Buba

Buba was bought by some large corporation.
Lucky, right?

Well, not necessarily…

These people created some kind of campaign.
Or something.
They collected money.
More than 30 people came to pick her up.
“Great cars. With fanfare.” – the trader says with emotion.

The trader didn’t let them in.
Normal.
But they don’t go to such places, so they were surprised.

They stood under an iron gate.
He says there was music playing and there was even a cake.
Even though he calls it a comedy, I think it was more of a drama.

He doesn’t know if it was someone’s birthday or some other occasion, but “you know, a herd of townspeople with phones, these ladies taking these photos, and when I wanted to give them a rope to load, they all ran away because the rope was dirty and the horse was in shit.” a little, and that I loaded it myself…”

And it would have been a beautiful happy ending, if not for the fact that Buba came back three days later. Equally dirty. No longer elegant transport, they rented something cheap. Finally the action ended. They told the dealer that she was rude, tried to bite and couldn’t stand still.

Today, Buba stands and stares at the camera. A few days have passed since she was “rescued”. The big company that wanted to give it life has today sunk into the ground.

Buba meekly tucks his wet nostrils into my hands.
Does not bite.
He doesn’t even try.

I’m taking some photos of her for you.
And I would like to take her away from here.
No cake, no fanfare and no cute photos for Facebook.

I can take it as it stands.
With a dirty rope and dirty with “shit” and whatever.

But no one will give it to me.
I need to pay a deposit.
Then the rest.
And then I can stand at the iron gate.

Will you stand with me here today?
Dress warmly. November is cold. Take gloves and a thermos, because we will stay there for a few hours…