Rella's Story: Mylute's Dam's Full Sister

I will admit, I have put off telling this story, the pain of it is still pretty fresh, despite it being almost 5 years since it happened.  But with the news that one of Rella's nephews, Mylute, is possibly a Kentucky Derby contender for this year, maybe it is time Rella's story be told. 

In the spring of 2008 my husband and I decided that we might take on another broodmare for our small farm.  I discovered a nice prospect in Club Hopper, who not only fit what we were looking for, but was in desperate need of a new home.  I did not know how desperate the situation was, however, at the time I was considering buying her.   All I knew was she was pretty much on a farm that was her last chance before a slaughter auction.

Club Hopper had raced and won, not a lot, but she was a winner.  Several of her full siblings were stakes winners and stakes placed, making her catalog page very nice and making her an ideal broodmare prospect for a small farm, like ours, Perfect Peace Farm.

A lady living near me was heading up to PA and offered to pick Club Hopper up on her way back home from a trail ride.  Club Hopper was in MD.

When the trailer pulled up infront of our farm that Sunday morning, my neighbor got out and told me, "You rescued this mare and it was all I could do not to put another horse on my trailer, to get it out of that hell hole."

She went on to describe rotting round bales, no grass, just mud, muck, and horses looking at her with pleeding eyes, "Get me out of here, please!"   But she knew her husband would not allow it, so she sadly had to leave with only Club Hopper.

We unloaded Club Hopper from the trailer and were appauled at her physical condition.  The picture I had seen had shown her as thin, but she had dropped a lot of weight from that picture, supposedly dated just 2 weeks prior.

I had a quarantine stall all set up for her, deeply beded in shavings and it had a small half acre paddock off of it, where she could go out.  I had my other horses out in the field, so they would not share a fenceline.

Club Hopper was so beautiful, despite her appearance, you could sense the beauty in her, her soul shown through her outward appearance.  My oldest daughter was 3, at the time, and "Cinderella" was her favorite movie, but she could not say "Cinderella", she just said "Rella".   It was a name that really seemed to fit the situation and the poor sweet mare was given a new name.

I had rescued in the past, but this was by far the worst case I had ever dealt with myself.  I knew to start feeding very small amounts, just a handful of grain a few times a day, at first, limit her turnout with the grass, which she was not used to, etc.

Monday morning, I called my vet and told them the situation, they sent a vet out the next day.  I also called my farrier, as her hooves were in desperate need of trimming, so that was also taken care of quickly.

When she first arrived, the vets estimated her body score condition at maybe a 2 to 2.5.   She was in bad shape. 

We devised a vaccination and deworming schedule, and discussed my plan to rehabilitate Rella.

I don't remember if it was Thursday or Friday of that first week, but it was one of those days, when I was out checking on her, on my many trips to the barn, each day, when I noticed her hind legs swelling up huge.   I called the vet and one was sent out immediately.

At first they just thought it was a skin infection, so antibiotics were started and I was to start hosing her legs and also wrapping them, to help keep them clean.

Early the next week, probably Monday, I went out about lunch time to check on her and found her down in the stall.  I could not get her up.  She just laid there. 

Another emergency call to the vet and vet was sent out, she was still down an hour later, when he arrived.  He gave her a shot of something, being 5 years ago, I forget all the details, but I think Banamine.     We waited a few minutes and then he helped me get Rella to her feet.

She was obviously weakening and not improving.  He suggested I start her on electrolytes and slightly up the grain I was currently feeding.   I had been feeding her about 6 times a day, maybe a cup and a half, by that point, at each feeding.  Went to 2 cups.

At this point, she started to go down multiple times a day.  Most of the time I could get her up on my own, but vet had to be called to help me out at least 2 to 3 times a week.  Needless to say vet bills were starting to mount up very quickly.

Despite heavy bedding in her stall, she was developing sores from laying down on a skeleton with no muscle mass or body fat.  So it was decided by the vets to limit stall time, despite her still needing to adjust to grass, they thought being outside was much better for her, at this point.

She was then allowed in my paddock that we call our Pond Paddock, so I could see her better from the house.  Well, so could people driving by.  I had several people stop to tell me she was down, several even thought she was dead, a few times.  Each time I thanked them and told them her story, as I rushed out to the paddock to check on her, hoping she was not actually dead.

One day she was not doing well and I called the vet, but he was out on other emergencies so it was going to be awhile.   My husband was home from work that day and we decided going out to dinner would be a nice break for me.   So decided we'd go after the vet left.

The vet got later and later, as not only did he get other emergency calls, but the weather turned nasty, that May afternoon.   We were under a tornado watch and then a warning.

Then the skies cleared and the vet showed up, by that time it was dinner time and getting late.

He assessed Rella and gave her some more shots and then left.

I think it was well after 6 PM by then and my husband had not watched the news, despite the warning from me that we had possibly had a tornado near us, while he was napping.

So we head out and as we get near Suffolk, VA, obviously power is out and traffic is terrible.  We've had the radio on and there has been nothing about a tornado, nothing about traffic, they just keep playing music.

We got stuck in a traffic jam for hours.   Luckily, I had some snacks with us for my 3 year old to eat.  We were not able to get to the restaurant that we wanted to go to, instead we were directed away from Suffolk and had to head to Smithfield.  We finally got dinner at a drive through around 9:30 PM and headed home.

That night at home, we realized what had happened when we watched the local news.   A tornado had gone through Suffolk and right next to the restaurant we had wanted to go to.

If we had not had Rella and had not been waiting for the vet to help her that day, there is a good chance we would have been right in the path of that tornado.

We credit Rella with keeping us safe that day and possibly saving our lives.

For 5 weeks we watched Rella struggle to improve, but she only weakened.  Pictures taken made her look like she was improving, but what could not be seen in the pictures, was that her new belly was not actually weight gain, but fluid leaking into her abdominal cavity.

Rella touched so many people, a dear friend, Tera, sent her fly leg bandages, but I had to stop using them, when Rella's legs starting to swell so much, that all 4 legs were having issues with the velcro straps and her legs started to look like telephone poles and the bandages would just slide down over her hooves and I was worried about her tripping.

Saturday, May 31, 2008 my husband went out at 6 AM to check on Rella, because he could not see her from the house.  He ran into the bedroom and said, "I think Rella is dead."

I lept up and dressed as quickly as I could, racing out to where he said she was.  As I approached there was no movement, but when I spoke her name, a gentle soft nicker could be heard.  My husband exclaimed in shock, "She's alive!  She didn't move when I was just out here."

Rella struggled, thrashing her legs, but could not even raise her poor head.  It was immediately realized she was nearing the end of her struggle.

We called the vet to come to put her down, called my Mom to stay with our daughter, so she would not have to see it, and started to find someone to help us bury Rella.   Then I went and got a bucket of feed and sat on the ground next to Rella, tipping the bucket so she could have her breakfast.

I sang quietly to her.  I had been singing to her since the first day she arrived.  She loved hymns and would stand quietly listening to me as I sang and groomed her or tended to her sores or other wounds.   So, I felt I should sing that morning, as we awaited one of the vets to arrive.

It was one of the younger vets, who had probably been the one to come out the most to see her, so he knew exactly what was going on and the situation.

He assessed her and agreed, she was just way to weak and since she could not even lift her head, putting her down was the most humane thing we could do for her, the last act of love we could give her.

Rella was apparently ready to go, as she was gone before even a full dose was given to her.

After she died, the vet opened her mouth, something he had done many times before, but this time was different.  She had holes and ulcers all over her tongue and the lining of her mouth.  He said he would have liked to do an autopsy, but had another emergency to go to, but he was suspecting from all we could see and her ever weakening condition, that her intestines were full of holes and her mouth was just the last place to get them.   He said that the damage that had been done by the feedlot owner was so severe that even if we had known and given her ulcer meds, she still probably would not have made it.

Knowing that I am a strong Christian, as he was packing up his truck to go to the next farm, he turned to me and said, "Lisa, you notched a good one in your Bible with this horse."

To this day, I rarely can go to Rella's grave, the time I spent with her trying desperately to save her life after the severe neglect, starvation, and abuse, that she suffered it hurts so much that I could not save her.   I do try hard to realize that at least Rella knew true love and kindness her last 5 weeks on this Earth.   She had a purpose, saving us from the tornado and for that I will be forever grateful to her. 

God sent us this poor angel in need of love and I know she experienced "perfect peace" while she was here.  I wish she could have stayed longer, but it was just not meant to be.

So, this year, as the Triple Crown Prep races go forward help me in cheering on Mylute,, who is racing in Louisiana, and watch with a tear in your eye knowing what his mother's full sister went through and maybe, just maybe, Mylute will win the Kentucky Derby in honor of his poor aunt Club Hopper aka "Rella".   Maybe her story will be heard, finally, about how horrible some people treat horses and better laws need to be passed so these criminals can never treat another horse like Rella was treated before I rescued her.

With tears in my eyes, flowing down my cheeks, I conclude this post and wish to Mylute, please race safe and strong and help tell your aunt's story.