The Adventures of Anzor: The Story of a Horse & His Surreal Meditations on Life, Death & People!

By Pam Maxwell

This story is about the trials and tribulations throughout the life of a horse named Anzor. It starts off with a peaceful scene, but circumstances lead to a series of different home environments for Anzor, over which he has little control. He tries to be optimistic for good times to come again and often reflects on the meaning of life. The characters he encounters are very symbolic of what many horses have to endure. There are, however, good people out there, and Anzor’s life, after many adventures and misadventures, takes a turn for the better! Dreams do come true!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543452761

Pam Maxwell

The author, PamMaxwell,is from Aberdeen, in Scotland. She lived there until her early twenties, then moved between England & Scotland until 1983 when she moved to California, USA, via 2 years in a wonderful Mexican beach village. Her passion was always horses, & from a young age she helped out at a riding stable every weekend & holidays. Her 1st pony was dreadfully mistreated before, at the age of 11, she rescued him. He was transformed to a handsome, healthy horse, but then had a very sad demise. Her 2nd horse was not to be for years. With her she won many endurance & Arabian flat racing competitions. Dreams do come true!

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Pam Maxwell.

ISBN:                  Softcover                        978-1-5434-5275-4

                            eBook                              978-1-5434-5276-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/20/2017

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Contents

Introduction

Glossary

Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Introduction

The setting of this story is in England, in an area that really does exist. It is called the New Forest. There, on miles and miles of beautiful woodland and open grassland, herds of wild ponies live. They are an old native breed, called New Forest ponies. Some of these ponies become fairly tame and wander through the villages looking for food.

Glossary

muck out - remove horse droppings

plaited - braided

horse box - a vehicle for transporting horses

hack - trail ride

French meat market - horses were exported to France

Highland pony - a native breed from Scotland

Tarmac-pavement

Note

Spelling is mostly British format.

Both USA &UK styles are acceptable.

Chapter One

I was born at a small riding stable where I lived happily for the first year of my life, with my mother, Shadow. She was a beautiful chestnut horse, half Arab and half New Forest. My father, whom I’d never met, was apparently a strong bay hunter.

I heard many tales of life in the big, bad world, but, of course, took no notice. As far as I was concerned, life had begun; with sups of milk, delicious warm milk, and continued with luscious, green grass and crunchy feeds.

Yes, I was totally taken by surprise when the big change came.

It all started one rainy day, as I stood dreaming, grazing at my reflection in a puddle. I was startled back to reality by the strange noises in the tack room. There, Jane, the groom, and George, the stable hand, were making unhappy sounds, their voices strained.

What on earth is happening? I wondered. Jane soon answered my question, for just then she walked towards me, flung her arms round my neck and told me the whole sad story.

Oh Anzor, dear Anzor, you poor little colt, you’re going to be sold Jane sobbed. The riding stable’s closing down. You’re all being sold and Shadow’s been bought already, though they can’t take her for three weeks. Oh Anzor, you’ll have to leave us and leave your mother forever. Where will you go? I’ll miss you so much, and what will I do?

She burst into floods of tears. Of course, I did not fully understand. I felt an aching in my heart as her tears silently trickled down my cheek, to my chin. I watched them drip into the puddle, blurring my reflection. I looked up at Jane, her eyes looked like the puddle. I closed my eyes and tried to see the future, all I saw was a grey mist.

The days that followed were very unsettling. Flash, Midget and the big brown horse that I had never spoken to, were all taken away separately, in small horse-trailers. I hoped they had gone to good homes. I felt very insecure and a little scared, for I did not want to be taken away from the home that I loved. I could not really believe for one second even that I would have to leave my mother. I had never known life without her. It was as if she was a part of me. Whenever I was cold or a little scared, I would snuggle close to her. I found myself doing this much more often now.

The dreaded day came. Early one morning, I woke up to a rumbling noise. Raising my head, I was dazzled by the two bright headlights of the horse box, which was to take me far from Dewonberry stables.

As my eyes became used to the darkness, my sight got clear, I could see what was happening. These large horse-boxes had been in the stable-yard before. They had taken the horses and ponies to Gymkhanas. When they had returned, there was always much laughter and often, such good spirits had led to extra feeds. My hopes leapt, perhaps they were going to a Horse Show. My hopes dived to the depths of my hooves as I snorted in disgust at myself, for I knew that was not true.

Shadow whinnied as George approached. I did not struggle as the halter was slipped over my head. I trusted George. Now why had George not spoken and walked away leaving me tied to the gate?

Five of the stable horses were led into the box. Fireworks, the skewbald with the hogged mane, lived up to his name and put on a grand display. He did not want to go into the box. All sturdy 13.2 h.h. of him fought like mad to get away. He reared and screamed and lashed out with his hind legs, once succeeding in hitting the driver’s leg. This rough, coarse man, hit back with the big stick he was waving in the air. Poor George did not know what to do. He did not want the pony hit, but knew he had to go in the box. I trembled in pity for my friend. Fireworks was a sensible pony, he must have his reasons for not wanting to go. I decided that the men wanted to take him to some terrible place.

Eventually the pony was chased up the ramp and tied tightly. The battle over and his spirit broken, I saw hate in Firework’s eyes. He had never let man near him until eighteen months old. Until then, he had roamed free in the New Forest. He said he was not a pure bred, because some stallion whose breed he had never found out, had escaped from a farm. The horse had joined a wild herd of mares, resulting in Fireworks being born eleven months later. He always wished that he had never been caught in the round-up and sold. I never understood why he was not happy in a friendly place like Dewonberry stables, but I did admire his ability to tell stories and make decisions.

Jane walked towards me and talked quietly. I was glad the fighting was over. Jane calmed me until I stopped trembling.

Okay, bring him over, George called in a hoarse voice.