Post by Swede on Feb 19, 2008 17:32:07 GMT -5
Name: Cochise
Age: 2 years
Breed: Mustang/QH/NF/Welsh/Arab/Breton
Height: 14.3 hh
Eyes: Brown
Color: Chestnut tobiano (ee/aa/nTo/Zz)
Gender: male
Markings: Scars on legs, burn on left flank
History:
It was a starry night, warmed by a gentle breeze. A loose cluster of horses dozed in a paddock. The barn was unusually quiet, in contrast to daytime when it bustled with happy human kids and friendly ponies.
A lonely figure detached itself from the hills. The stallion- a sort of brownish bay- scented the air. No humans. Good. He trotted closer, up to the pasture fence, and the horses inside eyed him warily. For over an hour, he circled, before he found the place to enter- someone had looped the chain through the gate, but never clipped it on. It took just a push. All of the school horses fled to a far corner. All but one; Dolly, the fearless grey favorite of the students. she knew. He had come for her; she wasn't about to deny him. It was near dawn when he left.
"Bad news, ma'am: she's got one in the oven." The woman passed a hand over her face. The vet was right, no doubt; but how? her thoughts flicked back to spring, when the gate had been found wide open. Mustangs had been sighted in the area recently. Put two and two together, and- "Dammit." The decision was made that Dolly would be kept at a friend's house, and when the foal reached six months, it would be sold and she would be put back to work. Which is what happened. The colt was called "Baby" by the humans, but his mother named him Cochise, after the stallion who had romanced her nearly a year ago. But our colt doesn't know that. His new owners loved the cute foal. But they knew nothing about training a headstrong yearling. He was auctioned off for $200, $100 more than the glue factory. And so, he came to "the place".
The little girl giggled. "He's so cute! Look, he's tagging after Sassy." The baby donkey was following the Quarter mare around the pasture. Horses were cool. Baby donkeys were cute. The family, innocent and care-free, now had both. They knew enough so that Sassy and Milo the donkey were well cared for. In all other aspects, they were both ignorant and stupid. They did not consider that baby donkeys turn into grown up donkeys. They forgot that Milo would act like the male animal he was. They did not realize he would see no difference between Sassy and a lady donkey. Hopefully, you are smarter than they were, and can understand the mystery of how a year after Milo grew up, Cougar the mule was born. Now, this was more than the family had bargained for. by the time Cougar was three, the novelty had worn off and the group was sold. Cougar went to a tourist place, where he lugged city slickers across the wild West to scenic landscapes, then back to the real-deal ranch (only 45 minutes from the airport!). He plowed through this for eight years, before the ranch went out of business. He was sold. for $200. To "the place".
"Allergy medicine. 4th dose. It's that horse, and the mule." There was a bright white light,
and men in stark white coats. Sometimes a dog barked, but generally the only thing that
broke the silence was a moan, and the furious scribbling of pen on paper. Death hung
in the air. The man approached the makeshift stall, ignoring the sullen mule next door.
His attention was focused on the shaking pinto before him. "Augh! He's kicking, Boss. Again.
Should I sedate him?" "No. It'll skew the results. Remember what happened to the old one."
The old one; the one hidden beneath the desert outside. "John, if he doesn't settle down, you know what to do. It won't kill him." Even if it did, there were many others to be gotten cheap. The horse was disposable; so was the mule, the dogs, the rabbits, all of them. The man- John- walked back to the stall, accompanied by a coworker. The pinto shied, but the white-coated man clucked and cooed. "Here, boy, it's ok, come here, you stupid beast, I won't hurt you, I'm just distracting you." Cochise pricked his ears. It was a friendly voice; he did not understand the words, but the tone was comforting. He stepped closer, and trembled as a hand brushed his muzzle soothingly. So desperate for love and warmth, he did not see the second man to the side. Cougar did, and snorted a warning, but it was too late; all Cochise saw was a dull metallic flash, before his legs buckled, his body hit the floor, and the lab was filled with screams of agony. A needle plunged into his neck, and then into the mule's. cougar did not move; a failed test had left his joints prone to stiffness, and on some days like this one he could not move them at all. Several hours later, the researchers administered the drug and observed results. The first injection was an irritant; this new one was a prototype allergy medicine. Horse and mule, horse on his side with bandaged legs, both were coughing blood. "Not working too well. Back to the drawing board."
3 Months Later
Karen slumped on the couch and flicked on the news. A reporter was standing in front of a giant shed, while truckloads of animals passed. "…The lab was built illegally, and the government only just discovered it. The animals will be placed at the Humane Society for now." It broke into commercials. Karen turned to the computer, and searched the TV station's website. Something was bothering her. One of the trucks? Then she clicked one a photo, and dropped her coffee. "Oh my God." Beth, her sister and co-owner of the riding school, walked in. "What?" "Look at that." "Poor things!" "No, no, you don't get it. See the markings? It's dolly's baby." Karen knew she could not take back Cochise. She was racked with guilt. Finally, after 5 months, she called. "Humane Society here." "I'm Karen, calling about the pinto colt from that raid a while back." There was a pause. "The one with the mule? The mule went crazy. Busted a hole in the fence and took off. Colt followed. They've been gone couple weeks." Karen hung up slowly. Beth patted her shoulder. "Remember- he's got a mustang dad and Dolly for a mom. And he's living with a mule. He'll be fine."
All told, Cougar was a lab rat for 5 years, and Cochise for one. Neat, even scars line he pint's legs where his tendons were slashed to stop his kicking. You can't tell by looking at him, but he is almost completely blind in his right eye. An old burn resides on his right flank. The experiments impeded his growth, leaving him 2 inches shorter than he should be. Both of them have breathing issues, but Cougar's is worse. The mule has bad joints, and a few smaller scars. But it is worst inside- a slow poison is spreading through his body, a hidden cancer.
Cochise is skittish and nervous, and stammers. At an age where most young stallions have mares on their minds, he is too busy surviving one more day. "Stallion" is the last word you associate with him- he is such only in a biological sense. He is a purebred mutt, and would normally be plain; thanks to an illegal animal testing lab in the desert, he is downright ugly. Cougar's just a mule, stubborn and irritable. The lab made him more cynical than most, and the only thing he cares about is Cochise, whom he feels a duty to protect. As a mule, he never has and never will raise a family. Cochise and Cougar have only each other, in this world. For now, ends meet. But their lives have hung by a thread for years. At any moment, Fate may whip out the scissors and cut that thread.
------------------------
Cougar died soon after their escape to freedom. Heartbroken, Cochise wandered until he stumbled upon King's herd in Rainbow Ridge. There, he gradually fell in love with the beautiful Orchid, his goddess. But convinced that he isn't good enough for her, he still has trouble confessing these feelings freely. The pair eventually claimed land of their own in the desert, but were ousted by a larger herd. They still remain there, on the outskirts of that herd, and may perhaps one day form a family of their own- provided Cochise can work up the courage.
Age: 2 years
Breed: Mustang/QH/NF/Welsh/Arab/Breton
Height: 14.3 hh
Eyes: Brown
Color: Chestnut tobiano (ee/aa/nTo/Zz)
Gender: male
Markings: Scars on legs, burn on left flank
History:
Both are mistakes, never intended to exist. One was born of ignorance,
the other of carelessness. Fate tried to set things right, and kill them.
She may yet succeed.
the other of carelessness. Fate tried to set things right, and kill them.
She may yet succeed.
It was a starry night, warmed by a gentle breeze. A loose cluster of horses dozed in a paddock. The barn was unusually quiet, in contrast to daytime when it bustled with happy human kids and friendly ponies.
A lonely figure detached itself from the hills. The stallion- a sort of brownish bay- scented the air. No humans. Good. He trotted closer, up to the pasture fence, and the horses inside eyed him warily. For over an hour, he circled, before he found the place to enter- someone had looped the chain through the gate, but never clipped it on. It took just a push. All of the school horses fled to a far corner. All but one; Dolly, the fearless grey favorite of the students. she knew. He had come for her; she wasn't about to deny him. It was near dawn when he left.
"Bad news, ma'am: she's got one in the oven." The woman passed a hand over her face. The vet was right, no doubt; but how? her thoughts flicked back to spring, when the gate had been found wide open. Mustangs had been sighted in the area recently. Put two and two together, and- "Dammit." The decision was made that Dolly would be kept at a friend's house, and when the foal reached six months, it would be sold and she would be put back to work. Which is what happened. The colt was called "Baby" by the humans, but his mother named him Cochise, after the stallion who had romanced her nearly a year ago. But our colt doesn't know that. His new owners loved the cute foal. But they knew nothing about training a headstrong yearling. He was auctioned off for $200, $100 more than the glue factory. And so, he came to "the place".
The little girl giggled. "He's so cute! Look, he's tagging after Sassy." The baby donkey was following the Quarter mare around the pasture. Horses were cool. Baby donkeys were cute. The family, innocent and care-free, now had both. They knew enough so that Sassy and Milo the donkey were well cared for. In all other aspects, they were both ignorant and stupid. They did not consider that baby donkeys turn into grown up donkeys. They forgot that Milo would act like the male animal he was. They did not realize he would see no difference between Sassy and a lady donkey. Hopefully, you are smarter than they were, and can understand the mystery of how a year after Milo grew up, Cougar the mule was born. Now, this was more than the family had bargained for. by the time Cougar was three, the novelty had worn off and the group was sold. Cougar went to a tourist place, where he lugged city slickers across the wild West to scenic landscapes, then back to the real-deal ranch (only 45 minutes from the airport!). He plowed through this for eight years, before the ranch went out of business. He was sold. for $200. To "the place".
"Allergy medicine. 4th dose. It's that horse, and the mule." There was a bright white light,
and men in stark white coats. Sometimes a dog barked, but generally the only thing that
broke the silence was a moan, and the furious scribbling of pen on paper. Death hung
in the air. The man approached the makeshift stall, ignoring the sullen mule next door.
His attention was focused on the shaking pinto before him. "Augh! He's kicking, Boss. Again.
Should I sedate him?" "No. It'll skew the results. Remember what happened to the old one."
The old one; the one hidden beneath the desert outside. "John, if he doesn't settle down, you know what to do. It won't kill him." Even if it did, there were many others to be gotten cheap. The horse was disposable; so was the mule, the dogs, the rabbits, all of them. The man- John- walked back to the stall, accompanied by a coworker. The pinto shied, but the white-coated man clucked and cooed. "Here, boy, it's ok, come here, you stupid beast, I won't hurt you, I'm just distracting you." Cochise pricked his ears. It was a friendly voice; he did not understand the words, but the tone was comforting. He stepped closer, and trembled as a hand brushed his muzzle soothingly. So desperate for love and warmth, he did not see the second man to the side. Cougar did, and snorted a warning, but it was too late; all Cochise saw was a dull metallic flash, before his legs buckled, his body hit the floor, and the lab was filled with screams of agony. A needle plunged into his neck, and then into the mule's. cougar did not move; a failed test had left his joints prone to stiffness, and on some days like this one he could not move them at all. Several hours later, the researchers administered the drug and observed results. The first injection was an irritant; this new one was a prototype allergy medicine. Horse and mule, horse on his side with bandaged legs, both were coughing blood. "Not working too well. Back to the drawing board."
3 Months Later
Karen slumped on the couch and flicked on the news. A reporter was standing in front of a giant shed, while truckloads of animals passed. "…The lab was built illegally, and the government only just discovered it. The animals will be placed at the Humane Society for now." It broke into commercials. Karen turned to the computer, and searched the TV station's website. Something was bothering her. One of the trucks? Then she clicked one a photo, and dropped her coffee. "Oh my God." Beth, her sister and co-owner of the riding school, walked in. "What?" "Look at that." "Poor things!" "No, no, you don't get it. See the markings? It's dolly's baby." Karen knew she could not take back Cochise. She was racked with guilt. Finally, after 5 months, she called. "Humane Society here." "I'm Karen, calling about the pinto colt from that raid a while back." There was a pause. "The one with the mule? The mule went crazy. Busted a hole in the fence and took off. Colt followed. They've been gone couple weeks." Karen hung up slowly. Beth patted her shoulder. "Remember- he's got a mustang dad and Dolly for a mom. And he's living with a mule. He'll be fine."
All told, Cougar was a lab rat for 5 years, and Cochise for one. Neat, even scars line he pint's legs where his tendons were slashed to stop his kicking. You can't tell by looking at him, but he is almost completely blind in his right eye. An old burn resides on his right flank. The experiments impeded his growth, leaving him 2 inches shorter than he should be. Both of them have breathing issues, but Cougar's is worse. The mule has bad joints, and a few smaller scars. But it is worst inside- a slow poison is spreading through his body, a hidden cancer.
Cochise is skittish and nervous, and stammers. At an age where most young stallions have mares on their minds, he is too busy surviving one more day. "Stallion" is the last word you associate with him- he is such only in a biological sense. He is a purebred mutt, and would normally be plain; thanks to an illegal animal testing lab in the desert, he is downright ugly. Cougar's just a mule, stubborn and irritable. The lab made him more cynical than most, and the only thing he cares about is Cochise, whom he feels a duty to protect. As a mule, he never has and never will raise a family. Cochise and Cougar have only each other, in this world. For now, ends meet. But their lives have hung by a thread for years. At any moment, Fate may whip out the scissors and cut that thread.
------------------------
Cougar died soon after their escape to freedom. Heartbroken, Cochise wandered until he stumbled upon King's herd in Rainbow Ridge. There, he gradually fell in love with the beautiful Orchid, his goddess. But convinced that he isn't good enough for her, he still has trouble confessing these feelings freely. The pair eventually claimed land of their own in the desert, but were ousted by a larger herd. They still remain there, on the outskirts of that herd, and may perhaps one day form a family of their own- provided Cochise can work up the courage.
