My Name is Gus, New Edition - Chloe Angele Green (phonics readers txt) 📗

Introduction

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contents

 

Introduction

Dedication

Chapter 1 The Day I Snapped

Chapter 2 Slaughterhouse Save

Chapter 3 Sweet Memories, Sweet Cubes

Chapter 4 Janine

Chapter 5 Love at Last?

Chapter 6 Learning to Trust

Chapter 7 Awakening

Chapter 8 A New Chapter

Epilogue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introduction

 

By Paula A. Green

 

 

 

 

When my precious daughter, Chloe, was in seventh grade, she was inducted into National Junior Honor Society at Hector Garcia Middle School. A service project was required and had to be planned and carried out over the course of the school. Chloe was inspired by her love of horses and her dream to own a horse one day. Through the connections of close friends, we were introduced to “Miss Janine” who welcomed us to come out to her ranch and volunteer. From that blessed autumn day in 2011 until I was hospitalized with a brain bleed in late fall 2012, we went to “the ranch” weekly and cleaned 12 stalls, scrubbed walls, cleaned tack or whatever else needed doing within our capabilities.

 

It was during our season of volunteering there, we met Gus. He is a real horse with a real story; but, since horses can’t talk, we can only imagine his history from the little Janine could learn about him. He had been abused, was acquired by Janine’s brother and brought to her for help in working with him. By this time Chloe had just turned thirteen and decided to base her Girl Scout Silver Award on her love and passion for horses. She wrote MyName IsGus to tell what could very well be Gus’s story based on the few facts she learned. Be sure to read the true epilogue.

 

Volunteering at the ranch was an excellent NJHS project but an even more awesome experience for Chloe getting to work around and learn more about her beloved horses and for me, her proud mom, to step into her world and her interests. I was reminded of words of wisdom penned by a friend of ours at a baby shower when we were expecting Chloe…”See the world through the eyes of your child.” We are hoping to return to our volunteer work soon and see Gus again.

 

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

We dedicate this book, Chloe’s first, to Miss Janine for welcoming us into her world and teaching us both and to Kim Stallman for the connection to and shared love of "the ranch". We are blessed to

know you both!

My Story

The rope burns, cuts, binding my hooves together. Thrashing and kicking won’t do any good, seeing my hind legs are of no use. “Make sure you get them legs tied real well!” yells boss Mal Coron, the leader of these merciless wranglers. “I don’t want another bruise, stupid horse. . .” he mutters before limping off to his shack. That burning rope tightens, only making my pain more searing. “Hands off!” I snap at them, but that doesn’t do any good. Next thing I know, there is more pain, this time on my shoulder. “Shut up you worthless mount!” the cruel man screeches before cracking the

whip on my shoulder again. I bite my lip to avoid crying out, only because of what a little whimper could bring; a bad bruise or a bloody gash.

 

Through tears, I notice the man has brought out a saddle, three sizes too small. “You better hold still this time” he growls before showing his whip, leather with a metal tip. I wince and weakly give myself up to those cruel hands. The air is squeezed out of me as he straps the too-small girth around my middle. He has forgotten the saddle pad again. The saddle leather rubs my skin raw and the girth has about suffocated me when he brings out the bridle. Roughly he forces the metal bit into my mouth, then snaps on the head gear. Something warm and sticky trickles from my lips, blood. “Quit bleedin’ you piece of junk!” he rages in my ear before I receive another slap from the whip. The metal splits my skin, causing more blood to ooze. I clamp my jaw to keep from biting his britches off. He lazily loads onto my back, grabs up the reigns, and stabs his spurs into my sides. “Ya, Ya!” he cries, and I start at a canter. “What am I riding, a turtle?! Run you worthless boar!” he roars before digging his heels into my sides.

 

I don’t know what happened that day, I guess something snapped, because next thing I knew he was on the ground as I hoofed him and snapped at his neck, straining to end this cruel man’s days. Blood splattered my hooves and mouth, but rage and hate fueled the fire inside me. Ropes and whips bite and scraped my skin, but I took no liking to them. Turning away from the half-dead man, I leaped at the boss, eyes rolling, teeth bared. My assault was halted by a rock to the head, and a crack of the whip. Then there was blackness.

When I came to, I was lying in a smelly trailer. The floor was cold and hard, the paint was chipping, and flies buzzed around moldy piles of horse dung and hay. Muffled voices carried into the cracked windows, catching my attention. I perked my ears to hear out what they were saying. “What should we do, boss? That worthless thing almost killed Lee!” a man’s voice cried. “Don’t know, Gill”. Silence tensed the air as I hoped for mercy. The next words only doomed me. “Send him to the slaughter house”.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

SLAUGHTERHOUSE SAVE

 

The slaughter house . . . the slaughter house?! How could they send me there? I’ve tried to be nice! I begin to wicker and whinny, thrashing about, straining to tear the ropes and flee my certain death. Suddenly, the trailer door bashed open and the boss stood before me, snarling. “Just shut up!” he screeched before landing a blow on my side. I bit my tongue to avoid more blows as boss slams the door and latches it tight. I lay my head on the cold railing, heart heavy. What did I do wrong? I’ll be somebody’s Sunday dinner in a few days! As if on cue, a truck engine roars to live, and old horse shoes, moldy halters, and dead hay begins to slide around at the trailer’s bumpy ride. The faster the truck drove, the more things flew around. I whipped my head round and round to make sure I wouldn’t be hit: bad choice. Right as my head was turning, a horse shoe hit me square between the eyes. Feeling light-headed, I lay my head down to gain air, when another horse shoe collided into my skull, making everything black.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

 

When I come to, a voice is raised at boss. “That horse is too fine to be someone’s dinner! I’ll give you $750 for the horse, take it or leave it!” he growled. “Alright! Take the horse!” boss muttered. There was clanging of a trailer chain, which only increases my already hurting head. More clanking and truck engine roaring, and we’re off. The road is smoother this time, and as I lay my head down to sleep, I somehow feel I’m safe. Safe at last.

 

 

                                                                  

 

Chapter 3

SWEET MEMORIES, SWEET CUBES

 

“You’ll never beat me!” I whinnied to my sister as I raced through lush golden fields, the cool breeze blowing my mane back. The small chestnut mare kicked into high gear, approaching me quickly with a determined look in her eyes. I neighed excitedly and ran faster, speeding ahead of my half-sister. Turning, I looked to see my mother and father standing tall and elegant, waiting for us foals to catch up. We were now neck to neck, puffing and blowing air from our nostrils as we raced, desperate to get those bragging rights. Suddenly, the ground gave way and I fell into nothingness . . .

 

“Hey bud! C’mon, big guy, we’re home!” I raised my head wearily as the golden happiness I felt trickled away slowly and gave way to reality. My foggy thoughts didn’t stop me from seeing the boss and crop, though. As if on cue, every sore and cut I’ve ever gotten from a whip seemed to ignite at once, sending me into a whirl of panic. I kicked and thrashed, then realizing there was no rope on my legs. Whotookitoff? I thought, and I slowed my raging. All together it stopped when I realized boss no longer had a crop, and the strange man wasn’t boss at all. I perked my ears and pushed myself up into an almost sitting position, then stood all together.

 

Interested in all the new smells and sights, I stepped down from the trailer, almost at once feeling wobbly. “Woah now, steady big guy!” the man said calmly, supporting me with gentle hands. I didn’t trust this man, but his support made me more confident and I stood straight and still. “There we go, good boy!” the man praised. Good boy?I wondered I’magoodboy?Then the man pulled something small and white from his pocket and placed it beneath my lips. Curiosity got the best of me and I slowly pulled the thing into my mouth. A tingly sweet feeling spread over my tongue, and I felt a happiness I hardly felt anymore. I sucked on the yummy treat for a while before nuzzling his hand for more. He gave in to my “cuteness” and let me munch a few more of the delectable things. “I’ll have to tell Janine about you!” the kind man exclaimed. Who? I was curious to learn more and I followed the man, eager to know more about what happened when I was asleep; and about this Janine. Maybe she has some of those little white things.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

JANINE

 

Days later the man tried working with me. No matter how trusting I had been to him the first day, the feeling of human hands on me was terrifying. The way hands would strike me hard when I did nothing for the punishment, the screeches