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Marybelle's StoryMarybelle arrived at Flicka in September 2008.
Judy, our Co-Director, tells her story... “I lost my dear Mum and our founder in June 2008, the heart of the charity was gone, grief was with me constantly and I decided I couldn’t face doing this work anymore. Having made the decision we would wind down the charity lots of preparation had to be carried out, then out of the blue, one day in September 2008 we had a phone call about five donkeys. Mum always adored donkeys, but as a sanctuary they had always eluded us, and now here we were being asked to take five... As we agreed to take them, we were still undecided about our future, but this was urgent." |
"As these five poor, pathetic donkeys came off the lorry, nothing could have prepared me for the sight before my eyes – the first one with a foal at foot was to become Marybelle (a name very special to me from childhood memories of my Mum). I had seen pictures of emaciated, neglected and beaten donkeys, but here was one standing in front of me and I was horrified."
All five stood, each one had one of our young volunteers standing next to them, the lorry left and all I felt was fear – fear because I really thought their condition was beyond all the nursing care we had applied to many ailing horses and ponies before. There was initially an eerie silence on the yard as we all contemplated what had arrived; no words were needed to know what we were all thinking. Marybelle was the absolute worst, so thin, her coat was just matts of dry hair and full of lice her feet were deformed and overgrown. She had infected wounds around her back legs, scars on her back and such curvature of the spine resulting from who knows what, she also had a really nasty 2“ wound high on her back leg, and her head hung low with utter resolution to her fate. We were soon to learn she had far worse health issues. I was completely shell shocked by it all – we led the donkeys into two large pens that we had piled high with new fresh straw, they went in and all promptly lay down to sleep. We fed them carefully so as not to shock their systems, but it was obvious none of them had ever had a feed bowl in front of them let alone feed.
All five stood, each one had one of our young volunteers standing next to them, the lorry left and all I felt was fear – fear because I really thought their condition was beyond all the nursing care we had applied to many ailing horses and ponies before. There was initially an eerie silence on the yard as we all contemplated what had arrived; no words were needed to know what we were all thinking. Marybelle was the absolute worst, so thin, her coat was just matts of dry hair and full of lice her feet were deformed and overgrown. She had infected wounds around her back legs, scars on her back and such curvature of the spine resulting from who knows what, she also had a really nasty 2“ wound high on her back leg, and her head hung low with utter resolution to her fate. We were soon to learn she had far worse health issues. I was completely shell shocked by it all – we led the donkeys into two large pens that we had piled high with new fresh straw, they went in and all promptly lay down to sleep. We fed them carefully so as not to shock their systems, but it was obvious none of them had ever had a feed bowl in front of them let alone feed.
"When everyone had gone that evening Laurie and I stood and watched them for ages and we cried..."
We cried for everything they had endured, what we didn’t know we could guess - think of the worst thing that can be done to a donkey and you’d be right.
While they were all thin with wounds, poor coats and terrible feet, Marybelle concerned us the most; she was a very sick donkey and got worse over the following days. It was almost as if now she was safe she was letting go (I had heard many stories of donkeys once rescued and taken to safety just dying days later). She tried to eat, but with great difficulty. Animal welfare vets came to see the donkeys to photograph and take videos and shook their heads at the sight of them. We called a local vet to Marybelle and found her flanks were so sore and bruised she couldn't bear to be touched, broken ribs maybe? We'll never know - he thought euthanasia may be the best thing. We were so upset, our first donkey to arrive here for sanctuary and a safe haven for the rest of her life, was only going to have had 24 hours of love and kindness. Unable to make the decision, we gave her another 24 hours in the hope something amazing would happen.
We coaxed her to eat and she did try, but as much food spilled out of her mouth as went in – there was a very strong smell from her mouth, her other ailments had to wait, getting her to eat and take supplements and medication was vital. After the first day we watched her and honestly thought she was dying in front of us. Snowberry was her foal; even a tiny nudge from him knocked her to the floor, in his desperation to get out of the way he trampled all over her head. We had to move Marybelle to an isolation stable with a heat lamp. Snowberry had to learn quickly to bond with some of the others, he was no longer suckling milk because Marybelle had nothing to give.
We contacted Gill Spinney, a fantastic equine dentist and she came to us as an emergency. We held Marybelle up for Gill to take a look, her teeth were in a terrible state, she had one growing into her cheek, it was ulcerated and she had abscesses round several others - her teeth were so bad they were poisoning her system. Our dilemma was now that she would most certainly die without treatment, but may well die with treatment... With a sliver of hope we had to pursue her dental operation.
While they were all thin with wounds, poor coats and terrible feet, Marybelle concerned us the most; she was a very sick donkey and got worse over the following days. It was almost as if now she was safe she was letting go (I had heard many stories of donkeys once rescued and taken to safety just dying days later). She tried to eat, but with great difficulty. Animal welfare vets came to see the donkeys to photograph and take videos and shook their heads at the sight of them. We called a local vet to Marybelle and found her flanks were so sore and bruised she couldn't bear to be touched, broken ribs maybe? We'll never know - he thought euthanasia may be the best thing. We were so upset, our first donkey to arrive here for sanctuary and a safe haven for the rest of her life, was only going to have had 24 hours of love and kindness. Unable to make the decision, we gave her another 24 hours in the hope something amazing would happen.
We coaxed her to eat and she did try, but as much food spilled out of her mouth as went in – there was a very strong smell from her mouth, her other ailments had to wait, getting her to eat and take supplements and medication was vital. After the first day we watched her and honestly thought she was dying in front of us. Snowberry was her foal; even a tiny nudge from him knocked her to the floor, in his desperation to get out of the way he trampled all over her head. We had to move Marybelle to an isolation stable with a heat lamp. Snowberry had to learn quickly to bond with some of the others, he was no longer suckling milk because Marybelle had nothing to give.
We contacted Gill Spinney, a fantastic equine dentist and she came to us as an emergency. We held Marybelle up for Gill to take a look, her teeth were in a terrible state, she had one growing into her cheek, it was ulcerated and she had abscesses round several others - her teeth were so bad they were poisoning her system. Our dilemma was now that she would most certainly die without treatment, but may well die with treatment... With a sliver of hope we had to pursue her dental operation.
"Marybelle stood patiently being supported back and front, while unsedated, she had two hours dental work"
Marybelle had five teeth out and many sharp ones filed, the cheek had to be removed from one as it had been impaled and embedded on a tooth. After two hours of treatment was finished Marybelle could not stand, we wrapped her up and placed her under the heat lamp. A couple of hours later we had to administer anti-biotics by injection and wash her mouth with a saline solution. This was to be the
vigilant regime, she could not eat and got weaker every day, we lifted her up between us; she was so frail I thought we may be hurting her, it felt as if her skeleton would crack and break. Yet, throughout her ordeal I had the very strong sense that she knew we were helping her and that maybe she did want to live. Laurie and I took it in turns to sit with her, she often lay with her head in my lap and I smoothed her face and told her how well her son Snowberry was doing.
vigilant regime, she could not eat and got weaker every day, we lifted her up between us; she was so frail I thought we may be hurting her, it felt as if her skeleton would crack and break. Yet, throughout her ordeal I had the very strong sense that she knew we were helping her and that maybe she did want to live. Laurie and I took it in turns to sit with her, she often lay with her head in my lap and I smoothed her face and told her how well her son Snowberry was doing.
"Marybelle spent weeks under her heatlamp"
We kept a 24/7 watch, taking it in turn through the days and nights to check her, in the night when I was within ten feet of her stable my heart thumped with such apprehension that she may have died –every time I said ‘please God let her be alive’ and she was, but she never moved from her heat lamp.
After about a week, she was looking brighter and taking feed from our hands, so one day we helped her to her feet, opened her stable door and coaxed her outside, she leant on two of us as we shuffled her out into the sunlight, but she seemed to enjoy the sun on her face . This became a ritual each day, half carrying, half guiding her out onto the yard where she would sniff the air and just stand and stare. This progressed – we’d get her up each morning then she managed to walk herself outside – albeit a little wobbly –she would often take herself into the hay barn to lie down on the new soft hay, sometimes trying to help herself, even though she couldn’t eat hay! When we felt she’d had enough we’d go and lift her up and get her back to the stable.
This went on for a couple of weeks until one day we helped her up, she came outside walked around then headed for the hay barn and lay down for a nap. After some time I thought she may want to get up, so I headed towards her ready to call for reinforcements to lift her, and then… she did it! She got to her feet on her own! I ran around the yard calling, telling everyone and all came running to have a look at our miracle donkey, it felt like we’d won the lottery… no, better than that – our dear little Marybelle was getting stronger every day and she continued to thrive, put weight on and develop a wonderful ‘diva’ personality which had been so suppressed with illness and depression. We continued to help her up each morning, but this got less as she became stronger - a huge milestone was going to check her early one morning, as I rounded the corner to the barn, there she was, head over the door, ears pricked and at the beginning of a bray, she was pleased to see me, but I suspect not nearly as pleased as I was to see her!
"Marybelle improved daily, she put on weight, her ribs became well covered and her quarters rounded up. In fact when we put her out in a small fenced paddock; she was so fit that she ‘galloped’ and ‘bucked’ all around the paddock and even stirred up all the other horses, in every single field!"
Years on, we cannot look at her without remembering what a tough, strong willed little lady she is and how she looked when she arrived, we are proud of her and so privileged to have her, and all her friends of course, here at Flicka. They are loved beyond words; there is nothing we wouldn’t do for them.
After about a week, she was looking brighter and taking feed from our hands, so one day we helped her to her feet, opened her stable door and coaxed her outside, she leant on two of us as we shuffled her out into the sunlight, but she seemed to enjoy the sun on her face . This became a ritual each day, half carrying, half guiding her out onto the yard where she would sniff the air and just stand and stare. This progressed – we’d get her up each morning then she managed to walk herself outside – albeit a little wobbly –she would often take herself into the hay barn to lie down on the new soft hay, sometimes trying to help herself, even though she couldn’t eat hay! When we felt she’d had enough we’d go and lift her up and get her back to the stable.
This went on for a couple of weeks until one day we helped her up, she came outside walked around then headed for the hay barn and lay down for a nap. After some time I thought she may want to get up, so I headed towards her ready to call for reinforcements to lift her, and then… she did it! She got to her feet on her own! I ran around the yard calling, telling everyone and all came running to have a look at our miracle donkey, it felt like we’d won the lottery… no, better than that – our dear little Marybelle was getting stronger every day and she continued to thrive, put weight on and develop a wonderful ‘diva’ personality which had been so suppressed with illness and depression. We continued to help her up each morning, but this got less as she became stronger - a huge milestone was going to check her early one morning, as I rounded the corner to the barn, there she was, head over the door, ears pricked and at the beginning of a bray, she was pleased to see me, but I suspect not nearly as pleased as I was to see her!
"Marybelle improved daily, she put on weight, her ribs became well covered and her quarters rounded up. In fact when we put her out in a small fenced paddock; she was so fit that she ‘galloped’ and ‘bucked’ all around the paddock and even stirred up all the other horses, in every single field!"
Years on, we cannot look at her without remembering what a tough, strong willed little lady she is and how she looked when she arrived, we are proud of her and so privileged to have her, and all her friends of course, here at Flicka. They are loved beyond words; there is nothing we wouldn’t do for them.
"Marybelle is what ‘Flicka’ is all about… she never gave up, and neither did we…
Maybe Mum was telling me something...."
Judy x
On the 31st March 2018, it broke our hearts to say goodbye to our beloved Marybelle, please follow the link to visit her special memorial page...
~ In Loving Memory of Marybelle ~
~ In Loving Memory of Marybelle ~
