11/15/2025
Truth hurts kids
Yesterday was a somber day.
Not dramatic. Not sensational. Just heavy in that way grief settles into your bones when you’re doing the work most people pretend they don’t see.
I drove to Fort Collins to pick up the remains of a horse I never even got to meet.
A horse humans failed long before she ever reached me.
Born a racehorse, barely raced, then lost somewhere in the messy in-between where people stop paying attention. By the time she hit the kill pen, her hock was infected beyond repair. And there I was, picking up what was left of a life that should’ve been protected.
And I can already hear the questions:
“Why don’t you quit?”
“Why do you always need donations?”
“Why do you talk about the racing industry?”
“Why don’t you rehome every horse?”
Let me tell you why.
Because while the people who bred her…
And trained her…
And owned her…
And profited from her…
moved on without a single look back —
we were the ones standing in the gap.
Again.
And yes, we get harassed for it.
The thoroughbred industry telling me I “lie” when I tell the truth they refuse to face.
Other rescues criticizing us because we choose sanctuary over sales, because our priority is healing, not turnover.
People who have never watched a horse’s light go out questioning the very work they don’t have the courage to step into.
But here’s the truth no one wants to hear:
Every single horse owner should be responsible for the life they created or purchased.
Every. Single. One.
There should be contracts.
There should be follow-up.
There should be accountability.
There should be a way to track where these horses land when humans are “done” with them.
But there isn’t.
So the ones who pay the price are the same ones who had no choice in the matter — the horses.
And the ones who clean it up?
Little grassroots rescues like ours.
Underfunded. Overextended. Fueled not by money, but by grit, compassion, and a promise we made to these animals:
You matter. Your life matters. Your ending matters.
Yesterday broke me a little.
Not because we lost her — I know she’s finally at peace —
but because every human who had the chance to save her long before I saw her name on a list… simply didn’t.
So if you want to know why I fight…
Why I raise money…
Why I refuse to shut up about the industry…
Why I won’t stop telling these stories…
It’s because someone has to.
And until the world decides that a horse’s value isn’t tied to what it can produce, win, or earn…
until owners and breeders step up and take true responsibility…
until we stop pretending this isn’t happening…
grassroots sanctuaries will keep carrying the weight.
We’ll keep showing up.
We’ll keep fighting for the ones everyone else walked away from.
Because the world needs change.
And it needs it now.
So here’s the part where I ask you to look in the mirror, not at me.
If this story hits you…
If you’ve ever said, “Someone should do something”…
If you’ve ever wished the world was different…
Then I’m inviting you to be part of the difference.
Not someday.
Not “when things calm down.”
Now.
Do you want to help? Do you want to be part of the change?
Here are two simple ways to stand in that gap with us:
✨ Become a $5-a-month donor.
Five dollars isn’t life-changing for most people…
but it is life-saving for the horses we pull out of the pipeline.
✨ Make a one-time donation during Colorado Gives.
Right now, your gift is doubled.
Your impact is doubled.
Your compassion is doubled.
If you’ve ever wondered whether small actions matter — they do.
They always have.
They always will.
This is how we change the story.
One person.
One moment.
One horse at a time.
To Donate https://www.coloradogives.org/organization/Journey-With-Equus