If You want to Lonia for stationary adoption, the first step is to fill out the ADOPTION FORM.
No space? No problem. If You fell in love with Lonia, become her VIRTUAL GUARDIAN!!
Thank you for saving Lonia!
Thanks to you, Lonia is safe – she came straight to our reserve, where, after quarantine, she will join other horses, so that she can graze on the vast green meadows in peace. Soon a blacksmith will visit her, and a vet will check her out. Thank You for taking care of her fate. It is thanks to you that a beautiful mare will never be forced to do anything again and can lead a peaceful, horse life.
From now on, all Loni’s support will be dedicated to the maintenance and, if necessary, treatment of the mare. Thank you on her behalf!
Lonia has been a slave all her life. She humbly fulfilled the duties imposed on her, did not ever rebel. She was on duty because that was the order. And only sometimes she gazed sadly at the horses grazing in the neighbor’s meadow. When she was pulling a heavy cart in the summer, they were dozing under a sprawling tree, lazily brushing their tails against the flies. While she, with a heavy chain around her neck, watched helplessly as her last foal was dying, the owner and the vet stayed with the other horses to help in the event of trouble. When Loni’s broken and neglected hooves were hurting for weeks, the best blacksmith was coming to the other horses on a regular basis. Loni’s fault was that she was born badly. And she was never loved by anyone. They only ever praised her for being big, fat and heavy. Perfect for giving birth to foals for slaughter. So she gave birth to them.
But Lonia’s last child has died and it was supposedly her fault. The annoyed owner told the trader that she had trampled the foal. And since her owner lost money because that, she must go. A simple matter. Hurried with a whip and a stick, Lonia climbed the butcher’s gangway and in the clouds of dust left behind a world in which she was always treated as something that was supposed to bring money. As she drove away, she only quietly said goodbye to the horses grazing in the nearby meadow.
We met Lonia in the shed of a trader. With her mane and tail hair cut short, she was standing there ready to be slaughtered. Because there are no clients for horses like her. Nobody will buy Lonia to ride her, nobody will take her to give birth to foals. The world does not cry for horses like Lonia. The moment they are no longer useful to humans, they lose their right to life. The sentence is always the same. Slaughterhouse.