Meet Fiołka and her big, dark eyes. She had a good life. I will not lie. Not so eminently good. But bearable for a country horse. She bore foals, like on a conveyor belt. What she gave birth to, they took away in a moment. Nobody thought it would be a drama – nobody suspected the horse could have feelings. Fiołka worked under the children, tolerated jerks, patting and screams. Such a standard on a national scale in many centers. She had her own 2m2 in a rural barn, in a small agritourism farm. It’s not much. But when it was high season, she was rarely there anyway. At that time, she worked three jobs. Because in the town where she led her life, there were plenty of tourists. When summer was hot, crowds of entertainment enthusiasts swarmed at the gate. A foal was always clumsily running after his mother Fiołka. The one who was born a moment earlier. He was shaking his legs awkwardly trying to keep up so as not to lose sight of his mother. He didn’t know it was for nothing.

This is how successive hot days passed, then autumn and winter ones. Millions of leaves fell from the trees, months passed. Finally, no one knows when, many long years have passed. Tourists were immensely in love with Fiołka throughout her horse life. It’s hard not to love a horse that will do everything for you at its own expense. In human world, we call it a toxic relationship. But with a horse – this is an ideal system. Such horses are hot rolls in this environment. Some tourists came back every season, and commemorative photos were even obligatory. It was the only moment for Fiołka when she could stand for a moment and rest. Tired and bewildered, she did not even pay attention to the children grabbing her mane and tugging at her ears. And probably a picture of Fiołka is standing on many mantlepieces today as a holiday memory. It probably fills a lot of albums and phone galleries as well. Although, believe me, hardly anyone remembers her name anymore. Because it was never about her ..

As time and subsequent seasons passed, Fiołkas legs became weaker and the spine more and more bent and painful. The mare began to squeal in pain when putting on the saddle, and unfortunately for her, she began to bite and kick as well. No, not out of spite. Only because it is the only form of defense against a constantly demanding human. The hard work season is over, so the picture season is over. The foal season is over. Oh, believe it or not, there is no old age season in such places.

And so, one January morning, before the sun rose, the truck rumbled into Fiołka’s yard. There was absolutely no one at the gate, usually crowded in the summer. Nobody came to say goodbye, nobody came to stop it. A defenseless Fiołka was loaded, and the whip whistled up the steep gangway. Behind her, a foal miserably trying to keep up with its mother. Like always.

Together, the mother and the foal went to the trader who gladly took them together. He took it for a short time, only a few weeks. He took them only to take them immediately for slaughter. Fiołka got her private chain here, the little one got half a meter of dung next to her. It was not much different from what they had before. Only that there is no turning back from here.

The merchant unfastens Fiołka and with the help of a whip, chases her along with the toddler to the yard . He stands by the gate and tells me to hurry with the pictures, because he is going to fetch cows in a moment. He does not care who he sells to. Anything to earn. I managed to take a few shots when he squeezed his whip and Fiołka shook on her legs, the toddler pressed into her even more. Whatever hotos I took, it had to be enough for me.

We have to collect 15,600 (3791 USD) to buy and provide transport for Fiołka and her toddler. There is no chance without you. Can you help

We have time until March 4.


Your contribution is doubled.
Matching funds from Pledges for first 10k USD.
(US donors enjoy tax break)

Personal Info

Donation Total: $10.00