Daminer's Freedom

• Taylor Birtchnell, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2009

I was running as fast as my four hooves would let me. I could hear the hunters all around me. There were four hounds with their owners chasing me. Slam! A rope was on my neck, and the further I went away from the hunters the tighter the rope got. I reared up, but the rope stayed on. After an hour of bucking, rearing, kicking and all the other moves I could do I admitted defeat. I hung my head down low, letting them lead me into a strange box contraption. I was covered in sweat, and didn’t notice that I was leaving the savannah, my home. I was too exhausted even to care.

When I was finally let out a mean looking lady was walking toward me. “How much” she asked. “Well, this pinto here gave us a bit of trouble, so, two grand?” said one of the hunters. “Done” said the lady. The hunters left. I was glad the hunters were gone, but I didn’t like the look of this lady. She took me to the stables and said “I’m the boss here, okay?” I whinnied. “So you do as I say. If you muck up I’ll either whip or spur you, okay, Paint?” I tried to tell her my name was Daminer but she whipped me and it hurt so I dropped the subject. For the next two months, I was whipped, kicked, spurred and starved. I didn’t like this lady or the way she treated me. I became thinner and thinner. I had cuts and bruises all over my body. I wanted to punish her like she had cruelly done to me, but how?

One morning, the lady took me for a ride up a fifty metre cliff to ‘show me who was boss’. It was 40º, yet she made me gallop up the cliff. I got stones in my feet and my body was covered in sweat. I was starving and not at all in good shape. I still hadn’t thought of a way to get back at this mean lady. She took some water out of her bag and made a big show of drinking it. She didn’t give me any. That was the last straw. Without thinking, I bucked. I caught her off guard. She flew over my head and down a cliff. I heard a snap, a scream, followed by some whimpering.

That night, some men with the letters RSPCA on their t-shirts came to the stables. One of them told me I was going home to the savannah the next day. I was so excited! I was going home! He also told me that the woman was alive. She had several broken bones and would be taken to court and charged with animal cruelty. The next day I was shipped home. In less than a year, I was back to the healthy me. I was also the proud, dominant stallion of over 100 mares and 50 foals. Life couldn’t be better.