The story of Amigo...

Amigo must have been an incredible horse. A dun with a long, black mane and tail, black feet and the dark line down his back. He stood tall and proud as the stable hand loaded him in the trailer. He only had one fault, he was walking on the cannon bone of his right foot.
"He went lame a couple of weeks ago," the stable
manager said. "Some kids tried to ride him but his hoof curled up like that. He ain't no good to anyone no more."
Amigo's hoof had at least six month's worth of growth on it, telling me that he had been this way for a long time, kept in a stall, hidden away. His filthy coat, his matted hair - no one had cared until a visitor to the stables called us and arranged for the owner to donate him to Habitat for Horses.
We spent two weeks building him up before the operation. Our vet clipped the tendons, fitted a brace and told us, quite frankly, that there was only a small chance that he would make it. We tried because Amigo tried.
To see the fire in his eyes was to understand his desire to live. Even crippled, he belonged in a world of running, belonged out in the pasture with the other horses, racing and bucking. Amigo was full of life, not willing to lay down, not wanting to give into a hoof that didn't support his dreams.
The days that followed showed us how dreams can turn to dust. The twice a day dressing changes, the constant shots, the gentle hands of the vet did nothing for the healing. It kept getting worse, the skin started sloughing off, then the hoof wall separated and we knew it was over.
Another horse to be beaten by humans. Another life taken, another dream stolen...