Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Catherine Chamberlain on June 24, 2009 at 6:12pm

Who Said a Horse Can't Be Your Best Friend?
Just one look into those soft, brown eyes,
and everthing else melts away.
It's just me and Chance, partners and friends.
We can ride and play everyday.

Sure dressage can be hard work for us,
but it's the goal at the end that counts.
As long as I have him by my side,
I am ready for it when I mount.

We both love to show, just Chance and I.
In the ring it's alwyas so much fun!
Doesn't matter if we win or lose,
as we move up the levels one by one.

Whenever I'm sad or feel alone,
I go to him and I'm on the mend.
He's always there for me, like a rock.
Who said a horse can't be your best friend?

I wrote this poem about my horse Chance, a seven year old Dutch Warmblood gelding. I got him two years ago when he was five and I was twelve. He's taught me so much and I'm so grateful to have him. He feels more like a best friend to me than a horse. It seems like I've had him my whole life, not just two years! I hope to have a long partnership with him because I know I can always count on him to be there for me, either in the ring or just sitting in his stall telling him my worries as he munches on his hay.
~Catherine~

Permalink Reply by Theresa on June 24, 2009 at 7:54pm

The courage I took up to say good-bye to you, Misty. Last summer, I got a chestnut Arabian mare named, Misty for the appaloosa spot on her hindquaters. We started training that same week and we rocked the group. The 8th month of training was our practice show for all 3 groups, Dressage, Cross-Country and Show Jumping. Misty and I rode as one in the dressage ring with only 10 sec. pennalty. We raced through the Show jumping ring by 20 sec. average and the last group in our practice, Misty broke her leg. The next night, I got a call from the vet saying, " She isn't going to walk anymore and we believe she is pregnant." WHAT?!? Misy was in a paddock with a stallion the night she got there. "How long will she be in pain?" I asked. I know the vet wouldn't put down a mare that would be giving birth at any moment. "Misty will be giving birth in 24 hours. Then she would be put down. I'm sorry." Then I hanged up. Misty would be out of my life forever but wouldn't leave me without saying goodbye. The next day, I didn't fall asleep and my eyes were red from cring all night. Mom drived me tho the veterinarian clinic to see the new foal Misty wouldn't get to meet. Mom hold the door open for me as I walked in and Misty looked as fine as daylight. I knew she was in pain but wouldn't show it. Just as the vet came in, I just noticed a foal walking right beside her. "It's time to say good-bye to Misty." I took up all of my courage to run up to her and say, "Good-b-b-bye,girl.I-I-I'll mi-mi-miss you s-s-s-sooo much." I was cring so much that she didn't know what was happening. Even now, I hope she is happy for all I do now is cry for you to return to me, Misty. The foal(which was a filly), I took up to raise her because Misty would have wanted that. I named the filly Memory because of her mother's coat. Misty if you can hear me, please don't forget I miss you ald that I will always love you.Bye Misty.

Permalink Reply by Nora Robinson on June 27, 2009 at 2:20am

I'm so sorry for your loss.....thanks for sharing

Permalink Reply by Jennifer Knapp on June 24, 2009 at 8:05pm

I bought my first horse at the age of 26, Firle Place, a 12 year old Dutch Warmblood/tb. She was my dream come true. We immediately bonded and became best of friends. She taught me a lot about being a first time owner and was extremely patient with me and in return, I spoiled her with love and Carrots! About 6 months after I purchased her, Firle recieved a devastating injury. She was, what I can only think, was attacked by another horse in her pasture and came in 3 legged, puncture wounds covering her back legs, etc.

We immediately called the Vet and after extensive x-rays, we found out she had a bad fracture in her stifle on her right rear leg. My only concern was for her to recover at least to the point of being able to live the rest of her life pain free. I could not even think of having to have her put down.

That day began our journey toward real companionship, friendship and team work. With clear instructions from the vet, I quickly learned as a first time owner of only 7 months, how to give injections, (and these needles were huge!), and the worst part, learn to ignore Firle's constant pleads to come out of her stall. She would be stall bound for what seemed like forever. Two a day injections of antibiotics lasted for several weeks along with bute and the wrapping and re-wrapping of all four legs twice daily.

A few of the punture wounds along with her fracture.

I prayed everyday that the fracture would not lead to a bone chip breaking off as the vet said was very possible due to where and how the fracture was. We made it through the rest of the winter and into spring. More x-rays about 4 months later showed the fracture was in fact healing, YEAH! We still had a long road ahead of us though.

Toward the end of June early July, we were on the road to recovery. Firle was cleared for light hand walking out of her stall. Everyone warned me how crazy she would be from being on stall rest for almost 6 months and to my surprise, she was the complete angel she had always been. She did not spook, want to run or anything. She listened to my every command so we worked toward her rehab.

Walking our way to recovery!

By August, she was allowed to go out in the round pen by herself. The first day I put her in there, I held my breath! She walked in the gate, turned back to look at me, neighed and immediately rolled! I knew then, that she was going to be ok.

To my delight, the next few months came with increased rehabbing, including walking with a rider. This was slowed due only to the fact that Firle ended up with 7 stitches near her withers after rolling on a sharp rock.

By December/January, we were trotting under saddle, building up the time each day. Soon we moved to cantering around the year anniversary of her injury and after the vet watched her at the trot and said, "Go for it!" Every day, Firle improved more and more, and I am happy to say, not only is my Firle living the rest of her life pain free, she is back to jumping and loving it!

I thank the vets for all their advice and all the people at the barn for their patience in helping this first time owner deal with a horrible injury. I never could have done it without them and Firle is sure to thank them every day as she greets everyone at her gate with a whinny and a rub of her head on your shoulder.

My now 15 year old Firle is happy as can be and living the princess life with her lifelong companion, ME!

Enjoying our life together!

Permalink Reply by Carey Sages Mackin on June 24, 2009 at 8:31pm

My poem is "My Last Ride" and because it is so long I thought the best way was to give you my blog site and the title so as to enter it in the contest. When you see how long it is,hopefully you will thank me for not taking up all your space. So, I'd like to enter "MY LAST RIDE" which is the 6th poem back from the beginning of my site. My site is www.MindSpirit908.blogspot.com I hope you will read it. It truly was my last ride but me and Cliff my 18H Hanoverian are still together but retired now. He lives at our small farm with a pony buddy I got him. He is healthy & happy and we are growing old together sharing arthritis and sore joints. :)

Permalink Reply by Margaret H. Ostrowski on June 24, 2009 at 11:42pm

Tragedy struck in my life recently year combined with overwhelming joy. At this juncture in my life I am strategically and furiously juggling the money to be able to hang on to my friend “Harvey”. Since age five I somehow sensed that owning a horse would complete me. Then, at the age of 53, God answered my prayers, and I finally fulfilled that dream of that five year old girl by purchasing a fifteen year old Thoroughbred who has made me “horse poor/memory rich” throughout this first year of our time together. This relationship began with leasing for six months; soon I jumped into the proverbial water with both feet, signed a Bill of Sale and located a boarding place. I recall the day I stood at the gate waiting for his arrival at his new home. As the horse van came over the hill, and slowed to make the turn into the driveway my joy overwhelmed me and I began crying as the reality of a 50 year dream hit home---I was now the proud owner of this magnificent responsibility/friend. This year has been a whirlwind of ups----training, showing---and downs--- Fretting over his hocks, deciding to have his hocks injected (he was an angel!); realizing it was a good call even for his neophyte owner/Mom. Then unforeseen tragedy struck. My husband was let go at his job due to no fault of his own. Myself employed in the very stressful field of mental health therapy combined with this major financial blow from those my husband trusted has really strained us financially and emotionally. With this tragedy we decided to keep Harvey as long as we could, as my husband gratefully realized my relationship with Harvey was getting me through the this life-changing upheaval. We probably never would have purchased Harvey if we knew at the time that my husband was going to soon lose his job due to lack of vision by others. Therefore, I felt it was Divine Intervention at that particular moment that brought Harvey into our life prior to the loss of my husband’s job. My husband looked continuously for employment; we both aged. Eight months, and the emptying of two Retirement CD’s later, my husband was able to secure employment. Even so, we will probably not recover the money spent and we are still continually fearful of expenditures and hoping this nightmare year is over for us. Owning Harvey is like having a child although the financial sacrifices have been worth it to us. Harvey has given back so much more than our financial output. Harvey has been my “mental health therapist” throughout this past year, distracting me from the financial and emotional pain and listening to my tales of woe so I can support my husband who struggled grievously this year. This year we have not been able to ride due to a back problem and a large abscess - about the size of a quarter per the farrier. Between Bill, the farrier, Kim, our trainer, Dr. Denise, our Veterinarian, Jim and Nancy, the barn owners --- I am forever grateful -- due to me working in Ohio and living in Michigan --- they are all working with myself and Harvey to get him well and back to active riding and showing. The cost has been a sacrifice --- Harvey is worth it -- I am becoming creaky at my age -- and soon will no longer be able to ride. When I am sitting in a rocking chair at the nursing home (hopefully far in the future) I will thank God and Harvey for the wonderful memories I have of riding, showing and spending my last dime for a new saddle for him (that cost almost as much has he did). I will have known a wonderful friend who gave me experiences that I will always treasure and have met wonderful people in the equine world along the way. I continue to take each day as it comes and hope to hang onto this wonderful friend as long as I can in this terrible economy. I pray daily that I have enough money to keep him and return the love he has shared with me as we both go into our golden years --- he at age 16, and me at age 55. We all are truly blessed to have been 'bitten by the bug'. Love this site!!!!

Permalink Reply by Kiki Newton on June 25, 2009 at 12:35am

This is my girl Dana. Technically she dosnt belong to me but she might as well as I do everything else for her. We met in "05 when her owner asked my freind to ride a green horse for him. Both Dana and her feild buddy Delta were really emaciated and it took a long while before I could ride Dana. As she was green, my freind rode her first as I had only just started riding. In short it didnt end well as my freind and Dana have never got on well together, why I can decide but my freind is constanlty telling me to buy stronger bits, martingales and other things which I have never needed and Dana plays up no end around Sam.
But Dana is like my other half. I think I would be hard pressed to find a husband as co-oprative, sweet and with that uncanny ability to read my mind than Dana does. Sure we have or moments like any relationship but she's always there and I try my best. People say that horses are aloof creatures just because they dont come running up to you like dogs do but they are so wrong. A good horse is better than all the gold, silver and jewels in the world. Once you gain their trust, that invisble cord like bond between person and horse it takes a lot to be broken.
My ultimate dream is to buy Dana but that dosnt look likely. Yes she has impeccable, Olympic breeding but her owner has skewed ideas when it comes to value. Maybe thats a good thing, stops him selling her to the steady trickle of people who pull up outside of her paddock and ask if she's for sale. No duhhh do you see a for sale sign for you partner?

Attachments:

• cool pic.JPG, 2.2 MB
• dana and me.jpg, 220 KB
• dana and me11.jpg, 807 KB

Permalink Reply by Barnmice Admin on June 25, 2009 at 8:25am

Sniff...sniff...going through lots of Kleenex, but addicted to reading these incredible stories!

Permalink Reply by Ann Murray Livingstone on June 25, 2009 at 4:17pm

MAE DILLON

"The Wonder Horse of Tatamagouche"
In Memory

Ann Murray Livingstone

Mae was dead. Mae Dillon, the Wonder Horse of Tatamagouche was dead - dreadfully, irrevocably dead.

I could barely grasp the cold hard facts in the terse newspaper article that accompanied my grandmother's newsy letter. "Owner Owner Will MacQueen had to shoot the 10 year old mare after she was injured in a car accident on Main Street. Mr MacQueen said the mare reared when she confronted the car, struck the windsheild with her feet and threw her rider...who was not badly injured. Ten months ago. Mae had a colt. Prince William, that Mr. MacQueen is training"

At fourteen, I had only experienced the death of one beloved pet, so death at best was still a very difficult and remote abstraction. Mae was so far away. tucked in a tiny village nestled between the French and Waugh riveers in Colchester County, Nova Scotia. I, on the other hand, resided in Vernon, in the lush blossom bedecked Okanagan Valley of British Columbia.

However, that did nothing to ease the heartache as the tears slid down my cheeks and dripped heedlessly onto my shaking hands. "Mae a trick horse, was well-known throughout Nova Scotia as that alone, but her chief claim to fame lay in her attraction for children. She and her owner had looked after the children of Tatamagouche for several years. She had hauled a cart containing three or four children and a dog and usually two children on her back. She was a familiar sight on the village's main street. She once carried her master to Charlottetown and back- a distance of more than 200 miles."

I had never had my own horse, so Mae was my surrogate and my beloved friend. However, I could only see her on summer vacations. Those particular vacations did not occur often as my family had to cross a continent to see friends and relatives.

My first recollection of Mae was during the summer of my sixth year. I was lifted onto a broad warm back. I sat there in ecstacy, as this very large creature posed obediently as the camera clicked. My young legs even then fell naturally into the curve of the mare's sides. Holding the reins in both hands I felt completely in control as Mae stood patiently. This was part of Mae's everyday routine. She was the popular subject in a multitude of photographs.

Mae's entourage was an ever-changing small swarm of children. They trotted by her side or sat in a coveted space in the two-wheeled cart. The luckiest of all were the previleged two that perched on her back amidst the harness as she proceeded sedately down the village street. She was a large comfortable Standardbred mare with a kind eye and a calm disposition.. She was chestnut, a lovely warm reddish-gold. She had two white socks and a white stripe on her face.

Mae was adored absolutely by all of her small charges. She was the perfect mare to introduce a child to the world of soft inquiring lips slipping across a tiny palm, as it was held up bearing the expected treat. Her kind eyes would look down into the small upturned face. Then she would delicately take the proferred sugar cube and crunch, crunch, it would be gone.

The feathery touch of her soft whiskers flicking across my small hand sent a delicious shiver of longing and love through me for the great kind mare looming above. I would stand in front of her and fling my arms as wide as they would go in a huge hug. My face would be pressed to her chest for, after all at six; one does not have an extended reach. The warm horse scent that seems to permeate lanquid, hazy summer days would fill my nostrils. Sheer bliss. Heady with love, scent, touch and sight, when night fell I would fall asleep with lovely chestnut mares cantering through my dreams.

That summer when I was nine will be etched in my memory as a halcyon time in my young life. I had returned to Tatamagouche after three years. My expectations for those two weeks in August were boundless. Indeed, Mae still lived in the barn next door to my grandparent's home. Bright and early the next morning I went to hang on the fence between the two properties. I hoped for a glimpse of my dream horse. Will MacQueen was there pottering about the yard. Friendly and patient with all young people he noticed me hovering. I was invited into the barnyard. For the next two glorious weeks I belonged to the "share Mae club."

The anticipation of each day had me up at sunrise. Impatiently I would bolt toast and slip out the back door before anyone was stirring. The dew would be wet and heavy on the grass. I would drift quietly through the mist-shrouded dawn to the fence and duck between the rails. Mae's voice would lift in an inquiring nicker. Her head, surrouned by a nimbus of light would appear from the gloom of the box stall. I would offer my gifts of carrots and apples. She would dispose of them with quick efficiency. We would spend the next hour or so in companionable silence, drowsing in the morning sun.

Finally, Will would emerge from the house and amble down to the barn. Then came the enjoyable time of grooming and harnessing Mae for the day's pleasue. By that time various young people would have arrived axious to join in the day's activities. The group formation changed every day as well. On the days that the train came through the village we would all go for a ride down to the station. The train would come chugging along the track puffing smoke and whistling spasmodically. Under Will's firm hand, Mae stood steadfast as a rock amidst all the noise and confusion.

On other days we would drive out for a jaunt in the country. We moved slowly along the gravel roads leading into the rolling hills above the village. Daisies, buttercups and Queen Anne's lace grew in wild abandon in the ditches and along the roadside. Bushes luxuriant with wild roses dipped and swayed in the warm wind. The rich heavy scents of ripening grains and and fruit mingled with the lighter perfumes of the wild flowers.

Then, home again. Mae was unharnessed, rubbed down and fed her grain. As twilight fell, she would bury her nose in a pile of fragrant hay. When she settled for the night, I would wander slowly home to supper. Then to dreams of chestnut mares chasing one another through sweet scented meadows.

One day Mae cast a shoe, so she was led up the hill to the blacksmith's forge. In those days small villages had their own forges as many horses had to be shod. As I walked by Mae's side I peered ahead into the forge's dim interior. The fire was banked to a bed of glowing coals. The heat lifted in shimmering waves and enfolded me in tight sweltering bands. Mae stood quietly and patiently as her hoof was measured and trimmed. The new shoe, shaped and altered while red hot, was dunked in the water. Steam rose, obscuring the sweating smith from my view. With quick deft strokes he fastened the shoe securely.

Wil lifted me onto Mae's bare back and I twined my fingers in her reddish-gold mane. Taking the halter rope he strode down the hilll. He stopped occasionally to let Mae forage for delectable grasses at the roadside. The sun gilded Mae's red coat and caressed my bare legs. I leaned forward along her neck and hugged her tightly. As I clung in somnolent comfort, she walked quietly with her head touching Will's shoulder. Will sang softly and Mae's head nodded in time to the music. At the barn I slipped reluctantly from her back. Another day with Mae was gone.

During that summer I was able to record some of these memories for all time. My mother took photographs of my beloved Mae and me. When I look at them, I am immediately returned to a simpler, gentler ime. Mae was also well known throughout the region as a trick horse. She could count, add and subtract by tapping her hoof on the ground. She would take Will's hat off. She would answer yes or no by nodding her head. On command Mae would rear high into the air standing straight and steady on her hind legs. I sometimes sat burrowed into her her neck as she rose to intoxicating heights. She could also sit down on her rump. Not a very dignified position but, even so, Mae always had an aura of dignity. At nine, I thought that she was the best horse in the world. Now all these years later, she still has that special place in my heart.

However, even the most perfect times must end. My vacation drew to a close. Amidst many tears I bade my dear one goodbye knowing that I would not see her for another three years. My anticipation was at a fever pitch as the summer of my twelfth year approached. I had ridden in the ensuing three years in both Saskatchewan and in B.C. Still, Mae was always in the back of my mind.

When we arrived in the village, I slipped away as quickly as I could. I was through the fence, into the stable yard, hoping against hope that she would be snug in her stall. She was not there. As I disconsolately kicked a pebble around the yard the back door opened.. Will stood there, much older than I remembered him. I asked for Mae. He had allowed a village girl to take her for the summer. My hopes were dashed. Heartbroken, I turned to go. I saw Mae once that summer. The girl brought her by the barn one day and Will called me over. Mae was there for half an hour and I could take pictures. That was the last time I ever saw my beloved friend.

Years later. hospitalized for a couple of days in that village in Nova Scotia, a friendly nurse told me more of Mae's death. Sleepless, I chatted with her. She remembered me from that idyllic summer so long ago. She was Will's great-neice. She told me the village girl was riding Mae the day of the accident. The girl was cantering Mae down Main Street when a car pulled too quickly out of a side street. In that spilt second Mae made the decision that would end her life. She tried to leap the car in a vain but valiant attempt to avoid crashing headlong. As her forelegs shattered the windshield, the rider was flung clear. Bleeding profusely from her wounds Mae fled to the haven of her stall. They found Mae there, with blood soaking the straw beneath her. The R.C.M.P. constable shot Mae as she lay dying.

Even after all these years and riding several favourite horses, Mae still remains in my heart. In the watches of the night, I still can see, hear and ride my beloved Mae. I can still dream of lovely chestnut mares chasing one another through sweet scented meadows.

Permalink Reply by onlyme on June 25, 2009 at 4:48pm

I don’t know how to describe the partnership between my horse and I, and it is even more difficult to put it into words, so I am going to be completely honest, as that is the biggest quality my horse possesses.
I am not the world’s best rider. And I never will be, I accept that. But I am always learning, and so is my horse, Merlin – we have learnt together and together we are constantly learning.

[IMG]http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x148/actonbendino/Image004.jpg[/IMG]

Merlin is so honest, and so forgiving as a horse and a person that I thank my lucky stars that I found him as a green-as-grass 6 year old. He sorts himself out at a fence if I get it wrong, he never hits a pole and does his best to make sure he does not.

I “click” with Merlin, and I love him dearly. He will do his very best to get to the other side of the fence, so I must do my very best to keep him happy. He hates being schooled inside an arena, so I try to avoid this as much as possible and school in fields or on hacks. He loves jumping so I try to incorporate flatwork schooling into jumping exercises! This is us together at our first international - I think this shows just how much he tries for me!

I
He will come to the gate when I call for him, and every afternoon when I get home from school he waits for me at 4pm at the gate in the field, he is very punctual! Here he is waiting for me!

Together I hope we do the best that we can, and that I can fulfil ambitions that I have, but if I don’t, I am not too worried, as he is too special to spoil. Merlin and I are a partnership, we learn and grow together. As he does his best for me, I always try to do the best for him.

We jumped this fence last summer at a working hunter competition, where I was the youngest competitor there. I think it sums up our partnership!

Permalink Reply by Brenda McArthur on June 25, 2009 at 10:42pm

My name is Brenda McArthur and I own and operate Whispering Hearts Horse Rescue located in Hagersville Ontario. I will tell you a bit about who we are and what we do here at the rescue.
I have always had a passion for horses, even as a child. When I was 10 years old, I used to help out at a local riding stable all day to have the opportunity to ride for one hour at the end of the day. At 14 I worked at a riding facility as the lead for trail rides and any other chores that were needed. I would spend my summers and weekends there. I did this for about 3 years.
I became a member of the Dunnville Humane Society Board and held the positions of Director of Investigations and Director of Foster Parenting. These were volunteer positions as Haldimand County did not have Humane Society services at that time, only animal control.
In 2001 when Welland Humane Society was contracted to provide animal control and animal cruelty services for Haldimand County, I obtained employment with Welland to provide animal control and cruelty services in the County. I obtained my official Agent status through the OSPSA which provided me the authority to conduct cruelty investigations. I also was an animal control officer.
Upon leaving the Welland Humane Society to obtain employment with Haldimand County Administration, I became a board member on the Welland Humane Society Board of Director with which I held the position for a year.
During the past 10 years I rescued 2 to 4 horses a year which quickly became 4 to 6. I began to realize there is such a great need for horse rescue in this area as horse cruelty is not as recognized as the more domestic breeds such as cats and dogs. I realized we needed an advocate to educate and provide a service to the public to help prevent horses from being subjected to auctions and even worse, slaughter. I needed a bigger farm.
We found the farm in Hagersville in the summer of 2007 and this dream started to become reality. We moved into the farm in December and the work began. We have a 48 acre farm with a few barns and arena. The main herd has a 17 acre paddock. There are a few smaller paddocks we have built to house horses that need more hands on care. We are still building more paddocks and hope to have more built in 2009. We are also looking to build a quarantine paddock, however this all comes with a price tag.
We are not legally a non profit and receive no funding. We raise funds through donation boxes and public donations that are sent in. We sold calendars this year with pictures of our rescues and it went very well, we printed 250 and sold most of them. We are currently starting a used tack drive to collect used tack to use or sell for funds to help the rescue. We also bake horse treats and are selling them as well. We have been selected as a recipient for the Mayor's golf tournament this year to receive $1500 which we will build the quarantine paddock. We will also hold a garage sale, tack swap sale in july at the farm.
The farm operates on our personal wages as Dave and I both work full time to keep it going. We have 16 volunteers that come out to help with chores and working with the horses. I also have a trainer, which donates his time to the rescue to conduct clinics for the volunteers so that all are training the horses with the same method. We use the Chris Irwin method which is a non-resistance training program. With this program, you are communicating with the horses in their language; it is a wonderful program that is very effective with these rescues as many of them have behaviour issues. I also have a Farrier, which donates his time every 4 weeks to trim as many horses’ hooves as needed for free, what a gift!
We are desperately seeking a vet that will help us; we are hoping someone will step forward to donate a few hours a month to provide some examinations as vet care is one of our biggest expenses.
We currently have 40 horses on the farm, 32 of which are rescues.
During our first year, 2008, we brought in 42 horses, adopted 22 horses to good homes and euthanized 4 horses that we couldn’t save, however, at least they don’t hurt and are not hungry anymore. They have gone to a better place.
One of our special rescues is Rosie; she is an 18 year old Arabian mare that was so emaciated that you could count every bone in her body. She was also blind in one eye as apparently she had been hit with a paint ball. I was contacted by an acquaintance as the owner was going to euthanize her. I brought Rosie home in the fall of 2007 to see if we could save here and within 4 months she was absolutely a gorgeous loving horse. She has been adopted by a great family near Chatham and is loved by a 14 year old girl every day. Rosie touched everyone that met her as she was so kind and trusting even after the rough life she had endured. Since Rosie’s adoption, her original owner from 18 years ago has found us and is so glad that she has been saved. This man was devastated when he saw the pictures of what had happened to her.
Our current special case is Bella, a 3 year old mare that is going blind, she has cataracts. We are hoping to help her as she has many good years ahead of her. She is so very friendly and loves people. She deserves a chance.
We totally rehabilitate the horses we take in from feeding to training, even if they are already ridden, we assess them over a 6 – 8 week period and take them through our full training program from leading to riding. This is so we can best fit the horse to the new owners. There is an adoption procedure in place where I interview the potential adoptees and inspect their farm. There is an adoption contract that allows me access to the horse and vet records for follow up. I do follow up and will remove a horse if it is not being treated properly.
We rescue the horses from local auctions and take in unwanted horses for the public that can no longer care for them.
Basically in a nutshell, I have dedicated my life to helping horses. Some ask me why do people mistreat horses and I respond by saying, why do people mistreat dogs, cats, children and each other?? It is out there everywhere and we can all make a difference. My motto has become “Where the Whispers of Horses in Need are Heard”. I feel as though when I go to an auction, their eyes lead to their soul, it is as if they are saying please help me, that is where I get my strength to carry on this huge undertaking.
I BELEIVE OUR STORY DEMONSTRATES PARTNERSHIP WITH DAVE AND I, THE VOLUNTEERS AND SUPPORTERS AS WITHOUT THE PARTNERSHIP, WE COULD NOT ACCOMPLISH ALL THAT WE DO FOR THE HORSES. THIS STORY ALSO DEMONSTRATES OUR COURAGE TO TAKE ON SUCH A HUGE UNDERTAKING ALONG WITH THE HORSES COURAGE TO ALLOW US TO EARN THEIR TRUST

Permalink Reply by Brooke Cooper on June 26, 2009 at 12:12am

Paddock Boots
Old Friends
Waiting by the door
Once your warm brown leather
Held the scent of something new
Polished in bearing
Stiff with righteousness
Sure of your technique

This morning I see the marks
Honorable wear has taken on you
Your toes curl up
From hours spent
Teaching my heels to stay down.
And I see that even leather
Has a memory

The third pair of laces
Finds a natural home
In the grooves
Carved across your tongue
Your ankles sag
When not supported by my own
From all the hours spent together
Two things become one
Finding our way home
In the stirrup

Hours of close contact
With rank horse sweat
Have emblazoned cracks
Across the arch
A badge of honor
Like the wrinkles
At the corners of my eyes

New boots could never tell
Such an interesting tale

Attachments:

• Paddock Boots.jpg, 157 KB

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