By Susan Kayne
For Capital Region Independent Media
Amid the fields of Unbridled Sanctuary, a young life of one year frolics freely with her friends. She is a leggy filly with a fine silhouette, untouched by the harsh realities her mother once faced.
Her name is LadyBug, and on Feb. 23, 2024, we celebrated a milestone — her first year at Unbridled, marking what is technically her second birthday, as all Thoroughbreds age a year each Jan. 1.
Born on Feb. 23, 2023, LadyBug’s arrival was a joyous event and a testament to Unbridled’s unwavering dedication to helping horses who need a lifeline.
LadyBug’s mother, Ivy, a beautifully pedigreed Thoroughbred, was known by her registered name, “I Get By.” She was born in Kentucky on Feb. 8, 2015. As a yearling, she sold for $35,000 through Keeneland and entered the racing world.
To us, she is simply “Ivy.” Found pregnant and abandoned at the Unadilla auction, tethered in a dark corner, Ivy was mere steps away from entering the slaughter pipeline. Unbridled stepped in, outbidding a local horsemeat broker, to offer her and the unborn foal she carried a chance at a new life.
LadyBug arrived tall and sassy with exceptionally long legs and a distinct spoon-shaped marking on her face. Ivy adored her little filly. The “silver spoon” upon her forehead transcends the traditional understanding of wealth and privilege by representing the boundless love, safety and protection she was granted from the moment she entered the world within the nurturing embrace of Unbridled, where every equine is seen not as a commodity, but as a beloved sentient being deserving of respect, care and dignity.
As the first filly born under Unbridled’s care, LadyBug is a living testament to the Sanctuary’s mission. Delving into her diary, we encounter her experiences, shared in her own voice. Through her eyes, we’re taught not about birthdays, but about the moments that define a life.
LADYBUG: MY FIRST YEAR AT UNBRIDLED
The ground under my hooves is hard and uneven, crunching with each step. Yet, this doesn’t deter me and my friend Lil’Pea from enjoying our time together. Today, Sweet Pea joins us, dividing her time between us and Arnie, the big white mule whom I also admire. He greets us over the fence occasionally.
With winter upon us, our outdoor activities and spaces shift with the weather. Despite the cold, the afternoon sun beams down, warming my dark, fluffy coat like a natural heater. Beside Lil’Pea, we rest, almost dozing on our feet after a hearty breakfast, too full to even nibble at the alfalfa at our hooves.
This season brings memories of my first mama, Ivy. Folks often say I resemble her. She was my universe in my earliest days. Shielded within our stall, her presence a constant reassurance amidst the world’s unknown sounds. The soft straw and her warm side were my sanctuary, each heartbeat and nuzzle a lesson in love and security.
Then, a day arrived that changed everything. I was playing in the indoor arena with mama, she laid down to roll in the sand, just like she always did. She loved to roll back and forth, then she would stand up tall on her hind legs, shake her head, and then we’d run around in circles and buck and twist our necks. But this time, she didn’t get up. I pawed, nuzzled and nickered at her. She didn’t move.
I was taken to our stall. I was alone. People were there, but not mama. The stall felt larger without her, each corner echoing with the memory of her presence. The loneliness was indescribable, my calls for mama answered in silence.
Then came a big red mare, she kind of looked like Miss Ruud and Lucky. She answered my cries, but I did not know her, I had never seen her before. Susan said, “LadyBug, this is Merry, she will help you.” Merry was gentle, and they put me in a stall with her. I was terrified.
Merry nuzzled me, she nudged at me like mama did. And she had milk like mama, too. She actually let me drink! I missed mama’s milk. Merry kept pushing at me and guiding me to drink. She must have sensed my hunger and loss. Merry was not Ivy, but she was my new mama. She loved me and cared for me as if I was her very own foal. She taught me to trust again. In her strength I felt the promise of a new beginning.
Now, I am one year old! My home is a place of gentle strength and shared spirits. Merry, along with her friend Maddie, coddled me. It took them a long time to allow me to play with other horses. Finally, the day came when I got to say hello to Sweet Pea and Cinnamon Sparkles. But they were friends first and hadn’t room for a little sister.
From across the laneway, Lil’Pea was watching me try to make friends. She was with her friends Heaven, Angel and Red. But she was different. While the trio played, she watched me. I felt her curious gaze on me, like she was secretly calling to me.
One day, when we were turned out inside, Lil’Pea came up to the fence and we sniffed noses. Susan let her in the space with me, mama Merry and Aunt Maddie. Of course, they had to check out Lil’Pea first. They gave us the go ahead to play and we have been best friends ever since.
Now, I live with Lil’Pea. She is just a few years older than me. I cherish her companionship. We play a lot together. If we are not playing, we are eating or resting, or flat-out REM sleeping!
My heart, once shattered by loss, is slowly mending through the love and care of those around me.
Smoozzles, LadyBug
Susan Kayne is the founder and president of Unbridled Sanctuary, an equine rescue on the border of Albany County and Greenville.
