Peggy, the starving horse

I was pretty confused when I saw her, we all were.
What’s on her head, covering her eyes?
Reporter Joan Silver had just got back from the Canim Lake Band Reserve where she had photographed a herd of horses, after we received a tip from a local regarding the state of the animals.
The editorial crew and I were scrolling through the photos, checking out the emaciated animals. Dead horses, dying horses, barely standing horses. Most, as was well-described by one interviewee, looked like bags of bones wrapped in a thin layer of skin.
As we scrolled, we paused on a white horse whose ribs and hip bones were clearly visible; obviously that was distressing to me, but what I was interested in was whatever was piled on the pony’s head — it looked like a bird’s nest or a swarm of bees covering her eyes.
“It’s dreaded mane,” said one co-worker.
“It’s dirt and ice,” said another.
Whatever it was, this horse couldn’t see a thing and that mass on her head sure looked painful; I’ve had gum in my hair and this was probably 100 times worse.
The image stuck in my mind as we looked through the other photos. But none seemed as worse off as she looked.
A horse owner came in later on in the day with some blurry photos of the horses she’d taken that day and, in the midst of them, alone and almost blending in with a dirty snow bank, was that same white horse.
“Hey, there’s Peggy again,” a co-worker said, using the nickname we had given the horse — probably not a good thing to do considering the horse could either die or get put down any second.
We asked this equine-inclined gal about her unusual ‘do.
“It’s brambles,” she replied. “The horses are so hungry they are eating things they wouldn’t normally, like thistles, and the pointy plants are sticky to their hair and skin.”
This sounded even more painful than a bit of tangling.
So, now Peggy, a horse we’ve never met, has trotted into the hearts of the editorial staff of the 100 Mile Free Press and we wonder what’s going on with her.
We know she wasn’t one of the horses moved to Kamloops, as we saw photos of those horses.
Now we wonder, how can we help?
We’ve helped by getting the word out, I guess, but, personally, as someone who doesn’t have land to offer only some funds for hay, how can I help that one horse?
If someone would offer a place for her to stay I’d gladly donate money; do I just go looking on my own, round ‘er up and lead her behind my car?
I doubt she’d make it too far.
So, all we can do right now, is wait to catch another sighting of the bony, messy-maned horse and hope she’s doing all right.

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