Thank you for saving Brysia!
Stareńka Brysia is already with us, on our farm, where she was taken care of immediately. He already has his own, comfortable and dry box lined with fresh straw and aromatic hay to nibble. We will do everything we can to make her feel at home with us from the very beginning. So that she looks to the future clearly and knows that nothing is happening to her anymore.
On behalf of Brysia, we thank you with all our hearts!
The story of Brysia.
Brysia is staring at the lens with her huge eyes. As if there, in this lens in my hands, there was a rescue for her and her world. Because her world has been sentenced. Although some might say that there is nothing to save. Because Brysia is not only old, but also more twisted than you could believe. But you don’t have to believe. You can be an eyewitness. You can get to know the Brysia world. And look into her big eyes.
Brysia has a history different from that of many horses that have stood on the brink. Because Brysia was not unwanted, and although she had worn out, she was given a roof over her head and a full manger to the very end. However, life writes different scenarios. For Brysia, fate predicted the ending, which unceremoniously concerns 30,000 horses a year.
Brysia had a wonderful home. Oh, few horses do. Not so that rich, but a true home, where she woke up and fell asleep, it was never rich. But it was ok somehow. A small country house, a cowshed, a large field, the wind in the mane and the ground under the hooves. And she was loved. She was born there and lived her entire life there. The first gallops, snowy winters that we no longer remember, and hot summers that have been hitting Poland for several years. Brysia had her trees, she had the green of the grass and the rustle of trees in the nearby forests, the paths of which she trampled, pulling a wagon with branches and wood with her owner whistling classic tunes.
Days, months, years passed. Her temples turned silver. Her spine sagged a bit. When the disease deformed her legs, still nobody got rid of her, still nobody chased her down the gangplank. Although the livestock trader lived just outside the fence. And Brysia, from behind her wooden fence, watched the dozens of horses being loaded all day with whips in the air and the shouts of their hosts. She was more fortunate. Her host wanted Brysia to live out her days in her cowshed, a place where she had lived everything she had lived through here. After all, he had promised her that.
However, fate mocked Brysia, and also mocked her old owner. The old man fell seriously ill, and recently the disease also came for his wife. And Brysia’s life hung more and more on the thread. Cancer, however, does not offer too many choices.
It is true that no one got rid of Brysia, but the elderly couple began to look for a better place for their old horse . Perhaps I will surprise you, but nobody wanted to buy it.
One day everything changed, the fairy tale was gone. The hope was gone. Health ran out. And strength too. The decision was being made for a long time. Until finally it was reached. Nobody had the strength to get up anymore, there was no money for basic needs. With tears in his eyes, the elderly owner led his Brysia out that morning. She walked slowly up the gangplank, humbly, full of trust. How could she know. She couldn’t see these tears.
A day passed. Maybe two. Maybe a week. We meet Brysia at the traders. He called himself. Not that he felt sorry for the horse. The grief of the host. Of course, he had promised the old man that he would not sell the mare to the slaughter, although he intended to do so.
When his conscience was eating him up, he called us. He told the story of old Brysia. He promised to wait a while while we collected the money.
This is what happens in the world of old people and their old horses. One day you just dont have say on anything. One day old horses leave their farms, some unwanted, some beloved. If only we could, we would help Brysia live her last days among the people who loved her the most in the world.
But we don’t have that power.
However, we can save at least a scrap of her world. Maybe Brysia will find forest paths with us before she leaves .. maybe she will go away before she leaves, bask in the sun and nibble on some more juicy grass. Perhaps, when you visit us, you will see her lying in the summer under the shade of a huge oak tree, where her days will pass. And then, when she passes across the Rainbow Bridge, it will be a proof that fate depends on us, that we do have influence. Because old Brysia could close her big eyes among many survivors. And among those who love her.