Post by Swede on May 15, 2010 16:02:03 GMT -5
Name: Bagheera
Age: 8 years
Breed: Swedish Warmblood
Height: 16.1 hh
Colour: Black
Eye Color: Deep hazel
Gender: Mare
Markings: Star + snip, jagged scar running from center of chest to point of left shoulder, various smaller scars
History: She was born in southern Sweden, at the prestigious national stud located there. Her sister had been exported to America, and when those owners learned that another foal of the same lines had been born, they immediately put in an offer. Thus, as a two year old, Bagheera was sent to another continent, to join her sister in an elite string of competition horses. She was put into training, and eagerly awaited her first show.
This came along in a midwinter just a few months before her fourth birthday. Three horses were loaded into the trailer- Bagheera, her sister, and an older gelding who was a good friend of the mares. Bagheera would only be doing a simple dressage test for young horses, to get her introduced to the show environment, while her companions would compete on the higher echelons. She was unbearably excited for the trip. Her first show!
But they never got there. The lonely road was glazed with black ice. The car lost traction, and violently slid off the road into a ravine. The car burst into flames; the fine metal frame of the trailer shattered. Bagheera experienced pain like nothing she’d experienced before, as a shard of metal embedded itself deep into her chest, shrapnel attacking her body, flames licking at her coat. Her consciousness faded into darkness, and she was convinced that she was going to die.
Bagheera survived. She woke up in a veterinary hospital, heavily bandaged and drugged. Months passed before she could return to her own stables. The old faces were still there, her pasture mates and barn neighbors- but wait- where was her sister? And the grey gelding? The other horses pointed towards a lonely tree in one of the far pastures, the grave marker of the gelding whose neck was broken in the original tumble into the ravine. As for her sister, none could say. The humans had followed a trail of blood and ash into the snow, before the tracks were obliterated by the growing blizzard. No creature could survive such weather without shelter; certainly not one as badly injured as her sister would have been. And of the two humans in the car, the father and daughter of the family of owners, only the daughter had survived the crash.
Bagheera was deeply grieved by these losses. But at least she was able to resume competing again, in her fifth spring when she had healed enough. She was able to progress through the classes, beginning with jumping as well and low-level eventing. But soon the old tragedy began to haunt her again; the scar tissue in her shoulder made her gait too stiff for extended trots. Even a proper leg-yield was difficult for her. And once the jumps became higher than two, maybe three feet, she was unable to lift her front legs enough to clear the fences, requiring her to jump much higher than necessary and exhausting her halfway through the course.
Though she had a heart of gold and a will of steel, and did her very best to please them, her owners realized that any high-level competition would just gradually wear down the mare. They did the right thing and let her retire from competition. They mused over what to do with her, and after having a vet give the go-ahead, decided to breed her so that she could at least pass on her good genetics, as she would have been a very good showhorse if not for her injuries.
Thus Bagheera gave birth to a little colt when she was six years old, who pleased the owners to no end. She raised him lovingly and dutifully, and was proud as any mother when he was judged good enough to keep. Like any mare, she was somewhat upset when he was taken away to be weaned, but soon got over it. That was how Bagheera was; always a positive outlook and a determination to overcome all troubles. She was bred again, but did not conceive and was barren into her seventh year. By then the economy had dipped, and though the owners were well-off enough to be able to keep the horses, they wisely chose to save money by not breeding any of the mares that year. Unfortunately, this left Bagheera with little to do; she was ridden, but only trail rides or easy training in the arena to keep her in condition and entertained for a couple of hours. Otherwise, she just loafed around in the pasture. This suited the other broodmares just fine, but Bagheera was too restless. She started breaking out, just for fun; figuring out how to unlatch the paddock gate, or slipping out when someone’s back was turned for a moment. She never went far, just prancing around the stableyard for a little while as the humans tried to catch her. It was her source of entertainment; she didn’t actually want to run away. But then they put a padlock on the gate, and kept a close eye on her in the barn. The fun ended.
Or did it? One day she galloped towards the pasture fence and jumped over it. It was a good jump, for the most part, and she would have made it had it not been for her stiff front legs hanging too low, catching on the top board and knocking her to the ground. Bagheera was mostly unharmed, apart from a few bruises, but the owners realized that this just wasn’t going to work. They did not have the time to ride her enough when she could not keep up with the elite showhorses in the barn; they would not be breeding for a few years to save money, and even if they suddenly found spare cash they had several other quality broodmares. They tried to sell her to a good home where she would be exercised and kept busy, but no one wanted such a scarred, disabled mare.
At last, the owners were at the end of their rope. The daughter suggested turning Bagheera loose, and letting her try fending for herself; even if it was tough, the mare would like it more than being stuck doing nothing here. The mother and son of the human family refused. It was too dangerous for the mare, and Bagheera was too valuable. But one day, those two left for a local show, while the daughter stayed home, feigning sick. Making sure they were gone, she slipped out to the pasture, catching Bagheera easily. Then she led her deep into the forest, gave her a smack with the lead rope, and sent her off into the wild with tears in her eyes.
Bagheera loved the human girl, but this was an opportunity she couldn’t miss. She took off, eager to explore the wild and discover the perks of her new-found freedom.
Age: 8 years
Breed: Swedish Warmblood
Height: 16.1 hh
Colour: Black
Eye Color: Deep hazel
Gender: Mare
Markings: Star + snip, jagged scar running from center of chest to point of left shoulder, various smaller scars
History: She was born in southern Sweden, at the prestigious national stud located there. Her sister had been exported to America, and when those owners learned that another foal of the same lines had been born, they immediately put in an offer. Thus, as a two year old, Bagheera was sent to another continent, to join her sister in an elite string of competition horses. She was put into training, and eagerly awaited her first show.
This came along in a midwinter just a few months before her fourth birthday. Three horses were loaded into the trailer- Bagheera, her sister, and an older gelding who was a good friend of the mares. Bagheera would only be doing a simple dressage test for young horses, to get her introduced to the show environment, while her companions would compete on the higher echelons. She was unbearably excited for the trip. Her first show!
But they never got there. The lonely road was glazed with black ice. The car lost traction, and violently slid off the road into a ravine. The car burst into flames; the fine metal frame of the trailer shattered. Bagheera experienced pain like nothing she’d experienced before, as a shard of metal embedded itself deep into her chest, shrapnel attacking her body, flames licking at her coat. Her consciousness faded into darkness, and she was convinced that she was going to die.
Bagheera survived. She woke up in a veterinary hospital, heavily bandaged and drugged. Months passed before she could return to her own stables. The old faces were still there, her pasture mates and barn neighbors- but wait- where was her sister? And the grey gelding? The other horses pointed towards a lonely tree in one of the far pastures, the grave marker of the gelding whose neck was broken in the original tumble into the ravine. As for her sister, none could say. The humans had followed a trail of blood and ash into the snow, before the tracks were obliterated by the growing blizzard. No creature could survive such weather without shelter; certainly not one as badly injured as her sister would have been. And of the two humans in the car, the father and daughter of the family of owners, only the daughter had survived the crash.
Bagheera was deeply grieved by these losses. But at least she was able to resume competing again, in her fifth spring when she had healed enough. She was able to progress through the classes, beginning with jumping as well and low-level eventing. But soon the old tragedy began to haunt her again; the scar tissue in her shoulder made her gait too stiff for extended trots. Even a proper leg-yield was difficult for her. And once the jumps became higher than two, maybe three feet, she was unable to lift her front legs enough to clear the fences, requiring her to jump much higher than necessary and exhausting her halfway through the course.
Though she had a heart of gold and a will of steel, and did her very best to please them, her owners realized that any high-level competition would just gradually wear down the mare. They did the right thing and let her retire from competition. They mused over what to do with her, and after having a vet give the go-ahead, decided to breed her so that she could at least pass on her good genetics, as she would have been a very good showhorse if not for her injuries.
Thus Bagheera gave birth to a little colt when she was six years old, who pleased the owners to no end. She raised him lovingly and dutifully, and was proud as any mother when he was judged good enough to keep. Like any mare, she was somewhat upset when he was taken away to be weaned, but soon got over it. That was how Bagheera was; always a positive outlook and a determination to overcome all troubles. She was bred again, but did not conceive and was barren into her seventh year. By then the economy had dipped, and though the owners were well-off enough to be able to keep the horses, they wisely chose to save money by not breeding any of the mares that year. Unfortunately, this left Bagheera with little to do; she was ridden, but only trail rides or easy training in the arena to keep her in condition and entertained for a couple of hours. Otherwise, she just loafed around in the pasture. This suited the other broodmares just fine, but Bagheera was too restless. She started breaking out, just for fun; figuring out how to unlatch the paddock gate, or slipping out when someone’s back was turned for a moment. She never went far, just prancing around the stableyard for a little while as the humans tried to catch her. It was her source of entertainment; she didn’t actually want to run away. But then they put a padlock on the gate, and kept a close eye on her in the barn. The fun ended.
Or did it? One day she galloped towards the pasture fence and jumped over it. It was a good jump, for the most part, and she would have made it had it not been for her stiff front legs hanging too low, catching on the top board and knocking her to the ground. Bagheera was mostly unharmed, apart from a few bruises, but the owners realized that this just wasn’t going to work. They did not have the time to ride her enough when she could not keep up with the elite showhorses in the barn; they would not be breeding for a few years to save money, and even if they suddenly found spare cash they had several other quality broodmares. They tried to sell her to a good home where she would be exercised and kept busy, but no one wanted such a scarred, disabled mare.
At last, the owners were at the end of their rope. The daughter suggested turning Bagheera loose, and letting her try fending for herself; even if it was tough, the mare would like it more than being stuck doing nothing here. The mother and son of the human family refused. It was too dangerous for the mare, and Bagheera was too valuable. But one day, those two left for a local show, while the daughter stayed home, feigning sick. Making sure they were gone, she slipped out to the pasture, catching Bagheera easily. Then she led her deep into the forest, gave her a smack with the lead rope, and sent her off into the wild with tears in her eyes.
Bagheera loved the human girl, but this was an opportunity she couldn’t miss. She took off, eager to explore the wild and discover the perks of her new-found freedom.
