Kuba

Kuba is old, as old as coal,
Or even older than coal, he could even compete with coal.

After years of work, you know what they sentenced him to.

Because they sentence the horses that end up on your screen to nothing else.

They sentenced him for being innocent, in fact.

We only know that he worked in a horse-drawn carriage, in the fields, and in a skidding operation.
And who knows where else, but certainly somewhere difficult.
Bowed legs, a bent spine.
And an equally bent psyche.

He’s afraid of every movement, afraid of even the shadow of a human being.
Kuba is collecting $830 today.
He’s saving for a life free of pain, free of suffering.
For his final years, maybe months—we don’t know.

But our dream is to give him all of this at our center on the animal farm.
There are plenty like him there.
Some older, some younger, some undefined.
But each of them has their own story.
And Kuba has one of the saddest.
Because he gave a chunk of his life to the man, and that chunk was truly significant.

Despite this, the man still didn’t acknowledge that Kuba, despite his hopes, had earned a pension.
Today, Kuba stands and asks for this final help before he gallops off to greener pastures.
If you can support him, please don’t hesitate for a minute.
Because every minute of hesitation means less chance for peace in this horse’s heart.
Peace for which there was no time or space before,
Or perhaps the man simply didn’t want to give it to him.

We’re chipping in today for just enough for a coffee, or maybe a coffee and a cookie?
And if you like cookies, two cookies too.
But we’re begging everyone who can, please join the fundraiser.
Kuba really doesn’t have much time.

We sincerely thank you for all your support on his behalf, because sometimes that’s all we can give in a verse.
And when you come to our animal farm for the Open House this coming spring 2026, I think he’ll still be waiting for you. He’ll even be looking out for you!
So that you can see in those wide eyes a sea of ​​gratitude that, thanks to you, he was able to live out this last time peacefully.

And in the end, he can leave when it’s his time, not when someone decides.
Because it’s all thanks to you.
It’s wonderful that you’re here.