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Updated on 07.02.2022
Julia is already with us!
Thank you with all our hearts for saving Julia. The mare has already arrived at our farm, leaving all the bad experiences behind the gate. She still looks at us distrustfully, she is still scared, but we know it is only a matter of time until she feels safe and loved. It’s all thanks to you! Thank you for giving Julia a chance, thank you for being with her!
Julia looks into the lens and steals the entire show. I cannot look anywhere else. She knows perfectly well this is her day. This one and no other. Because the other chance simply – will not come. The fact that you will see this photo in a few days doesn’t change anything. As if she knows that if she doesn’t move you enough right now, there won’t be a second chance.
She knows that you can decide. Her own gaze may be a rescue for her. Or kill her. Because indifference kills.
The barn in which he is now waiting to fulfill the sentence is quite ordinary. So dark, large and remembers the distant Soviet Union era. It smells like death, ammonia and some kind of despair, if despair can have a smell. Little light shines through the holes in the darkened windows, as if every ray was skipping this place. Because nobody comes here willingly.
I stroke Julia over her warm nostrils, and she glances at me uncertainly. As if she wanted to ask if she was allowed. Because where she lives today, she is punished for everything. The whip cuts through her rump for bad look, for scattered hay. There will always be a reason. The trader does not regret nothing.
Because living in the traders barn is not a fairy tale. So Julia has nothing to regret. She was just born badly. Besides, beautiful stables are not built for mares like her, she cannot have expectations. Because expectations will be replaced by disappointment when life is replaced by the roar of the gangplank, the narrow corridor and death.
The trader wants more than usual for Julia’s life . Because she is supposed to be pregnant. And that ads weight. Yes, of course, that is not allowed. It’s against ethics. And against the law. It is forbidden to kill foals. But the truth is that no one gives the mares an ultrasound in the slaughterhouse. Not that you mustn’t. but then it turns out that you can’t kill. And that’s not in anyone’s interest.
Julia straightens as a string when the merchant hits the concrete with his whip. Her dark eyes widen and she begins to tremble on her frail legs. Better than anyone she knows how cut skin feels. She knows better than anyone that a whip is easy to earn.
So she closes her eyes. And she prays. So that nothing hurts anymore. That it would all end. That someone would take her away from here. Her and her unborn child. Whoever. Maybe us, to take her to the herd of survivors. Anything is better than the world of a whip.
We are begging you for help for Julia. We are begging you for mercy. We are begging you to take her with us from there.