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By Jill Starr
It was a crisp winter morning as I drove through the Tehachapi Mountains to Bakersfield. Every first Monday of the month an auction is held for the sale of horses and tack. I knew what my mission would be that day as I drove through the mountains, I contemplated the horrific scene which would be replacing this one of perfect beauty.
This day's mission for "LIFESAVERS" was to check the auction's "holding pen" for mustangs. There was a feeling of optimism – the hope that this particular day would find no mustangs. I was wrong.
It was clearly and painfully obvious that my optimism was merely a silent plea for these magnificent creatures. There were probably 200 horses checked into the sale. There were all shapes, sizes, colors and breeds. Three were "BLM" freeze marked mustangs. My stomach clenched, then sunk to my feet when I realized my funds were too meager to save all three, one was my limit.
I was hopeful that there were other good folks with a soft spot for mustangs attending this day and that despite my financial deficiency, the remaining two would go to good homes. Again, I was wrong. None of the other attendees that day were searching for a sound mustang. There was one person, however, who did show a lively interest in the mustangs as well as all the other horses, whether they be young, old, healthy or crippled.
Killer's name is Buster, also goes by Q.B. and makes his living buying horses by the pound and selling them to slaughter houses or Premarin farms. Judging by his apparent age, he's been doing this for a very long time. He is clearly a celebrity here and is given preferential treatment. On his successful days he's said to purchase up to 80% of the horses going through the sale. It's no wonder the auctioneers give him preferred seating.
The auction started and I took a seat to observe. Buster's purchase power was clearly unlimited as he was bidding left and right…and bidding high. There wasn't much competition involved. Today's interest in these horses was unfortunately minimal. The only other big buyer for the day was the auction's owner, Ernie Jones. There were some beautiful horses on the block, many were even registered. Some were ridden in and performed with all their hearts as if they could sense it was their only hope. In most cases, it was their last hope.
Buster, the killer, was paying $350/$400 for some of the smaller horses, such as yearlings, Arabs and ponies. The average Quarter Horse was taken for $500. He went as high as $600 for some of the larger Thoroughbreds. Each time I heard the auctioneer chant "sold to Q.B.", my heart broke for these fine animals – and it happened all to often that day.
It was a day filled with unbearable sadness. Fortunately, I would be able to save one horse and would have to determine which it would be. The focus of Lifesavers is mustangs. This realization in mind, there were three on which I must concentrate. Of those, two were 5-6 year olds which seemingly had enjoyed very little handling. The third was a kind ten year old mare. I stood by her pen watching her for quite a while. She was quiet, a bit insecure and hugged the horse tied next to her looking for comfort and reassurance. Her eyes were very soft. I knew at that moment that she was the reason I had come. She would be the lucky one.
The Bureau of Land Management (BLM) Adoption Program representatives for Bakersfield stopped by the auction to determine whether the mustangs were indeed titled, which they must be to go through the auction. You can only hope that they aren't. If not, the BLM would be able to confiscate them and at least they would not end up with Buster. Unfortunately all three mustangs had been titled. The other two mustangs, in fact, had just recently been titled. They had been with their adopter for over two years. These two little ones were sent through the ring individually, not led in, but pushed through like cattle. The bidding was over very quickly for these two small misfits. You must already realize that Buster won another deadly prize.
At this point my determination to save the mustang mare soared. When her number was up I took a seat directly behind "killer", drew a deep breath and focused. The auction wranglers led her in. Quietly, she walked in with her head low. Killer opened the bid, I followed. Every time killer's hand went up, so did mine. There was another bidder somewhere to the rear. Friend or foe, I could not know, but they dropped out before killer did anyway. The tension was building as Killer bid $475. $500 was my last bid and as I raised my hand I uttered a small prayer. Killer came back with…nothing. The mare was mine for $500! Feeling a wild combination of exhaustion and exuberance, I immediately left my seat to purchase Lifesavers' most recent success. Fortunately, a friend was there with a trailer and offered to a haul the new girl home to Lifesavers' ranch.
We arrived home around 10pm that evening and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about the grueling day. After introducing our new arrival to her pen, that's exactly what I did. Before I drifted off, I remembered to give thanks for the opportunity to save one little soul. I prayed for the others.
Today, somewhat refreshed, my thoughts return to those that I could not save. I have been to the auctions in the Los Angeles area many, many times, but have never been as involved as last Monday. Never before had I taken such a keen interest in the proceedings. It was an unpleasant awakening and I am of the opinion that these auctions are a frightful, stress filled and dangerous arena for horses, only slightly better than a trip to the slaughter house.
On my first walk around the holding pens I saw a group of people standing around a horse that was lying in an isle. It had rained the previous night and the cement walk way had become slippery from mud and manure. This pregnant mare was due in six weeks and had lost her footing and fell. Although she tried valiantly, she could not regain her footing and get back up. The owner of the horse was clearly distressed. His mare was carrying a high priced foal. I was told that she was not going to be sold through the sale, but had been brought to meet a potential buyer who was interested in a private deal. After a great deal of confusion, they decided to sedate the mare and drag her into a pen where she would be able to regain her footing when she recovered from the sedative. I later heard through the grapevine that the mare would be fine. I wonder.
There were some very sad cases that day, as always. There was a Belgian yearling that had something terribly wrong with his left front leg. It was enlarged and bent outward at an unnatural angle. He was walking on it, though with obvious difficulty, and the ground conditions didn't make it any easier. He went through the sale ring and "Killer" got him. Another vivid picture was a young Thoroughbred stallion. He had raced and won $175,000 for his owners before an injury which left him with a knee the size of a large melon. He seemed comfortable enough standing and walking and had apparent good breeding. Certainly he was sound for standing at Stud. Apart from the disfigured knee, he was gorgeous. Killer got him too.
I needed air about halfway through the horse sale and walked outside for a break. I stood and watched as the wranglers rounded up the horses by number to prepare them for the sale ring. This was another state of mass confusion. Four or five men were attempting to get the horses in line. Horses, some with riders, were everywhere. They were coming down the slippery isle this way and that, bumping into each other, frightened and nervous. A very heated argument broke out between two of the wranglers and a fight almost ensued. This added to the stressful conditions to which the horses were already subjected. It was a mad house. I mused that this must be similar to their treatment as they are pushed through pens and at a slaughter house. Only the smell of blood and death was missing.
Let me conclude by speaking to anyone who may be considering selling their horse through an auction for a quick buck, or for its convenience, please reconsider. The Bakersfield auction is horrendous, but it's not the worst. There are horse auctions in every state and each of them have "Killer" buyers who are lurking to prey on your horse. If you have one ounce of decency, or a heart at all, do not sell your horse at an auction. His chances are very slim. This time, Lifesavers was able to save only one mustang. Next time, perhaps two, or more will live, but only with your support. Your donation to Lifesavers will enable us to make a difference. With your help, the unconscionable "Killers" of the world will not win, the horses will. You will.
Copyright 1997 by Lifesavers, Inc.
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