brought to light.

No Day Off: 2004 Dark bay or brown filly. Tattoo # H19563. 10
starts 0-0-3. Earned $3,993.00. Last raced, 4-12-08 at
Mountaineer Park for owner/trainer Ricardo Hernandez. No Day Off
was sent to slaughter via the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08, only
6 days after having not been able to finish in her last race. The
comment on her race record reads "gave way, eased upper stretch."
No Day Off's only crime was that she was too injured to race
competitively. No day off was bred by Jerome C. Burdick and was
foaled in Pennsylvania. No Day Off was slaughtered in a Canadian
horse slaughter plant in April of 2008 at only 4 years of age.

Balachour Prince: 2001 Bay gelding. Tattoo # E14092. 26 starts,
3-7-3. Earned $43,485.00. Last raced 4-12-08 at Mountaineer Park
for trainer, Bart Baird and owner, The Estate of Dale Baird.
Balachour Prince was sent to slaughter via the Sugarcreek Auction
on 4-18-08, only 6 days after his last race in which he finished
10th, beaten 151/2 lengths. The comment on his race record reads
"lost ground, tired."
Balachour Prince was bred by G.J. Collins Bloodstock and Holly
Collins and was foaled in Ontario, Canada. Balachour Prince was
slaughtered in April of 2008 at 7 years of age.

Crow Autumn: 2002 Dark bay or brown mare. Tattoo #F20759. 37
starts, 0-2-4. Earned $26,370.00. Last raced 4-12-08 at
Mountaineer Park for trainer Bart Baird and owner, The Estate of
Dale Baird. Crow Autumn was sent to slaughter via the Sugarcreek
Auction only 6 days after her last race in which she finished 7th
beaten 171/2 lengths. The comment on her chart reads, "in tight
start, tired." Crow Autumn was bred by JB Enterprises Inc., and
was foaled in California. Crow Autumn was slaughtered in April of
2008 at 6 years of age.

Arranged Marriage: 2004 bay filly. Tattoo # H27783. 6 starts,
0-1-2. Earned $18,897.00. Last raced
4-7-08 at Mountaineer Park for trainer Bart Baird, owner The
Estate of Dale Baird. Arranged Marriage was sent to slaughter via
the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08, only 11 days after her last
race which she did not finish. The comment on her chart reads
"bad step, vanned-off." Arranged Marriage was bred by
Bass/Seeligson Partnership and was foaled in California. Arranged
Marriage sold for $10,500 at the Barrett's Equine Limited 2007
Fall Mixed Sale. Arranged Marriage, clearly suffering from the
injuries sustained in her last race, was slaughtered in April of
2008, at merely 4 years of age.

Point of Attack: 2004 Dark bay or brown filly. Tattoo # H05614.
22 starts, 2-1-5. Earned $25,654.00. Last raced on 3-25-08 at
Mountaineer Park for trainer Penny L. Mathias, and owner, The
Estate of Dale Baird. Point of Attack was sold for slaughter via
the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08, only 25 days after her last
race in which she finished 6th beaten 11- 1/2 lengths. The
comment on her chart reads, " Rated pace, wore down.". Point of
Attack was bred by Point Break Partners and was foaled in
California. This daughter of Bertrando sold for $32,000 at the
Barrett's Equine Limited 2006 Mixed Sale. Point of Attack was
slaughtered in April of 2008 at only 4 years of age.

Explosive Light: 1991 Bay gelding. Tattoo # U00446. 16 starts
1-1-0. Earned $9,375.00. Explosive Light was a steeplechaser who
last raced in 1997. At the time he was last raced, he was trained
by F. B. Miller and owned by John H. Peace. Explosive Light was
bred by Fares Farm and was foaled in Kentucky. The well bred son
of Majestic Light (73) -- Explosive Tobin (86), by Explodent (69)
sold at the Keeneland September Yearling Sale in 1992 for
$220,000. Explosive Light was sold to slaughter via the
Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08 and was later that month
slaughtered at 17 years of age, following many years of service
to his human connections.

Emerald Crossing: 2002 Bay mare. Tattoo # F24713. 7 starts,
0-2-0. Earned $3,339.00. Emerald Crossing last raced on 3-8-06 at
Penn National where she finished 2nd, beaten only 1-3/4 lengths.
The comment on her chart reads, "3-wide, evenly stretch." At the
time of her last race, Emerald Crossing was trained by George R.
Albright and owned by Landslide Farm. Emerald Crossing was sold
to slaughter via the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08. Emerald
Crossing was bred by Redmond C. S. Finney and was foaled in
Maryland. Emerald Crossing was slaughtered in April of 2008, at 6
years of age.

Bohica: 2002 Bay mare. Tattoo # F34049. 34 starts, 3-7-3. Earned
$33,290.00. Bohica last raced 7-9-07 at Mountaineer Park for
owner/trainer Ashley J. Lewis, where she finished 9th, beaten
32-1/2 lengths. Bohica was sold to slaughter via the Sugarcreek
Auction on 4-18-08. Bohica was bred by F. W. Allen and was foaled
in Florida. Bohica was slaughtered in April of 2008, at 6 years
of age.

Another Passion: 2004 Bay filly. Tattoo #H14386. Starts 2, 1-0-0.
Earned $6,925.00. Another passion last raced on 6-17-06 for
trainer Art Sherman and owner Frederick J. Liebau, Sr. Another
Passion won her last race by 3 lengths. Another Passion was sold
to slaughter via the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08. Another
passion was bred by Janet Sexton and was foaled in California. In
January of 2008 Another Passion sold for $900.00 at the Barrett's
Equine Limited January 2008 Mixed Sale. Another Passion was
slaughtered in April of 2008 at only 4 years of age.

November News: 2003 Dark bay or brown gelding. Tattoo # G28014.
November News never raced. He was bred by Kathryn C. Schultz and
was foaled in Florida. November News was sold to slaughter via
the Sugarcreek Auction on 4-18-08. November News sold for $3,000
at the Ocala Breeder's Sales Company 2004 Winter Mixed Sale.
November News was slaughtered in April of 2008 at only 5 years of
age.

***Please note that Balachour Prince, Crow Autumn, Arranged
Marriage, and Point of Attack were all owned by the Estate of
Dale Baird. All but, Point of Attack (who was trained by Penny
Mathias) were trained by the late Dale Baird's son, Bart Baird.
Dale Baird has been heralded as the most winning trainer in US
history, winning over 9,000 races before his death in 2007. Baird
has been twice nominated for consideration by Racing's Hall of
Fame. Thankfully, he was denied entry both times. What a lot of
people didn´t know about Dale Baird was that while he was
no doubt America's winning-most trainer, he was also a man who
thought nothing of sending hundreds if not thousands of horses to
slaughter, once they were no longer of any use to him. He may
very well have been the trainer who in his lifetime sent more
horses to slaughter than any of his counterparts.
The sale of Balachour Prince, Crow Autumn, Arranged Marriage, and
Point of Attack to slaughter on April 18, 2008 proves that
despite Dale Baird's death, his legacy of cruelty and total
disregard for the welfare of horses, continues on with his son,
Bart Baird. The Baird family reign of equine cruelty must end.
Dale Baird must never again be considered for entry into racing's
Hall of Fame. To do so would be an insult to all true horsemen.
"Trainers" such as Dale and Bart Baird have no place among the
many fine horsemen within the racing industry, and they along
with others like them, should be banned from racing. ***

In memory of all the horses who have suffered the inhumanity of
man, and in honor of all who fight so hard to protect them, I
offer you this poem written by Lucille Matte and offered with our
heartfelt gratitude to all of you, who fight so hard to protect
horses.

A Letter from God about No Day Off

I want you all to know, I saw them hit her too.

I was standing right there by her, with every one of you.

Believe me when I tell you, it broke my heart in two and
It was then that I knew, exactly what to do.

That´s why I´m writing this letter, to try and
comfort you.

To let everyone know her treatment was not what I would choose.

I stood there next to her, as she tried to run away.

I told her that I loved her and she was coming with me that day.

So long before the sun went down, I took No Day Off home.

She is here with me in heaven and has miles of fields to roam.

Like all the other horses, that are here in heaven with me,
No Day Off is in paradise, she´s young and wild and free.

I want you all to know, I see you all each day.

I cry with you in anger and my heart breaks in the same way.

I love you all for trying, to save them one and all.

I want you to know I am here, to catch you if you fall.

I want you each to give to me, all the pain that this has caused
,
And trust me when I tell you, I will save them all without
pause.

I need you all to hold, your head up high and strong, and protect
those who need us, till you are all safe with me at home.

I love you!

God

Lucille Matte
April 25, 2008

Story of "The Sugarcreek Six"

How Luck and a Village Saved the Sugarcreek Six

by Anne Russek

The following is my account of how the Sugarcreek Six were saved from slaughter. It is a difficult story to tell, but all of you who helped contribute that day, and afterwards, deserve to know what a wonderful thing you did.

Several weeks ago I was contacted by an assistant producer of HBO who was considering doing a documentary showing the pipeline from the racetrack to slaughter. I offered to help in any way I could, and a tentative time frame was established. The project was focused on following specific horses from the track, to Sugarcreek Auction, and then to the border for transport to slaughter. The most difficult aspect of this investigation was that I did not know if I could endure the pain of documenting these horses knowing that I could not intervene in their rescue.


I drove to Mountaineer Park on Wednesday from my home in Virginia. I left at 2 AM so that I would arrive at Mountaineer during training hours on Thursday morning. Once I arrived, I was notified by phone that HBO had changed the schedule, and could not come, but since I was already there, I decided to conduct a trial run.


It is a well known fact at Mountaineer Park that Dick Rudibaugh is the "meat man" and picks horses up on Wednesday or Thursday. I arrived at the track around 8:30, which is break time, and spotted Rudibaughs truck and trailer parked outside of the stable area. I knew it was his rig because Becky Care, a former groom at the track, had given me lots of valuable information regarding the track to auction pipeline. I kept an eye on his truck while I wandered through the stable area, blending in with the morning training activities.
I feel it is important to note that the Mountaineer Park stable area is a dump. The barns are very long, with plastic nailed to the windows to keep out the winter air. The entire stable area is wall to wall asphalt, not a blade of grass anywhere. The horses actually cross a paved parking lot to get to the track. The barns are all in various stages of disrepair, broken windows, sagging roofs, makeshift "bridges" over drainage ditches so the help can get into the barns. The barns are long and the further you walk down the shed-row, the darker they are. The horses in the inner stalls have no view of the outside, and I imagine very poor ventilation. Most of the horses appear small because their stalls have not had any new dirt added to them in years , and the horses are standing in holes. The barns are cluttered with bales of hay and straw, and since several trainers share a barn, it is, for the most part, organized chaos.


Most of the horses I saw look very stressed. They are thin, dull coats, poorly groomed, and have the appearance of being over-raced. I feel qualified to offer this opinion because I have worked on the racetrack for over thirty years. The horses at Mountaineer are not indicative of horses at the better tracks. The lack of care and inept horsemanship is obvious everywhere. This is especially ironic because Mountaineer is a racetrack that has gaming. The slots and casino provide the horseman with increased purses, but it is obvious that management has spent no revenue from the gaming enterprise to improve the conditions for the horses or horsemen. It is also apparent that many trainers who are benefiting from increased purses are not spending any additional money on the care of their horses.


Around 9 AM I saw Rudibaugh get into his truck and pull around to the stable gate to enter the backside. There was no guard at the gate , and so Rudibaugh merely got out of his truck and opened the gate himself so that he could drive his truck and trailer in. Once inside, he slowly weaved his way between the barns to his first stop. He parked his rig and entered a barn. Shortly afterwards, he appeared following a groom who was leading a bay horse. (Cinema Star) Rudibaugh opened the back door of his step up stock trailer, and the horse loaded quite easily. Once inside the trailer, the horse appeared nervous because the stock trailer was very loud. Rudibaugh tied him sideways in the trailer.


Rudibaugh then drove to another barn and parked. This time he took longer. I heard pieces of his conversation with a groom. It seemed that there was some discussion about which horse was supposed to be picked up. The trainer had not bothered to show up to load the horse, and Rudibaugh said he knew it was a mare and that she had a fleece noseband on her halter. Rudibaugh and the groom entered into a barn, and came out leading a bay mare. (Elegant River) They loaded her onto the trailer with the gelding, once again the sound of her hooves on the metal floor was very loud. The gelding nickered at her nervously. Rudibaugh then drove out of the stable area and left.
(I had been told he keeps the horses at his farm overnight and then takes them to the auction on Friday, but that proved to not be the case. I did not learn that until my next trip one week later .)

I learned the identity of the two horses Rudibaugh had picked up by going to the stable gate and looking at the sign out sheet that every trailer driver must complete. Next to Rudibaughs name were the names of the two horses he had picked up. I called Gail Vacca, gave her the names, and she later phoned back with their race records and tatoo numbers. Cinema Star had been a very good racehorse. He had been claimed and reclaimed over ten times in his career, which means that he was a very popular horse. Elegant River was not fast at all, in fact she had never won a race. Horses that are too slow are usually sound because they don't run fast enough to hurt themselves.


Gail also told me at that time that she had been contacted by a trainer at Mountaineer Park who knew of a seven year old horse that another trainer had made arrangements for to be sent to Sugarcreek. His name was Kannapolis, and was supposedly a barn favorite with the nickname "Lurch" because he was so big. Gail told the trainer we would try and find him at the auction and rescue him if we were able.

I was very tired the night before the auction, but it was not easy to fall asleep. I had no idea what I was getting into, and I worried about finding Cinema, River and Kannapolis at the auction the next day.
At 6 am Becky met me and we drove her truck and trailer to the Sugarcreek Livestock Auction in Ohio. Becky wanted to arrive early so we would have plenty of time to see every horse as it arrived. We already knew that Leroy Baker( auction owner and known kill buyer) had a son who would be bringing the horses to the auction sometime before the sale started. This was when I figured out that Rudibaugh takes the horses directly from Mountaineer to Bakers farm which is about twenty miles from the racetrack, and 40 to fifty miles from the auction.


We arrived at Sugarcreek at around 8:30. The first thing I noticed was the double deck trailer owned by Baker parked in a corner of the empty lot. There were two or three Amish men sitting around the unloading area waiting for the horses to arrive. Becky and I passed by them to go into the auction, they didn't acknowledge us and I was more than happy to ignore them.


Before we went to see the handful of horses already there, Becky showed me the layout of the facility. The auction ring itself is very small. The horses are herded in one small door, a quick step or two past the auctioneer booth, and then a step or two out another door back into the holding pen area. A row of bleachers, amphitheater style, surrounds the ring. You can enter the auction ring area from the pens, or from the top row of bleachers.


There is an office area for registering to bid, you only need to show a drivers license. If you leave the office to go into the pen area, you are on a catwalk that runs the length of the holding pens. From the catwalk, you can see every pen. Becky and I walked the catwalk and then went downstairs to start looking at horses. It took me a while to figure out why certain horses were in certain pens. Any private horses, usually sound riding horses, were placed in private pens. All others were randomly distributed throughout the auction. There was no method to the madness. Some pens, as the day went on, would be packed with horses so tightly they could barely move. Other pens would have only a few horses in them. Some pens had hay and water, other pens had nothing. Even in the pens with hay, very few horses were eating. The main reason was that dominant horses refused to let any others near the mangers. Many of the horses appeared too shell shocked to even attempt to eat. I couldn't help but notice the way certain horses would group together as if they had formed a temporary herd to offer each other comfort. One group of yearlings was especially tragic. There were four of them, all chestnut, all very thin and with various degrees of snotty noses. They stood side by side, sometimes one of them would rest their head on the back of the other. They were so young, and so scared and I began to realize the hopelessness of how this day was destined to turn out. Their image, and the image of so many other horses that day, were permanently implanted into my memory.


Early on in the day, the weaker and sicker horses were very noticeable. There were many horses who obviously should never have been brought here. Some were very, very old. Others were very thin and very weak. It was impossible to imagine them being loaded onto a trailer and shipped thousands of miles to either Canada or Mexico. whoever had brought these horses to Sugarcreek, should have been charged with animal abuse.


The worse part of the day was the constant sounds of dominant horses kicking weaker horses. The Amish would put mares in heat in pens with geldings which would incite many battles. Any attempt by us to separate the fighting horses was useless because the Amish kept moving horses from pen to pen. Once off the catwalk, you must be very careful because at any moment, the Amish will open a gate and drive a herd of horses at you to get them to another area. The Amish do not" herd" the horses but rather they "run" them down the slippery aisle-ways into the pens.

Throughout the day I witnessed young Amish boys beating the horses with long whips, and kicking the horses repeatedly in the legs and stomachs if they showed the slightest hesitancy. This was especially apparent when they were trying to squeeze horses into already overcrowded pens. One young Amish boy was very aggressive with his feet. I had followed him while he was leading a horse to a pen, and when he attempted to put it in a corral that was already full, he proceeded to slap and kick the horse trying to force him in. The horse absolutely could not fit. I walked up to the boy while he was still kicking the horse and I asked him, " Were you born mean or did working in this place make you mean?". He stopped for a moment and gave me a blank stare, but he did take that horse back down the aisle to another pen with less horses.

The draft horses are very sad to see. For the most part, they appear to be in very good health with good weight. They truly are "gentle giants". They also seem to be targets of abuse from the Amish. I never noticed any of the drafts being anything but compliant, and yet they were smacked , yelled at, pushed and beaten into too small corrals. It was incredulous to see three giant drafts in a pen that measured maybe 10 X12.


Once when I was at the unloading area, a stock trailer pulled up with five drafts on it. They were all chestnuts with flaxen manes. They were truly beautiful. When the trailer door was opened, one of the Amish men would poke a lunge whip through the side slats of the trailer and start poking and hitting the horses to unload them. The drafts would not budge, it was as if they knew that their safety depended on them not leaving that trailer. The racket from their giant feet scrambling in the stock trailer was unbelievable.

The longer they delayed leaving the trailer, the more the Amish yelled, whistled and jeered. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that there is a sadistic look of pleasure on the faces of these men. Tormenting these animals is their pleasure. Finally one draft leaped off the trailer, followed by the others. They were driven down a short alleyway and then herded into a longer aisle-way that was gated at both ends. Then they were separated and placed into smaller corrals with other horses.


The ponies are another pitiful sight. For some reason I could never figure out, the trailers that arrived with the most horses crammed into them, always had the ponies stuffed in the front. Just when you would think that there was no way any more horses could possibly be on a certain trailer, one or two ponies would come running off. The ponies would be crammed into one pen, unless it was a stud pony.

These poor animals get the absolute worse of the auction experience. They are placed into very small, very tight, straight stalls. They absolutely cannot move. They may as well already be dead and packed as processed meat. They stand in these stalls for hours. It is impossible not to see the torment they are enduring in their eyes. I had the great misfortune of watching an Amish man kneel down next to one of the straight stalls, reach his hand through the board slats, grab hold of one ponies testicles and make a joke about their size to another Amish man.


As the day progressed, more trailers arrived. I spent quite a bit of time watching the offloading process. Trailers would pull up, the driver would walk to the head Amish attendant who would write down his name, ask him how many horses he had, what type, and if he had any colts. Then he would hand the driver a yellow slip of paper. The horses would get off the trailer. As they exited the trailer, one of the Amish would slap a hip numbers on each side of the horses rump.


If they had halters, the vet, Melissa Reddick, would draw their coggins immediately. If they did not have halters, the Amish would drive them into the long aisle-way corridors I described before. Since several different trailer loads of horses would be crammed into these aisle-ways, horses were constantly kicking each other and scrambling to find a safe place to stand. It is unnerving to watch this hour after hour.


It became apparent to me very quickly that most of the horses that got off the trailers did not have halters. This is because these horses are destined for slaughter. Without a halter, there is no way for a buyer to examine or look at that horse. Sugarcreek is not an auction for horses to find new homes, it is set up for the convenience of the kill buyer .

The next time someone from the pro slaughter side tells you that these are unwanted horses, don't believe them. These horses never have a chance to be re-homed. It is almost impossible to keep tabs on a horse once they come off the trailer. The Amish go out of their way to keep the horses moving so you cannot inspect them. Once they are in a loaded pen, you truly are at risk if you attempt to enter that pen.


After a few hours, Becky and I were focused on trying to find the three horses from Mountaineer. I was confident that Cinema Star and Elegant River had not arrived by 12 pm, but we had no way of knowing when Kannapolis may have arrived. All we knew was that a man named Langley would be bringing him. Becky and I went from pen to pen trying to identify the horses we thought looked like thoroughbreds. At one large crowded pen, I spotted a large bay that looked the part. Becky and I went into the pen, cautiously sliding between horses, anxious about getting our brains kicked in, until we reached the bay. Fortunately for us, he stood still and allowed us to lift his lip to read his tattoo. While in the pen, we read the tattoos of a few other horses. This is no easy job since the pens are quite dark. Becky read off a number while I wrote it down. We squeezed back through the horses and climbed out of the pen.


Once we were safe, I called Gail on my cell and gave her the numbers. About twenty minutes later Gail called back. She was very excited, " You found him, she shouted, you found Kannapolis!". Gail was surprised that I hadn't already known that since I had his tattoo number with me. The only explanation I can offer is that my mind was not functioning the way I am familiar with. The horror that was all around me was numbing.

There wasn't a single horse that wasn't experiencing their worse nightmare that day. The atmosphere was one of complete despair and sadness. Every horse I looked at reminded me of my past. The ponies reminded me of the time my father took me for my first pony ride. The grade horses reminded me of the many Saturdays I spent at a local "pay to ride" stable. The drafts reminded me of the Super-bowl commercial after 9/11 when the Budweiser horse kneeled in front of the Statue of Liberty. Every horse made me wonder who had loved them first , and who had been the last to betray them. I was in hell.


About the time Gail told us we had found Kannapolis, Rachel Paris and her mother Kathy showed up. Rachel is a beautiful young woman who has saved many horses from Sugarcreek over the years. I was very thankful that she had managed to come today and help us. I know now that without her help, this rescue would not have been possible.
Rachel quickly advised us that we needed to get Kannaplolis out of the crowded pen and move him into a single pen. I wondered how we would accomplish this since he did not have a halter. Rachel simply walked over to a pen and slipped the halter off another horse who still had his. I went back into the pen, haltered Kannapolis, and led him to the gate.( Fortunately he was very close to the gate at the time.) Rachel told us that anytime you found a horse you wanted to buy, you could put them in a smaller pen if you could find one not being used. She said it was common knowledge at the auction that if you found a horse you wanted, you would try and protect it from getting hurt by the other horses.


We placed Kannapolis in a pen by himself and I pulled some hay from a manger and gave it to him. Of course, other horses around him saw the hay so I went back and pulled more and gave it to those horses also. What a pathetic attempt on my part to make amends to these horses for what they were enduring.


Kannapolis was now in a pen that backed up to a pen that held a huge draft. The draft hung his big head into Kannapolis' pen in an attempt to make friends. Kannapolis was happy to oblige and soon they were grooming each other. It was a bittersweet moment because I knew that Kannapolis had a chance to be rescued, but the draft was doomed.

We continued to await the arrival of Bakers son with the thoroughbreds from Mountaineer. Rachel was convinced that the son would arrive shortly before the start of the horse sales at 1 pm. While we were waiting, we got the tattoos off several other thoroughbreds. One gray in particular was very striking. He was in the same pen that Kannapolis had been in, and he positioned himself in a corner that allowed him to hang his head into the aisle-way we were standing in. His eyes begged us to do something, and we got his tattoo and hip number. One woman actually asked one of the Amish to take him out of the pen so she could look at him and we hoped she would buy him.


We went back to the pen that had the four yearlings, they were still together, and we found several more thoroughbreds. We read their tattoos and phoned Gail. Rachel went to watch the trailers for Bakers son while I continued to pull hay for horses.


There was one pen that had some cows that had been leftover from Monday's livestock auction. I noticed a small brown calf laying by himself. I went into the pen to have a closer look. I touched him to see if he was alive, and he was barely breathing. I lay my hand on his head for a minute or so. I wanted him to feel the touch of someone who cared, I wanted to let him know I loved him even though he had no idea I was even there. I wanted him to forgive me. I wanted God to forgive me for not being able to stop the cruelty that was all around me. There is nothing more difficult than knowing you can only save a few from so many. I hated myself because I was not rich and could not save the animals that were here. I hated the people who had sent their horses here. I especially hated the pro slaughter groups who continue to fight against the AHSPA who have absolutely no idea how horrific these auctions are.

About this time I heard a lot of commotion coming from one of the aisle-ways packed with horses. I left my dying calf to investigate. I walked up to the noise and I saw Dr. Reddick and the Amish men attempting to draw blood for coggins from the horses that had no halters. The technique they used was absurd. Two Amish men would whip and drive the horses up and down the corridor until they were able to separate a single horse from the herd. Then they would beat that horse to the end of the pen where they would swing the gate around so as to pin the horse between the gate and the wall. Then Dr. Reddick would climb up the fence, reach over, and stick the horse with a needle to draw blood. Needless to say, the horses would either freeze in terror, or else they would try and leap over the gate. The more they struggled, the more they were beaten. Once the coggins was drawn, the horse was let out of that pen and herded into another overcrowded pen. This process in insanity was repeated over and over for fifty or more horses.

Just before the horse auction was about to start, I was back at the unloading area. A trailer pulled in and I immediately noticed that all the horses on the trailer already had hip numbers on. I mentioned this to a man standing next to me and he told me that this trailer belonged to the auction owners son. I now knew our trailer had arrived. The trailer door swung open , but none of the horses came off. An Amish man started poking the horses through the side of the trailer, but they still wouldn't get off. I walked to the back of the trailer and when I looked in I saw the problem. The trailer was very dirty, covered in cow shit. Although the trailer could easily hold six to eight horses, all of the five horses had been crammed into the front of the trailer behind a gate. The gate had a door opening in the middle, which appeared to be designed for a person to walk through. The Amish were beating the horses to make them go through the opening single file, but because they were packed together so tightly, they could not maneuver themselves to get through the opening. Finally one thoroughbred got through, and then Cinema. When Cinema got to the edge of the drop off, he stopped, and then I saw Elegant River squeeze through the door . When Cinema saw that it was her, they jumped off the trailer together. It was as if they were watching each others back.

Because they had no halters, they were herded into a pen closest to the auction ring. We immediately tried to get their tattoos but they couldn't stand still because the Amish kept moving them back and forth in the pen. They were absolutely in a panic about where they were. While trying to get their tattoos, another vet I had not seen all day, informed me I needed to get out of the pen because he needed to draw blood. I told him that I needed to get a tattoo. I won. We confirmed that Cinema Star and Elegant River had arrived at Sugarcreek. Shortly after, Cinema Star and Elegant River were forced to endure the "gate" method for drawing coggins. Cinema Star was trying his best not to leave Rivers side but eventually he was beaten into the "gate trap". After all the blood was drawn, one man put River in one pen and shut the gate before Cinema could get back to her. I was going to intervene but then the Amish man turned his back to Cinema to open the gate for a different horse to get in the pen and Cinema seized the window of opportunity and slipped into the pen with River. It was amazing to witness.


I called Gail and told her that the three horses were here and the auction was ready to start. Gail said that the money was there for Kannapolis, Cinema Star and Elegant River, but she was going to try and get additional funds to rescue a few others. I went into the auction and was surprised that within minutes, the horses brought to the auction by Bakers son were the first ones in the ring. When Cinema Star was being let in, he hesitated at the door. Despite being hit, he refused to come into the ring alone and sure enough, Elegant river bust through the door with him and they were auctioned off at the same time. The bidding process takes less than thirty seconds. Kill buyers rule. They are allowed to stand on the auction floor when the horses pass through, and the auctioneer keeps eye contact with them. Fortunately Rachel was able to bid against the kill buyers, and she purchased both Cinema and River.


At this point I was emotionally and physically finished. I was elated beyond words that Cinema and River were rescued. Gail had called Rachel and told her that an anonymous donor had pledged enough money to save three more horses.


I walked outside the auction and called Gail. I thanked her profusely and told her I was going to leave and start my six hour journey home. I did not want to watch the horses being loaded into the trailers of the kill buyers. I had had enough.
About an hour into my trip, Gail called and gave me the good news, six horses had been saved, including the gray gelding. I told Gail she had done a wonderful thing, and that everyone who had pledged would never know what a remarkably wonderful deed they had done. And then I cried. I told Gail that I was completely demoralized. I told her that I was sure I would never recover from this ordeal. I told her that if I had ever really realized what happens at auctions, every week, year after year, I would not tolerate the fact that the AHSPA has not been passed.


I implore all of you who have supported the AHSPA for many years to please find the energy and the resolve to do everything you can to push for the passage of this bill. You must never feel that you have already done enough and that it is out of your hands. We must force our legislators to pass this bill. The pipeline to slaughter that our horses endure is beyond despicable. It is under-regulated and under the radar. The kill buyers operate with total disregard for any federal laws and take pleasure in the abuse of our horses. If you ever wondered about the Serenity prayer and what it meant, trust me , horse slaughter is something you can change, it is not an issue you should accept.


If every horse at every auction across the country had one voice willing to speak up for them, we could pass this bill. Please be that voice for that one horse ,standing alone , waiting to be slaughtered.

What Milk?

I didn't see any milk! I don't know what you're talking about!






Picture Taken by "Pepper" of the "Flying Hooves 4-H Club".

Dead Moose In The Pasture!

Warning! Graphic pictures! Not for the weak stomach!

Today, I went out to the pasture and found a dead moose. It's left ear had been torn out and it's innards were scattered around the body. What sort of creature would do this? Are the horses in danger? Again, not for the people with a weak stomach, you have been warned.

Something to think about

More dead and starving horses found

If you believe that by closing the slaughterhouses, means we will have more cases of starvation, abuse and neglect, please click on the link above. The case happened in Canada, where slaughterhouses are still open. This is the second such case in a month there in that area of Canada. 100 starving horses were seized and 27 found dead.

Our newest Guest

This little darling is 4 weeks old and an orphan. I haven't named her, because she's not staying! (I say that every day at least 20 times) But she is too cute for words!

Farm Swap Virginia

We are heading for a recession, a bad one. There is a new yahoo group designed for people to help each other out in their communities. The idea behind the group is for people to swap out items they either grow or raise. For example, you grow vegetables and are over run with tomatoes, but would really like to have some fresh eggs, well, swap them! Click below to visit the group or you can join with the button on the right side of the blog.

Farm Swap-Va

He's A Killer!

Don't worry, it's only Moe with his stuffed Bear, having a romp! Everyone is enjoying the spring weather!

Angels from Above come to help!

Ok, so maybe they aren't actually "Angels from above", but to me, they were heaven sent! These three ladies are from the "Flying Hooves 4-H club" and came out to spend the day mucking stalls. I am very grateful for their help!

The Happy Appy Charity

We have a site online now that we are using to sell things to benefit the rescue. The site is Happy Appy Charity

It's not an auction, it's more like an online yard sale. 100% of all the proceeds go towards helping the rescue horses here at our farm.

Items will be added daily, so be sure to bookmark it and visit often! The horses thank you!

An Excellent Reason To Be A Volunteer!

Want to beat the odds at getting lung cancer? According to the article below, exposing yourself to manure everyday helps keep you from getting lung cancer! So come on out to the farm and muck a few stalls twice a week! It'll not only help you beat lung cancer, but it will help you get fit too!

Article from Daily Telegraph.

WORKING with manure can drastically reduce chances of developing lung cancer, scientists have discovered.

Dairy farmers are five times less likely than the general populace to develop the disease, New Scientist magazine reports.

The study found farmers typically breathed in dust that consisted largely of dried manure, and all the bacteria that grew in it.

New Scientist said adults who had a greater exposure to germs than usual might build up a better resistance to bugs, including cancer.

"Some researchers are starting to wonder whether the higher incidence of certain cancers in affluent populations - including breast cancer, lymphoma and melanoma - might also have something to do with sanitised, infection-free living," the researchers said, noting the unexpected links between exposure to dirt and germs and cancer risk.

"If they're right, the implications are huge. If we can understand exactly what it is about some germs that has a protective effect, we should be able to reduce people's risk of developing certain tumours later in life by exposing them to harmless microbes."

Invasion of The Llamas!

Today, three Llamas came cruising down the driveway. They belong to a neighbor and had escaped. We spent about an hour rounding them up and herding them into a paddock until we could contact the owner.


Tom, our Vice President, promptly fell in love with the Llamas and is shown, in the first picture above, trying to coax a hug from one of them.

It's Official, Virginia has some weird weather

Last week we had 75 degree weather, then 50 mph winds, then it dropped to freezing and we had an ice storm. This morning, snow. I think I'm going to start wintering somewhere other than Va!

Give a Valentine-Help A Horse!

We are very pleased that we have been selected by the Flying Hooves 4H
Club to participate in their Valentine's Day Fundraiser! The wonderful
folks at Heartland Feed & Supply are helping to get the word out.
Can't you think of someone who'd love to receive one of these
Valentines, help feed the horses and support the 4H, all at the same
time?

We deeply appreciate these efforts to help our horses. The information
below describes the Fundraiser, and more about it can be found on the
Heartland web site at : www.heartlandfs.com For everyone who has not
been by for a visit, either in person at the store in Farmville, VA or
via cyberspace, please stop in and visit Jennifer and have a look
around at all of the really fun stuff they have. The information on
the Valentine's Day Fundariser is below.

Jorg

"For our friends in the Farmville/Charlotte Courthouse, Virginia ,
area, you can give your special someone a Valentine to show them how
much they mean to you.

For our friends around the country, we invite you to donate a
Valentine to the rescued horses at
White Bird Appaloosa Rescue

Each Valentine will consist of your message and a special treat
for a person, horse, dog or cat.

Cost: $4.00, 50% goes to White Bird Appaloosa Rescue
Checks accepted - Please make checks payable to: Flying Hooves 4-H
Donations can be sent to us here at:
Heartland Feed & Supply
2113 West 3rd Street
Farmville Va 23901
434-315-5755
heartlandfeedsupply @yahoo.com
www.heartlandfs. com

Must be received by Febuary 8, 2008
Delivery will be February 13-14, 2008

Thank you from the horses at White Bird Appaloosa Rescue"

Heartland Feed & Supply
2113 West 3rd Street
Farmville Va 23901
434-315-5755
heartlandfeedsupply @yahoo.com

Volunteers Needed!

Do you like horses? Are you over 18 years old? Come and sign up to be a volunteer with us! We need all different talents. If you have it, bring it!

Click Here if you'd like to volunteer.