The story of foxtrot, a hero
“Tell us a story Granny!”
“Ok dears this ones about a horse…”
I was only a weanling when they took her, 7 months old.
My name is Foxtrot, I am a quarter Clydesdale, and three quarters thoroughbred. This story is about the monsters that sent my mother away.
“Whoa there, steady now, easy.” Spoke the men.
“No mum no you can’t go!” I said panicked.
“Foxy I have to if you want to live I have to.”She said. My mother was brave unlike me. She was willing to sacrifice her life to let me live. But I couldn’t just let her leave.
I flattened my ears as far back as they would go then… I attacked. I lunged at the humans, my teeth bared.
“Out they way!” bellowed one human. His buddy was too slow, he got a kick in the shins. I continued lashing, biting, and kicking until I looked over my shoulder. The big metal boat had arrived and they were loading my mother onto the ramp. Dread filled me as I called out but she couldn’t hear me. Little did I know, that would be the last time I saw my mother.
Two years later…
I was only two and had almost forgotten the day they took my mother. Almost. I had been broken in and was grazing silently, when mistress came up to me and threw her arms around me and sobbed. “He’s gone Foxy he’s gone. She’s still alive but he’s gone.” I didn’t know what these words meant but I knew she was upset. I nuzzled her hair and nickered softly. She then left and as she walked I saw her stuff a piece of yellow, that they call paper into her pocket.
1919 October the day the horses returned…
Again with the metal boat. This time a bay horse stepped out. She freaked. Rearing, kicking, and bucking. But I recognized her smell. My mother was the bay horse. I tore the rope out of mistress’s hand and ran to meet her. But something wasn’t right. “The bangs, shouting men, awful cold. Must break free, must run, LET ME GO!!!”On the last word she broke free. “MUM. MOTHER IT’S ME FOXTROT... mum.”
I took the opportunity on the ride home to talk to her, but she kept mumbling. I tried in the paddock but no such luck. Old Joe the Shetland said to leave her be but I refused to listen. How could I. She wouldn’t eat she wouldn’t sleep I couldn’t just leave her!
Then one day I woke up and she was gone. I looked down the hill. No mum. I looked behind the bushes. Not even a hoof print. I looked in the shed. Only Old Joe. I undid the gate with my teeth, then swiftly cantered up to the big house. “Hello does anyone know where my mum is. HELLOOOOOO.” I called frantically. After what seemed like ages mistresses two-legged colt came out. He slipped on my halter and took me to a strange field I had never seen before. I was astonished at what I saw. My mother, had a harness on attached to a plough. And she was eating out of a feeding bag. My eyes brimmed with tears as I trotted over to her. “Mum?” I said shakily. “Foxtrot my darling, you were the one who made me realize I can live. Not the humans you. You are a hero.”
“And that my dears is the story of Foxtrot, a hero amongst horses.”
“Read us another one granny!”