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Rumspringa Amish Draft Rescue, Elizabeth, CO (2026)

05/18/2026

We thought we were going to lose LaFawnduh Friday night.

Friday morning, when I fed the horses, all was well. She came up with everyone else and had breakfast, and I went off to work.

When I got home that night, however, LaFawnduh was absent.

Call her a lot of things, but NEVER LATE FOR DINNER.

I went out to see her in the pasture. She's had a tree-trunk leg since she arrived here. I initially feared when I brought her home 2 years ago that it was cellulitis. However, Dr. Marion checked her out right away and assured me, "Well, that's just the way she is. It probably started out as cellulitis, but now the tissues in her leg are just stretched out."

And I tend to trust the guy.

Regardless, I've watched that leg over the last two years, always waiting for the other (horse)shoe to drop. With a leg like that, I'm always worried about her compromised circulation leading to God-only-knows.

And Friday night, we finally had GOD ONLY KNOWS.

She had NO desire to eat, and she couldn't really bear weight on that leg. We took her to the front pasture to isolate her from the others, and that short 8 yards took easily 10 minutes as she gimped along.

We immediately called the vet, DEARLY HOPING it'd be a Dr. Marion on-call sort of night. Any other vet would have looked at her leg and likely freaked out. Fortunately, it was a Dr. Marion night, and since he knew her leg was like that before, well... It spared us from possible drama and awkward questions.

I'd taken her temp while we waited for him to arrive, and got 99.7. Her heart rate was 88, which is pretty crackin' for a girl her size.

He got here about 10pm. The poor guy had already gone to two other emergencies. By that time, he got a temp of 102.7 on her. However, there weren't any spots of obvious infection really going on. There were two tiny punctures I found when I clipped a small area on her leg while we waited for the vet, but it wasn't a snake bite. There was no bruising around those little marks, fortunately. Granted, I've only seen rattlesnake bites on dogs, so what in the heck do I know about horses getting bit? Dr. Marion reassured me it wasn't that.

He felt her leg, and she didn't mind anything being touched, but she couldn't put any meaningful weight down on that hoof.

I was really afraid the recommendation was going to be to put her down. Again, I know that leg is a ticking time bomb. And, yeah, I know I get them here for a good time, not a long time.

But here's the kick in the nuts: Since all that Biscuits went through last month, LaFawnduh has really and truly become her best friend. They'll share a hay bag, they'll try to stick their heads in a feed bucket together. This is the first time since Biscuits arrived that she's actually gotten this close to another horse. This week was the first time I ever saw Biscuits participate in mutual grooming with another horse.

And LaFawnduh...well, she arrived already best friends with Alfie. Since he passed away last year, she's kinda third-wheeled it with Butters and Carrots, but... Well, she's not one of the cool kids, according to Butters and Carrots. The freakin' jock and the popular girl item are sometimes kinda dicks to the other horses.
..but she had previously been drawn to little brown horses like Alfie, and Biscuits fit that bill.

The thought that poor Biscuits, who just went through HELL, only to finally get back to being a normal horse and making BFFs with LaFawnduh only to possibly now lose her buddy?

I mean, COME ON.

I expect the universe to generally s**t on me. It kinda always has, but what in the hell could poor Biscuits have done to warrant that crap? While Butters might constantly commit war crimes, Biscuits doesn't!

And LaFawnduh is kinda special to me. She's just kinda a goofy old lady... She has weird quirks. She's a fence licker. When she thinks no one is watching, she's apt to play in the water trough and splash everywhere. I dunno, there's just something endearing when I see an old horse that never probably got much play time throughout their lives give into the intrusive thoughts and get silly.

So, yeah, I was worried and not ready to go through something awful again so soon.

However, Dr. Marion did his thing and contemplated the situation.

"Well, why don't we just try giving her some pain medication, some antibiotics, do a sweat-wrap, and see what she's doing by tomorrow morning?" he asks.

Hell yeah.

So, he dosed her up, wrapped her in a stunning green bandage, and left us to our devices. We put Biscuits in the front pasture with LaFawnduh, as she stood at the gate, worried about her sister. And heck, I think LaFawnduh felt so icky that she probably wanted the company of her buddy.

I didn't sleep at all Friday night. I was terrified I was going to wake up to find her worse or not improved, however...

I was pleasantly surprised to open the front door to see LaFawnduh not only up, but having moved from where we'd left her the night before.

"YOU DIDN'T PUT HER ON STALL REST WHEN SHE WASN'T SOUND?"

Okay, horse ladies, don't come at me! I don't really ever want to do stall rest on her. With her leg as it is, leaving her confined just invites even worse swelling in her mystery leg. Getting her stocked up because she can't move isn't going to help the fact she's stocked up, m'kay?

And yeah, she was still limping along, but she was doing so VOLUNTARILY, and immediately took her self up to where she gets her breakfast.

And she ATE. She ATE A LOT. Which was pretty good, because the fact she'd refused food the night before was honestly pretty concerning. She's just a food motivated gal. We vibe.

So, Dr. Marion started her on some bute for the next few days, and had me take the wrap off that very morning. By that evening. LaFawnduh cruised up for dinner pretty much at her "normal" gait and speed.

He said we'll see how she's doing come Tuesday. We may have just dodged a bullet, though I'm not completely letting my guard down yet. But, I'll take any improvement, and one as dramatic as we've had in the last two days?

Dang.

Hopefully, she's back to normal come Thursday. Christopher is going to get her hooves into some sort of shape, as well as Carrots'. They need it pretty bad, as their hooves to go pot in about a quarter of the time it takes Butters and Biscuits hooves to even start looking a little wonky. And, it never fails I have to seek vet care when those hooves are super gross. I'm sure I look like the most neglectful horse owner in the world... except for all the medications, treatments, special feed regimens to get weight onto skinny horses, and always saying "YES!" to whatever the vet recommends.

Draft hooves are weird, regardless. I suppose all those years of work and simply supporting two-thousand pounds (plus) of weight is hard on those feeties. Especially for someone who pulled carriages on paved roads throughout her career like LaFawnduh. There were peoples' lives literally in her hand....hooves. The fence licker was dragging people in wooden carriages through downtown traffic. She is pretty chill, though. Not a lot spooks her. I can't say that for some of the others. She's been there, done that. She's seen what goes down on the 16th Street Mall. She's worldly and wise.
..she's probably seen a few naked, screaming humans in her day.

But nothing beats licking the fence after you've finished your senior food every night while you wait for your hay bag.

Sorry about the backlit picture. I'm sure my photography teacher's ghost is screaming at me. Actually, he might still be alive. I dunno. Anyway, that's her mid-stride, proving her mobility as of Saturday morning. Back lit or not, she is kinda just a black void out in the pasture. So, all you usually do see is just a shape. A horse shape.
A LaFawnduh shape.

05/04/2026

I've been quiet. I'm still processing it all. I don't want that baby forgotten, though. So, here's a picture of her with Biscuits, not too long after she was born. I haven't even really looked at this picture, because each time I try, I honestly can't. I know I've said it before, but this was the worst animal-related thing I've ever been through. The guilt I feel for not being able to find another foal for Biscuits makes it just that much worse.

04/28/2026

Well, no real news today. Biscuits and LaFawnduh have gone back to hanging out together now that Biscuits has rejoined our little herd. I'm quietly giving up on finding an orphan foal for her. She's acting pretty normal, and her milk engorgement seems to be fading.

Anyway, here's a saw horse I saw today who seemed really happy with his situation.

04/26/2026

I wonder why it's hard to keep paint on the barn walls?

04/26/2026

Biscuits says she's doing okay. Even wanted to take a selfie.

04/23/2026

I'm going to try to be diplomatic here, but I have some stuff I kinda need to get out after all that's happened this week and some of the s**t that has been said to me.

First off, for all those who cared and commiserated, God love y'all. I appreciated all of it, and so did Biscuits, but she isn't allowed to use Facebook. She's hell on a keyboard.

For those who were...well, for those of you Biscuits has said she isn't going to write thank you notes for...there might be tidbits sprinkled throughout what comes next that might strike a nerve. I don't mean to offend in what I'm going to say, but it's the truth, and sometimes the truth sucks.

And sometimes people are VERY unaware of the words actually coming out of their mouths or...keyboards. Especially in sensitive times after something tragic has happened. Especially when they live in a world where money means YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT.

We're not having luck finding an orphan foal to bring home. The only contacts we had wanted Biscuits taken to their places, and relocating a horse that's already been relocated a billion times in her life isn't fair. She was promised she'd never be dropped off "somewhere else" ever again.

But I was assured ALL these places were definitely way nicer and better than our crappy little ranch. We should definitely give them our mare. Yeah, I bet by facility standards alone, they probably are nicer places. But how much attention is each horse on that giant ranch actually getting every day? If you have more horses than hours in a day, I have a pretty good idea it ain't much.

I've seen the panic in Biscuits eyes when we just take her in the trailer to go to Dr. Marion's place or CSU. LEAVE HER SOMEWHERE ELSE and let her watch us just disappear? I can't. She is one of those very human-centered horses. She's gotten to where she trusts us after being here for almost a year. I'm not leaving her with strangers.

These horses come to us with a lot of trauma. Yep, I bet you are an awesome trainer, but I've worked with nothing but horses with pretty bad histories. In the year Biscuits has been here, I've learned all her quirks. Leaving her with strangers who don't know any of her quirks while they also try to protect their "investment" by using my mare as their foal's life support system...? I've seen the way "trainers" deal with certain behaviors demonstrated by severely stressed horses. Pro Tip: Those horses do not respond favorably to a lot of those old cowboy methods of bullying your horses into submission. If I EVER saw someone strike my horse, well, it was self-defense, Officer.

"I don't train that way!"

Okay. Maybe you don't. Then again, how messed up was the most messed-up horse you ever got? People making "valuable" horses don't usually end up with the horse on the bottom of the slaughter list, do they?

"Well, they were sent to slaughter for a reason!"

Yeah. How many foals were born at your place this year? Are you aware 25,000 unwanted horses took their final vacation on the Mexican Riviera last year?

"Mexican Riviera? That sounds nice..."

r/whoosh

Sure, until the "trocador" stabs you between the shoulder blades until you're paralyzed. I'll spare you what happens next.

And yeah, I understand you paid more for the stud fee to make that foal that you believe my mare is worth. So why won't I just HAND HER OVER? WHY AM I SO SELFISH?

Because I'm invested in Biscuits. She's not a commodity. She our family member. She already got to play the foal factory role for some horse production facility. I'm sure it was a big, beautiful, fancy -pants ranch, too.

I've been in the animal world a long time. There are a lot of AMAZING people...and there are a lot of people who are not. It's not that I don't trust an individual, it's that I no longer really trust anyone until I've known them a LONG time.
..even then, I'm watching you.

"Well, if it was YOUR foal that needed a mare, would YOU let some stranger take it?"

Honestly? A hard no.

"But YOUR foal had no REAL value! Sire unknown, dam with no provable lineage. YOU didn't PAY for YOUR horse to get pregnant!"

Correct. Because I don't breed horses. People over breeding horses is EXACTLY why I exist as a rescue, but I repeat myself. Again. Wait, I'll surely do it a forth time before we're done!

I guess that means we're at an impasse, unless a mare dies at CSU and leaves a foal behind the owners don't want to mess with raising. I don't want that to happen. If it does, it does, but I'm not sitting here wishing for the phone to ring to find out another poor mare didn't make it.

Biscuits was lucky. My vet was here within an hour of our foal's birth. Was yours? Again, sometimes small is better.

As much as I'd like to see Biscuits raise a baby, moving her and bringing up her stress and separation anxiety isn't going to help that process. She fought hard to heal her own body while trying to also grow that poor baby. Frankly, we're lucky we didn't lose Biscuits, too. When she arrived here last May, she was the sickest horse we'd ever taken in. I wasn't sure she was even going to survive her first week here. The fact she did and managed to go through all she did this weekend? Dang.

This is a small rescue. That apparently makes our place unsuitable to raise a foal. That was a lovely shoot down to get after already going through losing Biscuits' foal. Sorry we're not a super high-class World Champion producing ranch. Our intake numbers are small. Most years, we have none. I assure you, I understand the concept of quarantine better than you. A foal would likely be exposed to less here than on a vast ranch where you don't have any idea what wildlife has crossed the back 40.

I'm not ashamed of what I've built here. I'm sorry I wasn't bestowed with Daddy's or Hubby's dinero. I build things here myself. Me. Personally.

We interact with all our horses every day. I stood in the kitchen this morning, able to watch all four of them before I ever went outside. I know whats happening here with EVERYONE. Hell, even when I'm not here, I have cameras up. Sometimes, it's actually OKAY to be a small operation where animals can get one-on-one attention. When something goes wrong here, I know instantly. I don't have to wait for a hand to come back in at lunch to tell me someone is down a mile away from the house. Shoot, my horse will probably be with Dr. Marion getting fixed up before you're aware what's happening to yours.

I know exactly how much each of my horses eat a day. Because I have only a few. I don't drop a round bale a half mile from the house once a week and call it good. I can tell you exactly who's had what, because I fill all those hay bags and feed buckets myself, and I pay attention to what's going into who.

I sort of felt less than after some of the words I heard this past week and from different people. That was kinda the s**ts. I guess y'all can gather that from this post. I'm sorry I'm living in destitute poverty according to the fancy ranch types.

At the end of the day, Biscuits doesn't need a foal to keep on going. A foal needs a mare to raise it so it doesn't turn into a holy terror. But, yeah, I know some people put a lot of money into making a foal. I'd be worried about that kind of investment, too...if I bred horses. Which, to reiterate because I want this in some people's heads, I don't, and won't. Biscuits came to us in her condition. The overproduction of horses is why rescues like mine exist. Hello? McFly?

However, Biscuits felt a little better today. Actually came over to say hi to me when I went out this morning, and came to see me again when I got home.

If we don't find a baby by this weekend, we'll just let her be.

Anyway, here's a picture of her half asleep as she got bored with watching me in the front yard.

"OMG IS THAT HIGH TENSILE WIRE!? SOMEONE NEEDS TO ARREST YOU!"

Good lord, calm thine t**s. Notice the mesh on the INSIDE of the fence? Notice the hot tape at the top? Notice that the wire on the OUTSIDE has been connected to break away under pressure? NOTICE THAT ISN'T THE FOAL-SAFE PASTURE I SPENT ALL WINTER PUTTING A NEW FENCE AROUND?! A foal-safe pasture I'll not get to use now. Big girls get to go into the big girl pastures.

And Biscuits is the littlest big girl there ever was.

04/20/2026

Still seeking orphaned foal for Biscuits to nurse.

04/19/2026

If anyone has an orphan foal, we have a nurse mare who would be a very good momma.

04/19/2026

It is done.

The good: Biscuits is okay. She did what she had to do, and she is physically all right.

However, she and her foal were facing dicey odds. How anemic and sick she was when we saved her was just a little too much for her baby. The foal had skeletal deformities that were simply insurmountable. A horse missing bones in its joints is not a horse who can survive. Trying to keep the foal alive would've been painful and cruel. She didn't have a long life, but I loved her as much as possible just the same.
I promised Biscuits no one would take this baby from her...but I couldn't stop nature's unfair swing and miss.
To hell with the slaughter sales, kill buyers, and those who starve horses until they end up on death's door. We saved Biscuits.
We couldn't save poor little April.
I'm sorry, baby.
You had the best equine veterinarian I've ever known who was with us last night and through this morning. There's just some things we cannot fix.
It wasn't your fault.
It's not fair.
Biscuits will be okay. As Dr. Marion said, horses live in the moment. She'll grieve, but she'll be okay.
I've always been at a weird sort of peace understanding my role as an end-of-life caretaker of these animals. I spare them the horrific death they would've endured in a slaughterhouse.
I never thought I'd see a life start here. I can't believe how short it was before it ended.
If Biscuits hadn't come here, she would've met that fate. Because she was here, that baby at least got to see the sunrise this morning. I know she did. I was there.

Rumspringa Amish Draft Rescue

05/18/2026

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04/28/2026

04/26/2026

04/26/2026

04/23/2026

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