Quincy: A very long road...

From Jim: I know I've told you a number of times that I am constantly learning about the equines that surround us. Sometimes the lessons are small and subtle. Other times, the insights are profound. Quincy was one of the latter. When we got him, he had been through a number of failed adoptions. He had been seized by another county's animal control and placed at another sanctuary. He was the most abused animal we've had. He had been beaten with ropes, chains, boards, wire-you name it. He was covered with scars and sweenies. His hock had been broken from being tripped by a rope and pulled off his feet. As horrible as his physical injuries were, his psychological wounds were far worse. He would shudder and shake when touched. He was in fear ALL OF THE TIME. Quincy is a Quarab-cross of Arabian and Quarterhorse. He inherited a mind that was naturally trusting and quiet. The abuse he was given was a complete betrayal of the careful breeding that gave him a desire to be with our kind. He was shattered. Everyone that had tried to adopt him, gave up because he was unreachable. They had followed the conventional wisdom-round pen, lots of attention, efforts to desensitize him from his fears. Quincy couldn't get across the abyss that had been caused from his horrible abuse. When we took him, we went at it very differently. We put him a herd and let him relearn how to just be a horse. We figured he wouldn't do too well with our kind until he was OK with his own kind. One year, two years, three years passed. I asked only that he put his nose on my outstretched hand. This was always done when he was at liberty. It was his choice alone. No pens, no restraints, no ropes-just Quincy and me. Slowly, he began to stretch his neck toward my hand and eventually made very brief, tentative contact. He would recoil back-eyes wide, head up, ready to wheel and run. We caught him up only for vet care. Put him a stall, sometimes took an hour to quietly get a halter on him. Funny thing was, one haltered, he was a perfect gentleman, even in his state of near panic. That quiet peaceful mind was in there still. Well, the years have passed and Quincy now gets petted regularly, expects it. He catches you and wants attention. He has defeated his demons. He still carries scars, but not as many. His hock is huge and always will be, but it works fine. He can get spooked, but not much more that any other horse. His eyes are soft and gentle. He has a place in the lower herd and many friends. His days are good. He's at peace and in good health. His resilience, and will to get well, his capacity to move on and make a good life, his unwillingness to feel sorry for himself, his loving peaceful ways-There's some lessons! Quincy will live out his life with us. He's home, at last. He has helped make this Home At Last. His lessons to us have helped us deal with other critters. He has enriched our lives. He's a good boy.