“Oh yeah.” Sebastian sighed. “Rock, paper, scissors for which radio station we listen to?”
* * * *
The auction was a shithole. A cesspool of greed with no regard for the animals.
If it had been in another county, I would’ve called the authorities. Here, it didn’t matter much.
Most of the horses were on the skinny side. I could see a couple of people I knew who bought for slaughter, and pointed them out to Seb.
“Don’t let me go punch anyone, okay?”
He snorted, his eyes dark with hatred that could only come from a deep love of animals. “Only if you do the same for me.”
“Deal.”
We did a circuit of the pens, trying to decide what to bid on. There were several horses that were clearly drugged to keep them calm, others were injured in ways that made Seb vibrate with rage. Not all of the animals were as bad, though, and that gave me hope we could save some that had a long life ahead of them.
Suddenly I heard my name called and turned around to see two familiar faces.
“Willa and Kevin, hey.” I hugged her and shook his hand.
“It’s so good to see you, Theo. Sorry it’s under these circumstances,” Willa said, beaming at me.
She was in her fifties and her husband was about a decade younger. They’d been rescue friends of Ruth’s. When you ran a rescue long enough, you could be sure you met the same people over and over again.
“Guys, this is Seb, he’s our vet.” They shook hands. “Willa and Kevin run a sanctuary in northern Missouri,” I explained.
“How many are you getting?” she asked, frowning at the pen closest to us with five scared horses in it.
“We have room for six in the trailer. You?”
“Four.”
“That’s up to ten lives you’re saving,” Seb said quietly. “It might not feel like much, but it’s huge.”
Kevin nodded quietly. He was the strong, silent type.
“Well, since we have a vet here, can I talk to you about what we’re looking for?” Willa peered at him hopefully.
Seb smiled. “Of course.”
She grabbed his arm and began to walk with him, chatting away.
Kevin and I chuckled and continued after them more quietly.
* * * *
In the end, they picked up two draft types and a young mare with her foal. She was terrified and traumatized, and the foal was malnourished and appeared only to be a few months old.
Meanwhile, Seb helped me pick six for us.
Two of them were from the same place and seemed bonded. They were an average looking gelding pair, except they were malnourished and neglected. They were pretty tall, but not too heavy, so they would potentially be good for many things.
Then there were two medium sized ponies, and two more draft types. We picked ones that I knew we could help and rehome, given time, something that Seb kept telling me we needed to keep in mind whenever he saw me eye a more severe case.
When we got back on the road with our purchases in the trailer, Seb sighed.
“What?”
