Perspective of a HERO (True story) ~ By Kim Meeder
After nearly 14 years of equine rescue, I thought that I had seen it all, sadly...I was wrong.
On October 18, 2008, Troy and I were contacted by those in charge of recovering a small horse that was found by hunters, wandering in the high wilderness of the Cascade Mountains. Evident by his halter and dragging lead rope, the bay Arab gelding was clearly not wild. Instead, while he was being transported to Bend Equine Medical Center for emergency treatment, he was kind and gentle, quietly submitting to those who were trying to care for him. Based on what little information that could be gathered, it was estimated that he had been wandering for several weeks. Even for a young, small horse, he looked to be about 200lbs. underweight and was incredibly dehydrated.
Once at the hospital, it was confirmed...his wounds were severe.
And injury on the back of his left front cannon was so festered with rampant infection that its rotten stench filled the emergency room. A makeshift bandage of green vet wrap had grown into the leg and effectively become a tourniquet, destroying much of the flesh below it. Once the layers of caked blood, puss and bio matter were removed, the tendons of his leg were clearly visible. Even more troubling was the fact that his left eye was completely destroyed and hanging out of its socket. There was also a very ominous looking depression wound behind his left eye. His head, neck, shoulders and front leg gave further evidence of the severity of his injuries, as they were heavily crusted with his own blood.
As bad as his eye injury was...his head injury was much worse. X-rays revealed the UNTHINKABLE.
This gentle, little horse with the kind spirit had been shot in the head -- TWICE!
His x-rays clearly showed where someone had shot him through the left eye with a solid bullet, and then shot him again behind his left eye with a hollow point. The trajectory of the second bulled traveled through the top of his lower jaw, shattering it, and continued on to penetrate his skull as it exploded into nearly three dozen -- inoperable -- fragments of jagged shrapnel. Compounding his plight even further, his blood tests showed that he had lost fully HALF of his blood volume.
It was hard to believe, looking at him for the first time, that he had survived for and undetermined amount of time with a horrifically infected leg wound, a broken jaw, a destroyed eye and lethal blood loss, all with two exploded bullets scattered throughout his head. If this wasn't bad enough, he was also left to wander in a dense, high altitude forest while dragging a lead rope. Any one of theses things should have destroyed him. Yet, here he was, standing before me, blinking inquisitively at my presence with his one remaining eye. I was overcome with the thought that...it was a complete MIRACLE he was standing at all!
It appeared that someone felt his leg wound was just too much for them to deal with or perhaps they thought that it was a fatal wound. Inexplicable, they believed that loading up their friend and driving him to a remote location to be destroyed...was their best option. A 'best guess' is that the offender shot him through the eye and realized that their ammunition was not powerful enough and then shot him again behind the left eye with a hollow point bullet, designed for nothing less than maximum damage.
Authorities believe that the impact of the second bullet knocked him unconscious and he fell to the ground. Bleeding profusely from his wound, it was presumed that during this time, he bled out half of his blood volume. Thinking he was dead, the perpetrator left the scene. Miraculously, the little horse woke up. Somehow, summoning the strength to stand, he lurched to his feet and staggered away.
Yet, even though his wounds are grave -- he is not. Because of his indomitable spirit and will to keep fighting for his life, he was initially called 'Trooper.' True to that title, he is continuing to make meaningful progress in his efforts to heal. It is estimated that he will be well enough to come home to Crystal Peaks sometime around Thanksgiving. Because of the severity of his injuries, his recovery will be long and intensive. The staff, volunteers and kids who come to the ranch are not only up for the challenge of caring for a critically ill horse...they can't wait until he comes home.
Instead of 'waiting,' they are going to him! Since the moment it was determined that this special horse was going to be coming home to the ranch, I have packed up dozens of kids into my truck and ferried them to the equine hospital. Each 'well wisher' comes armed with the same sweet hope, each is determined to help this wounded, little soul KNOW that he is greatly loved.
I visit my new friend nearly everyday. During the times that we are alone together, I often brush him, or softly sing when he seems in pain or sometimes sit quietly in his ward with a notepad in my lap. In these past days of spending time with my wounded boy, I have become very aware of something remarkable about him. He is courageous, he is a survivor, he has fought HARD to live, to keep going. Most horses would have perished when faced with just one his symptoms. Yet, he survived what many would believe to be unthinkable odds. The more I ponder our gelding, the more I realize how remarkably symbolic he is...of so many of us.
At some point in nearly each of our lives, we go through the "horrible, unthinkable" times. We feel as if we have been led out into the wilderness, perhaps by those we loved and trusted, badly beaten and left for dead. We stumble away, wandering within the desolation of loneliness, unable to help ourselves, unable to stop the 'hemorrhaging,' unable to find our way home. Our horizon begins to fade into gray. Death looms.
Yet, it is within this very place, within our darkest night, our deepest wilderness, our greatest despair, when our hope is bleeding out...if we call on His name He comes. Jesus comes into the wreckage of our heart, our blackest place, our wasteland of hopelessness...and He leads us home.
Like a wounded soldier returning from battle, or a little horse from the mountains, we too can choose to fall into the welcome arms of the One who loves us. We, like the soldier or horse, might not look the same on the outside. When we come home from our 'battle in the wilderness,' we might be scared or disfigured, we might carry the marks of our wounding. Yet, as a small boy here at the ranch has so honestly and eloquently stated "He knows that I love him. I told him that I don't mind the scars on the outside...it's the inside that I love." It's not what the outside looks like that makes him a 'hero,' it's the inside, it's the heart...that's what makes a REAL hero.
Perhaps this season finds you in a difficult place, a private 'wilderness.' If so, this is what I know is true; we can never be too wounded for the Lord to heal. We can never be too broken for Him to love back to life. We can never fall so deep into despair, that His immeasurable love for us -- EACH of us -- is not deeper still. There is no such place of sorrow, no such wilderness of pain...that He cannot find us, help us stand up and lead us home.
Because this little horse is so symbolic of this beautiful truth, we hope that you will be pleased to know that we have decided to rename him in honor of those serving our country in the military and all others who have chosen, within their wilderness, to reach for the hand of the Lord and together -- step by step -- begin our journey home.
Although, he was once known as 'Trooper,' he is now...our 'Hero.'
