Who is Dainty Rascal?

Dainty Rascal is the name of my fashion line, and became my nick name.

Why A Horse Sanctuary?

Every Christmas the first thing on my list was “HORSE”, and every year Santa failed me with stuffed, plastic, or tiny ceramic figurines in the likeness of a horse, but never actually a real horse. My grandmother saw my obsessive love for horses and kindly signed me up for riding lessons at 5 years old, and to my surprise, she even lied and said I was 6 since that was the minimum age requirement. On my 13th birthday, I gave a full poster-board 30 minute presentation to my parents about why I should have a horse, and not just “a horse”, but a BABY horse.. I had seen an ad in the newspaper for a 5 month old colt, all black for $600. We went to see him, and despite every knowledgable horse-person warning my parents against getting a young girl a baby horse, I convinced them that horses were often trained with abusive methods and that I wanted to give just one horse the chance at a perfect horse life. When we arrived, the woman selling him gave me a tiny halter and told me to get to know him while she talked money inside with my parents. His giant brown Blinky eyes were trimmed with absurdly long eyelashes, a fortunate genetic mutation that makes him always look like a doll horse. I put the halter on his giant head, much too big for his spindly body, and tugged gently on the rope for him to follow me. He squealed, turned and kicked me in the chin! I let go of the rope, as he intended for me to, and he galloped away kicking with naughty delight and leaping into the air. I sighed aloud, “I love him…”. At 13, I had a purely rebellious heart and my motto for my new best friend, and our training sessions, was “Addicus, don’t listen to ANYBODY”, and he doesn’t! We grew up together napping in the pastures, and playing “Tag”. This became a terror when he grew to 1,600 lbs, being half Perecheron (draft horse). Whenever anyone was running, he would ditch whomever he was with to go and chase them, and “tag” them… It was very scary for the girls being chased by a giant black dragon horse with no sense of personal space. When Addicus got an idea in his head to do, or not do something, he really stuck to his guns. Many a trainer met their demise trying to “break” his spirit and make him submit to their will.. The first trainer beat him with whips when I wasn’t around to try and gain his “respect”. He rushed her after a few beatings and pooped her breast implant! Slavery didn’t work for humans, and it won’t work for horses either. I warned everyone never to use a whip on my horse. I told them that he was bigger, stronger, faster, and more clever than they are. The only way to work with Addicus is to be his partner. He works for praise and treats. In the horse world, many people expect horses to do whatever they ask for nothing. Addicus did not think this was fair, and neither did I. Addicus was his own person, with his own desires, his own fears, his owns joys. Another trainer beat him for digging under a corral to his secret escape to the grain barn, where he tipped over all the barrels and ate until he was sick. Addicus fought back against the whips and broke the man’s arm. The list goes on and on, but every barn I took him to, there was always some egotistical trainer convinced that horses were a sub-species that exist to serve man. Many people asked me to put him down. He is my child, and it disgusted me that people would ask to destroy a life that doesn’t suit their parameters of suitable behavior. I moved him over and over until I finally made enough money to rent a house with a barn and pasture. At long last, we were together in safety. He calmed way down, and is now 16 as of May 15th, 2020.

The saga of Addicus made me all too aware of the unfortunate killing of “misbehaved” horses. It became my mission to found and run a Horse Sanctuary for the horses that are facing death for unfair circumstances. Horses that people gave up on because they wouldn’t submit, Horses abused so badly that they refuse to be touched, Horses so neglected that vets said it would be cheaper to euthanize them than to treat them. There is no dollar value to life. I knew from having two horses by the time I was 20, that this would be no cheap feat, and that I would need a substantial, dependable income to keep all the horses healthy and happy, especially since I would be taking in horses with special medical and training needs. I was recently divorced and totally broke. Like grocery stealing broke. But I had an undying vision of this horse rescue, and so I turned to Craigslist gigs.. I had my own custom clothing line, Dainty rascal, but I could never charge enough, or sew fast enough to make enough money to support myself and the horses. I started taking on modeling work, first lingerie and swimsuits, then nudes. Growing up in my parents art gallery, I used to stare at the beautifully painted naked women, and noticed that they sold faster than the landscape or abstract arts. Since I was 5, I wore nothing but princess or fairy dresses (NEVER PANTS THOSE WERE FOR BOYS!) and my parents would play Patsy Cline over the surround sound speakers, and I would hop up into the large bay windows and dance and sing for the passerby of downtown, who were so amused that they would stop and watch me dance, then invariably, come into the gallery. I remembered that it was very natural and fun for me to dance on display, and thought I may as well try it as an adult! So I became a stripper. But not just some club stripper, because the rules and payouts didn’t sound ideal to me. I’m not fond of middle men, or bosses.. I became a freelance stripper, working for notorious Biker gangs and secret men’s societies. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was dangerous, and always, it was a good story! Through various naughty self-made jobs, I eventually stacked enough cash to rent a beautiful home with a big barn, training arena and pasture. I started Heart of gold Sanctuary and immediately took on 3 more horses, having 5 total. Soon enough 5 grew to 13, and more on the way! I do offer to re-home the horses who make full recoveries, and I let the horses choose their human. If the horse doesn’t seem to enjoy their prospective new owner, its a no-go. I respect the horses ability to determine their own lives to the best of their abilities. Most of our horses are, however, “lifers” at the Sanctuary. These would be horses with known behavioral or medical issues. An “imperfect” horse is all too often abused, or neglected due to fear or lack of financial abilities, and often leads to a horse being killed. I know they will be safe, healthy and happy so long as they are with me.

They all have a home here with me, a very misbehaved girl who doesn’t listen to anybody either. Together we live indulgently doing as we please, living our very happiest possible lives! Every day I bring carrots, apples, oats, and when in season, pears to the horses. Even the most frightened horses come around after time, and as the fear leaves their minds, their personalities bloom. Watching them offers more drama than a soap opera. We love our lives together and thank you for making it possible for me to work from home so that I may care for them as they deserve to be cared for.

If you would like to learn more about Heart of Gold Sanctuary please visit us at heartofgoldsanctuary.org



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