Harmonia

My name is Harmonia, and I’m safe now. I live with 9 friends from my old home, and so many others that I can’t count. All of us are lucky to have made it here, our lives could have ended up so different or been cut short so early. 

My friends and I are what they call ‘thoroughbred’ horses. It usually means we’ve been brought into existence to be raced for money. But we’ve been created by people who have no intention of looking after us if we’re not profitable. And when we’re not profitable, they let us know. Imagine what it would be like to rely on someone for care who doesn’t think you’re worth it. That’s what happened to me. 

It happens gradually. The humans come twice a day, then once, then every other day, until you can’t remember the last time you saw them. My skin itched with lice and my hooves grew and bent, making it hard to walk up and down as I searched for the last bits of greenery I could forage. Some days the hunger pains in my stomach felt like they were shooting straight through my body like spears. My body was so weak I felt like the wind could blow me over. One day I closed my eyes, and I was sure it was for the last time. But when I opened them again, I saw them. 

They had come for us, the rescuers. They took us out of there, to safety. They didn’t know if we’d make it, but they gave everything they had to try and save us. My friend Solo died, and Calypso lost her baby. But then Electra gave birth to a beautiful foal, Echo, and we believed in life again. We fought for it. We won. More of our friends joined us. We were a herd again, but a happy, healthy, thriving one this time. 

I nearly starved to death alongside my friends, all because the people who brought me into the world thought I was disposable. They cast me aside to make room in their paddocks for more profitable horses. I wasn’t worth the cost of a bag of feed or a bale of hay to them. I lost my friends who deserved to live. Thousands of thoroughbred horses like me are born every year to be raced, but so many won’t make it to a racecourse, and rescuers like those who saved me are overwhelmed by the number of them needing homes. Their lives are just as under threat as those who risk life and limb on the track. Despite the pain, I know I’m one of the few lucky ones. 

My name is Harmonia. I am someone.