Kentucky mare finds care & confidence.

July 18

The temperature that day in Helena had reached 103 degrees and the horse had spent the last 33 hours in a trailer. Now, it was time for Beauty to stretch her legs and explore her new surroundings. It had been a long trip.

It was June when Ron and Mary Wolfe read the newspaper story in the Cincinnati Inquirer about the horse without eyes.

"Blind Mare Needs New Pasture," the headline had read.

Taken from its neglectful owner, the horse found residence at the Boone County Animal Shelter in Burlington. But six months had passed and still no one could find Beauty a home.

It seemed that a blind horse was a worthless horse and nobody wanted her. After all, who had use for a beast they couldn't ride? That couldn't pull a buggy? That couldn't wrangle?

But the newspaper story told of a Montana couple that would take the aging animal if only someone would bring it west. The offer struck a cord with Mary Wolfe. Her family had been due for a trip. They had never been to Montana, so why not take the horse to the only people who wanted it. Why not make a vacation out of it?

And so the journey began. The Wolfes mapped their route. They passed farms in Sioux City and campgrounds in Rapid City. Then, in the dark of night, they finally reached Ovando, home of the Rolling Dog Ranch and Beauty's new pasture.

July 19

Steve Smith didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this.

It was dawn when Smith got his first good look at Beauty. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Horrified" was how he put it.

He'd seen blind horses and deaf dogs. He'd seen sheep attacked by coyotes and cats beaten with shovels. But the owner of the Rolling Dog Ranch had never seen a horse with rotten eyes. He knew right then it would be a long haul to nurse the horse back to health.

"We've seen other animals people have given up on, but that still turn out to have a wonderful quality of life," Smith said. "All they need are the basics. Good food, water, and shelter."

There was no time to waste. Smith scheduled an urgent visit to the Bridger Animal Hospital in Helena. Blood work was arranged. Dental work was planned. A physical exam wouldn't hurt.

Until then, Smith decided, he would have to place Beauty in quarantine. He couldn't risk infecting the other horses.

So Beauty would be alone yet again. Smith wondered how her previous owner could let things get this far -- to a point of blindness, endless hunger, and teeth so bad she could hardly eat.

July 24

Smith took Beauty by the halter. The animal stepped with caution, pausing at the door of the examination room. A little coaxing, a little nudge and she moved inside.

Dr. Keith Stave of the Bridger Animal Hospital appeared skeptical.

"How old is she supposed to be?" the vet asked again.

"Eighteen plus," Smith said.

Eighteen was too young. Beauty was older and by all appearances she looked to be suffering the consequences of her age.

It didn't matter to Stave. He tethered the horse to the scaffolding and began his exam. He shined a small beam of light at the horse's eyes. But the eyes had been replaced by two raw sores oozing yellow pus. The good eye looked like an avocado seed, the bad eye like a rotten plum.

"It's hard to say what happened to her eyes," the vet said.

"What are we talking about?" Smith asked. "Removing them?"

"She'd probably be a whole lot better without them," Stave said. "The problem is that she's 85 years old. Putting an 85-year-old under anesthesia is always risky."

The vet continued his exam and Smith watched. The doctor noted how Beauty's tongue hung from her mouth. He observed the way her head tilted to right. There were more questions, and Smith admitted that when the animal ate, she'd dribble her grain, as if she had a hole in her lip.

"Well, she could have some neurology issues," Stave guessed.

But surgery on a horse is a major ordeal. The only way to tell if she had further complications, Stave said, was to draw blood to see what was going on internally.

"Then let's do the blood work," Smith said. "And float her teeth."

Stave pressed the needle into Beauty's neck. The clear tube filled with blood. A second needle injected a mixture of Xylazie and Torbogesic. The drugs worked fast. Beauty twitched, throwing her head back. Then she stood calm and the dental work began.

Stave used a power tool to grind the horse's sharp molar ridges. The animal was too drugged to care. It was time to rinse. Good. Now the other side. Twenty minutes passed and the ordeal was over.

"She's definitely got some neurological damage," Stave concluded. "We could be dealing with a tumor that's growing. But let's see what the blood says."

July 28

The phone rang at the Rolling Dog Ranch. It was Stave calling. The results of the blood tests were back.

"Well?" Smith asked.

Beauty was fighting an infection. Antibiotics would take care of it. But the tests showed something else. They showed that Beauty was having kidney trouble. Perhaps trouble was the wrong word for it.

Whatever the problem was, Stave was certain, it wasn't serious. It was just another health factor Smith would have to watch.

"The blood work is pretty good considering her age and everything she's been through," Smith reasoned.

Inspired, Smith knew he could cure those sallow hips. He could put some meat on those sunken ribs. A healthy dose Equine Senior Diet could do the trick. After all, it tasted great, or so the label said, suggesting a flavor even the most finicky horses could love.

But Beauty was far from finicky. Her appetite raged. With her new dental work she nibbled every last pellet of grain in her pail. If the infection was curable -- and if the kidney problems vanished -- then Smith would consider the surgery to remove what was left of Beauty's eyes.

"She didn't dribble a thing out of her mouth," Smith said. "A little vet care goes a long way."

July 29

Things were looking up for Beauty.

She had a large corral, a shed and a sense of home. She had a water tank, a salt lick and a protein block. She had hay. Her meals now came twice a day. She'd wait at the corral morning and night, ears raised, head tilted, for the next meal.

"They get on with life and accept whatever condition they have and make the most of it," Smith said of handicapped animals like Beauty. "Your natural human instinct is to feel sorry for them.

"But when you watch them, it's hard to feel sorry for them," he added. "They get around so well and enjoy themselves so much."

But even so, Beauty was lonely. She had four days left in quarantine. She was almost there -- almost ready to be set free. Friday was the big day and Smith was nearly as eager as the horse.

"I think she wants a buddy more than anything in that corral," Smith mused, explaining how he would introduce Beauty to his other blind mares.

He watched the animal stare over the fence. He was right. She did seem a little down. Horses are social animals, he knew. They run in herds and don't like to stand alone. They want company. Beauty wanted company.

"I can't wait," Smith said. "I think that's the only thing missing in her life right now. She'll be a much happier girl."

Aug. 1

Friday arrived with great anticipation. It was time for Beauty to meet her new friends.

The corral gates opened. Beauty and Leena came face to face, neither able to see the other in the traditional sense. Their noses touched. Their nostrils flared. Not a sound in the world.

A moment passed before the blind horses jumped back, squealing. Were they delighted? Were they angry? Back together and the strange ritual went on. Inter-horse communication? Smith wondered.

Whatever it was it seemed to work. The animals came together as if they'd known each other for years. What was Beauty thinking? Smith wasn't sure.

Sometimes, he said, we overlay our human emotions on what we think an animal is doing. But still, he searched for the right word. Was she perkier? No. He tried again. Confident? Yes, that was it. Beauty seemed more confident.

"She seems to know she's home for good now," Smith reasoned. "She seems to be more accepting to her environment."

Maybe she was. She had already gained weight. Her ribs no longer showed like they had when she first arrived that day with the Wolfes. She was trusting, too, even around strange horses and men. She didn't startle or spook at new sounds.

Yes, Smith said, there was a definite difference about her.

"This has been a wonderful end to a long haul for his horse," Smith said. "She's very happy to have that contact. You can hear her nick and whiney when the other horses come around."

Reporter Martin Kidston can be reached at 447-4086, or by e-mail at mkidston@helenair.com