Shepherd Farm

We have a permanent resident at The Grand Illusion Horse Rescue named Oaka.  She came to us in the Fall of 2004 from Canada as a 22 year old mare who had been discarded from a PMU farm.  A PMU mare is a mare used in the production of premarin – a menopause drug for women.   Life is wretched for a PMU mare.  The PMU mares are typically confined to small standing stalls 24-7 from September thru May.  While in the stalls, the mares’ urine is collected for use in the premarin product.  The mares are kept pregnant every year of their lives because a pregnant mare’s urine (hence PMU) has a higher concentration of estrogen which is needed for the premarin drug.  The PMU mares are sent out to pasture from mid-May thru August to foal out and to get reimpregnated for the next year.  If a mare cannot get pregnant, she is often sent to slaughter.

In their lives, PMU mares have little positive human interaction, their hoofs are rarely trimmed, their foalings are not attended, and they do not learn to lead or to be ridden.

When Oaka came to our Rescue, she was clearly the product of two hard decades on the PMU lines.  When I first saw Oaka standing at the back of the old stock trailer that transported her from Canada, my heart sank.  She was checked out, depressed and exhausted from the trip.  She just stood in the back of the trailer, head hanging, eyes glazed.  When I moved toward her, she shyed away, she turned away from me to face the corner of the trailer  – not to kick or strike out – simply to hide away.  When she turned away, I noticed a large gash on her side that looked fairly new.  I expected that it would be challenging for us to care for the wound if she was afraid to let us near her.

Though challenging, we loaded Oaka onto our trailer and brought her home.  That first month with Oaka was difficult.  She would not let us near her.  We could not clip a lead rope to her halter and could not adequately clean her gash.   So, we hosed her gash down from about 15 feet away and put antibiotics in her feed to ward off infection from the injury.  For that first month, Oaka stayed in a small paddock by herself.  She also retreated in fear from equine companionship.  Whenever I fed Oaka, I called her name, figuring tha she would learn to associate me with food – always a good thing.  In that first month, Oaka’s world was very limited.  Since she did not trust people or other horses, she stood alone, back to the world – until one day she decided to open up.

Two years later, Oaka was a social participant in farm life.  She had learned to trust people – even to like people, and all the positive attention.  She had learned to trust other horses and had found a comfortable spot in the herd where she could share a hay pile with a friend, groom and be groomed, and stand with the herd under the shade tree.

Sadly, in that same year, two years after Oaka came to us, she began to lose her sight from uveitis. We could not stop the progression of the disease that turned the lights off on her world.  In about nine months from its onset, Oaka went blind in both eyes.  For a very brief period, maybe one week, when Oaka first sensed that she was losing her sight, she became fearful once again.  Her blind eyes opened so wide in fear and trepidation.  But, we worked gently and patiently with Oaka through this time.  Again, we called her name when we brought food into her stall so that she knew that we were coming.  We called to her in the pasture so that she knew when it was time to come into the barn at night.  We also got Oaka’s pasture mate a bell so that she could hear Lidia Mae as she moved around the pasture. 

Today, Oaka enjoys people and horses even though she has been blind for three years.  She loves to be groomed and fed and spoken to softly.  Oaka’s life is so much richer and more connected now that she trusts the important forces in her life – people and other horses.  Trust was the bridge that changed everything for her.  Oaka no longer retreats with her head hung low to the back of the stall, but now moves with purpose to the stall door to greet us – even if she does so guardedly to avoid any obstacles that she cannot see – but now does not fear.