BANG! The gavel came down. 53cents a pound. And out the door went the beautiful black and white horse. 53cents a pound? How could I not have raised my hand? How could I let the meat man buy her for a lousy $550?!

I left the auction house with a sick feeling in my stomach. She had looked right at me while she was in the ring. Her eyes held a secret I didn't want to hear. But it was too late. The beautiful paint mare was on her way to the holding pen, waiting for the "meat man" to pick her up.

Two days later, she is still in the holding pen as I drive by. She is with 5 or 6 other horses who had also heard the gavel's hollow knock and were sold to the same man. I need to talk to someone. She deserves better. They all do, but I can only afford to bargin for one. I recall the look she gave me as she was ushered out of the ring. She is something special.

Someone comes out of the office, "Can I help you with something?" Luckily my friend is with me as my mouth has suddenly gone dry. "The paint mare" my friend says "do you know who has bought her?" "Yeah, she's mine" he says. My heart is pounding, this is the meat man. "Would you be interested in selling her?" we somehow get the nerve to ask. "For the right price" is the reply "but I need the money by tomorrow- she is due to be shipped out Saturday". The door is open-even with the contempt I feel for this man standing before me, I feel a huge bubble of excitement building. It's a done deal. $750, and the pretty little paint with the pleading eyes is coming home with me.

The trailer arrives at my house. All I hear is her trashing around inside and think "What the heck have I gotten myself into?!" She bolts out of the trailer and circles the small pasture I have set up for her. She is snorting, her eyes are wild. After a 10 minutes or so of watching her in wide eyed apprehension, I open the gate and calmly walk up to her. She is all chewed up from being in the small pens with the other horses. But then I notice a mass of tangled mane hair and realize it is a large rather knotted braid. Suddenly, I lose all doubt. Someone loved her once. How she ended up at the auctions, I don't know. But I promise her she will never go back, I will keep her forever, and she will always be safe, that she was finally home.

After 3 weeks and variety of names, one finally sticks. Being that I bought her a few days before my birthday, my pretty mare's name is now August. She is a stocky girl, not so tall, but surprisingly thick. She has great markings, just like the books say she should. She is registered with the American Paint Horse Association, she is only 7 years old. It is heartbreaking to think she almost ended up as steak on some foreign dinner plate. I have the vet come check her out, he gets called away on an emergency almost before he starts, but palpates her just because I think she may be in foal. "Nope" he says, "just fat I think!" Thanks ok, she's like her mama I think. Four months later and I suddenly realize that my "just fat" mare is looking REALLY round. A few weeks more and I swear I see her sagging belly jump every once in a while. Couldn't be I think. The vet checked her.

A few days later, now there is NO doubt in my mind. My little rescue is heavy in foal. She is huge, the foal is so active. He is jumping all around, she just shuts her eyes and stands there looking miserable. I call the former owner listed on her papers who had dumped her and a half dozen other horses at the auction that day. He sounds surprised, disbelieving and then annoyed. He explains that she has had foals for him but that last year she didn't take and thought she hadn't this year either. "I just have so many others to feed" which means he didn't want to feed something that wasn't making him any money. He threw her away like trash. But the tricks on him. She is in foal, but there will be no money to be made here. I wont sell this baby.

I decide I cant miss this baby's birth. So exciting! Such a surprise! I cant wait, I read everything I can get my hands on. I send out a plea for help on an internet horse board and am bombarded with all kinds of advice and support even though I fear they are thinking "oh geez- what the heck has she gotten herself into. She can't handle it". I think maybe they are right.

I start sleeping outside with her. My best friend is here with me every night too. Good thing I'm not working, I can stay up all night and sleep during the day (90% of foals are born at night). It is April, the weather is cool, but its been dry. 2 weeks go by-no baby. But it must be soon. See her swishing her tail? That must be a sign of impending labor! See her laying down more, its gotta be soon. It is raining now, camp gets moved into the back of my car. Good thing I bought a wagon! Its cozy, but still, my friend is here every night. We have a baby monitor hooked up in the barn so we can hear her water break if we are asleep. Its been 5 weeks now. It will be tonight, I can feel it.

I cant stay out of work anymore, I take a job working for my mom. I am so sure everyday when I go to work, I will come home and a baby will be standing next to Augie. It is torture to sleep in the car anymore, but it would be much worse to miss it! I am terrified something will go wrong, that I will miss it, and Augie will need help. Please just let this baby come! It has been 6 weeks now! The baby must be HUGE! Augie is enormous. She lays down on her side and literally looks like a beached whale. I think she must have been bred to an elephant! What could be wrong? Its been seven weeks now, it is late May. Where the heck is this baby?!

My faithful friend who has been sleeping in the car with me for 7-1/2 weeks, here every night, wakes up to go to work. It is 5am on May 24th. She sits up, looks around. As always Augie is eating. "What the hell is that?!" she shouts. I jump straight up, startled to completely awake. Oh my God!! Its a foot! The baby is coming!! I call my mom on my cell phone and somehow manage to stammer something "Baby! Mom! Hurry! HURRY!" We are trying to throw on shoes and jackets. Its cold, but the sun is coming up, it is getting light out. We run in the corral with the emergency supply bucket. Augie is down. 2 legs and a nose appears from under her wrapped tail. The sack is still surrounding. I panic. The baby cant breath. I rip the sack open with my bare hands. Fluid comes oozing out. I realize my mom is standing at the fence along with my sister and two of her young children. We are all here. It is magic.

Suddenly the baby is out. It was so fast! I look at my watch, only 5 minutes have passed! I realize I am holding my camera. I hope I got some pictures, because I cant take my eyes off of the beautiful little colt trying to stand on his long gangly legs before me. He is mostly white, with a brown shield like pattern on his chest, a small patch on his hip and his eyes and ears are surrounded in more brown patches. Could he be a medicine hat, a horse thought to hold special powers by the Native Americans? It sure looks like it. Wait! He has one blue eye! How could I be so lucky? I am staring at the horse of my dreams.

Suddenly I remember the look this tired mare had given me at the auction that day. She looked me right in the eye and I knew she had a secret. She was pleading for me to not just save her life, but the life of her unborn foal as well. Luck was with her that day, she saved her own life. But more importantly, she saved mine. She is my world, and I am thankful everyday that I listened to the little voice inside of me that wouldn't stop nagging me about the sad little mare that ran through the ring that day. Thankful that I heard the BANG of the gavel as a wake up call rather than a door shutting.

Today as I come out my door, I hear a little nicker. My heart swells with love as I see a goofy little colt with long nimble legs, a dirty white coat and one blue eye standing at the fence to greet me. His mama lifts her head to see what the fuss is about and then continues grazing. I walk up to him and say "Mayson, you have never known a place like your mother did. A place that smells of fear. A place where people dump their responsibilities to the highest bidder. A place where animals are fighting for their life." He nibbles on my shirt, and I scratch his neck and ruffle his mane. He whinnies again. My eyes fill with tears at the thought that he could have been destroyed before he was even born by such a place. In a whisper I promise to him, "You will never go there. You are safe here. You are home."