Stories that Heal
She was only a frail little slip of a bay pony. She had white marks where once there was brown fur which signified a scar that had kept the pigmentation from growing back as before. Her body also was clearly marked with the tattoo of G12 about a foot long on her side. A number used to label her for experimentation purposes. She had eyes that made her look like she had been crying for a very long time, the furrowed track of many years of tears were clearly seen on her face. The funny thing was she bore no grudge toward anyone and I would guess she never did. It was clear, this little gal had accepted whatever the day would give her. She brought with her a sense of I'll be okay.
We bathed her body in warm water and suds and watched her relax into a sigh. She kept her eyes closed as if to not let any of this pampering end. We cleansed her eyes gently and brushed her with massaging strokes. She knew she was home. Her whole body started to let us know that we were appreciated. She stole everyone's heart in a short, warm summer afternoon. Everyone loved her and she loved every child and adult right back. Patting her was one of life's treasures. Her breathing was raspy and sometimes wheezy but she still found ways to sneak out of her stall instead of stay quiet and rest. She wanted to be where the fields of beautiful emerald green grass were hidden and she would find those fields. It wasn't unusual to see her roaming about just loving life and enjoying the warmth and friendship of all who came to help with chores.
Her last days were lived out with happiness and freedom. She ruled the farm. There were no dry eyes when she passed away to the rainbow bridge, not one. Men, women and children knew they had met and would miss a very special being. She had shown everyone of us how to forgive and keep going and how to enjoy each and every day that you have been given without holding in resentments.
Whenever I feel blue, I think of her eyes with tears and her willingness to keep going and find the path that she knew would lead to beauty in the green fields and in people.
She always found the beauty. In Memory of Chauncey.
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I had no idea I would fall in love so quickly. I am considered a tough old bird with few compliments to anyone uttered from my mouth. If you receive a compliment it's because, in my opinion, it's true, there is no agenda behind it. So to see this horse that was less than perfect, filthy and full of rain rot unload from a filthy trailer and look me square in the eye, most observers expected to hear utterances of disgust and disdain from me. Instead there was silence. This horse looked through me and my exterior straight into my beating heart and touched my soul in one look. He was a black bay with a white blaze. He looked incredibly beautiful despite his matted mane, unkempt fur and dirty tail. he was magnificent as if he had been in movies and this was his outfit for the day. I couldn't believe myself and how much that one look took me into a world I would never have known. I became involved with the Rescue because my life had to have a meaning beyond a paycheck on Friday. I mucked stalls and filled water buckets and knew that I was doing something for a being that had not had a warm stall and clean water until they arrived here at the Rescue. When this horse came, my life changed. I jumped out of bed on the weekends and couldn't wait to get to the barn to see how he was progressing. It was my time alone with him as he was in quarantine. Those magical weeks that Beau was in quarantine were heaven to me. I brushed everyday, picked out hooves everyday and oood and aahd everyday over him. His life too was changing and he loved it and he truly showed me gratitude of the kind I had never known before. There were no flowers or compliments or obligated conversations; instead there were nuzzzles and nickers. I melted at each one. I thank God, whoever that is, for a life that had come from a place of judging and it was usually a negative judgement to a place of sincere peace and well being. The judge resigned and the peaceful soul exists in this body thanks to a being that touched my soul and let it shine.
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A beautiful story can be read on the "In Memory" page at Central New England Equine Rescue, Inc. also,
the story of Abe is a heartwarming and life changing read.
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MY THOUGHTS ABOUT MONTY
By Cheryl Syriac
The first time I met Monty I couldn’t get over the size of him but more importantly I couldn’t get over the scars on his body and especially the ones on his face. I don’t think, at the time, I realized a horse could lose their fur like that and to the point it would never grow back. How absolutely sad I thought.
Monty appeared so unhappy and like a lost soul and everytime I had a carrot or treat for him he would act like it was the first time he ever had one. I felt so bad for him because he seemed unhappy and appeared to be waiting to see what type of work he would have to do at his new home. So I got to know him by making sure I visited him every weekend and gave him lots of attention and a good grooming. At first I would need to give him a dish of food to have him stand still so I could brush him. After a few visits I fell in love with him and I would like to think he with me. It’s one thing to have a dog or cat run up to see you when you come home after you’ve been away for the day but to have a horse hear your voice or see you with their tote full of brushes and walk over to you or wait by the fence until you get to them is a feeling words can’t really describe.
Before I met Monty I felt like I was in a ho-hum, everyday is the same type of life. The kids were grown and moved out and one of my best friends moved to AZ. Every weekend would come and go and I was getting older, bored and unhappy. Something was definitely missing in my life. Monty has brought so much joy to my heart, my soul and has made me feel like I have a purpose in life once again. He is such a love to everyone he meets and is such a joy to watch run and interact with the herd. Everything about him makes me smile and makes me so happy to be with him. He may be scarred and beaten from his previous owners but he is one very happy and grateful horse because of all the love he receives at the rescue.
Monty has forever changed my life and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him and look forward to the weekend when I can be with him again.
I truly love that big boy.
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OLD AGE
An Appaloosa gelding age 34 was struggling to get out of a ditch that was filling slowly with ice cold water. Alone and afraid but wise enough to know that panic wouldn't help him, he took rests in between his attempts to free himself but the more he tried to climb out of this six foot deep hole the more dirt fell on him. At the age of 34 one might think that he would just give up and go with what was about to happen; his will to live was strong and he would paddle the water with his front hoof and then make ONE MORE attempt to get out. The hole that he had stumbled into was dug the night before as he was to be put to sleep and this would be his final resting place. He had somehow found his way out of his stall and slipped into his grave without his owner being aware of the situation, she was at work; he was to be put to sleep that night. His owner, losing her home, wanted to be sure that this old gelding would not end up at an auction or worse.
He could hear a dog barking off in the distance and for once he was glad to hear it. Little did he know that the owner of the dog was a kind and gentle lady who was just walking her dog as usual down the old country road. For some reason, her dog's barking made her go onto the property that she usually would never go on. She beheld the sight of a wet, cold and tired beautiful horse looking up at her. Assessing the situation and knowing alone she could do nothing, she went to a friends house that is a volunteer at a local rescue. She hurriedly explained the situation and that the old horse had started shivering when she ran to get into her car to get help. The old boy who was freed from his tomb. He is still living a good life and a happy life a year later with another rescued pony on a little foster farm.
I have heard often that you know when it is your time to go; and I would add that sometimes you know when it is not your turn to go!
NEVER GIVE UP
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GRETA GIRL
She was a sorry looking little thing. Steel wool looking fur about four inches long, hollow points above her brown eyes that somehow looked very frightened and hip bones and ribs that could easily be counted.
I learned that she had been in a paddock with a horse that had already died from starvation. Next to her, barely able
to stand, was a Thoroughbred in the same condition as she was.
She was starving to death when the Rescue first saw her in March of 2010.
The Thoroughbred was taken in by the SPCA and Greta was taken in by the Rescue. She was grateful for any bit of attention that came her way and was equally as happy to eat her hay. Gradually she was given grain and a spark of life could be seen coming back into her eyes. She seemed to have a beautiful outlook. I am a volunteer at this Rescue and I saw Greta when she was brought to the main barn. She was standing in a field with two other horses grazing but the lack of weight and the lack of luster in her coat was still apparent even after two months of groceries and grooming. I stopped the truck to take a closer look and she immediately raised her head, perked her ears, nickered to me and came walking over as if to say "Who are you?" I reached out and touched her muzzle and smiled inwardly and told her that she was a very pretty girl. She stayed at the fence until I left to get back into my truck; my camera was right there so I grabbed it and took a quick picture of Greta. (the picture above.)
I am not a big lover of mares nor do I particularly like the brown/bays as the "bad guys" always rode bays in the movies that I grew up watching. Horses that belonged to the heroes were Palominos (Roy Rogers), White (The Lone Ranger), Black (Fury and the Black Stallion) or Paints (The Cisco Kid's Diablo) so I was tainted when it came to bays! And mares always seemed too moody for me. So this pretty little bay mare was just that a bay and a mare.
I drove off and thought how wonderful it is to be part of an organization that helps these magnificent creatures; bay mares and all. I went home to my farm and started working and thought about that mare and the look in her eye. It was different. I hadn't been sparked like that in a long time, not since D.F.Sugarfoot had died two years before. He was a magnificent Arabian and we were the best of friends.
A few months went by and a call came in asking me if I could take Greta in for a while and the main barn at the Rescue would take little Tucker, a miniature horse. A full sized stall was needed to take in another horse and Tucker could have Allison's stall as Allison (a miniature horse too) roamed free in the aisleway anyhow. Her stall was too small for a full sized horse. I said okay. So Greta came to my barn and Little Tucker went to the main barn. The first morning that I went to feed her, she greeted me with a soft nicker. The first nicker I had heard like that in two years. My heart both sank and flew at the same time, if that is possible. I looked into this mare’s eyes and saw my own reflection, it was smiling. I fed the seven horses in my care and walked back down to the house. Curiously, I had a bounce in my step that the dogs even picked up on; their tails were wagging furiously. The sun seemed to be shining brighter than usual and the blue sky was bluer than usual I noticed.
Greta was going to be adopted by a lovely lady who had filled out the first bit of application paperwork. I am a riding instructor and she asked if she could take a few riding lessons to be sure that Greta was the horse for her. A little high headed but willing to learn, that was Greta. I have since learned that Greta is a purebred Morgan that showed as a driving horse perhaps that is why she carried her head so high. She didn't take long to learn how to soften.
I found myself wondering if this kind and elegant lady was going to really adopt her, I knew she would have a lovely home and would be loved and cared for.
On a bright, warm morning just before her lesson, this lady decided not to adopt Greta, she could not bond with her for some reason. She couldn’t explain it. as Greta was a lovely mare but she just didn’t feel that special bond.
The weeks flew by and I found myself getting more and more attached to this little bay mare named Greta.
I had fallen in love with Greta and filled out the paperwork. Greta is now my girl. She is lovely and sassy and she looks like a million dollars and she still nickers just for me every morning. She is the most beautiful Bay colored sweet mare in the world. She belongs in the movies and she would most definitely be with the “good guys”.
ps. While Greta was at the main barn those first months, no one was allowed to take scissors to Greta's mane or tail. Betsy told them that I wouldn't like that at all. I have since been told that everyone at the main barn knew that she would be that special horse for me. Everyone but me that is.
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LITTLE LULU
One little paint pony with a thick and flowing white mane and crystal blue eyes survived what must’ve been the most frightening ride of her little life while traveling on a large horse trailer from the Midwest to start a new life at a local college. She arrived at the college badly hurt from being stepped on in that trailer.Her name was Button, and for the next few months the college repaired her badly broken bones on both sides of her little body. She developed an infection One can only imagine how frightened she must’ve been every time she saw anyone coming near her to give her shots, medicines, or to clean these wounds.
Button couldn’t be caught by anyone at the college. She would run like the wind and as fast as lightning to avoid contact with a human.We have heard that because of her fright flight one caretakers there,decided to teach her a lesson and once caught hit her with a 2x4. Obviously this didn’t make things better for her, it only reinforced her reason to be scared. That person, once found out, was promptlly fired.
A wonderful caring woman named Danielle, who also worked at the college was persistent in advocating her release to Central New England Equine Rescue.She couldn’t be ridden because of the remaining bone chips that could not be surgically removed protruding from the sides of her body.
Button arrived at the Warren Barn very scared and uncertain about her life once again. I have never been witness to an animal being so scared and it was so very sad to see her run and not want to be caught. If you were lucky you could encourage her to come toward you with a tasty treat. She got wise to that rather quickly and although she wanted that carrot, she wouldn’t take the chance.
Vicky worked with her and taught us the best way to gain her trust. It wasn’t easy and at times it was very frustrating; especially when a storm was on its way and she needed to be brought to the safety of her stall.
Over time, I felt that with patience, lots of love and persistence perhaps this little gem could enjoy all that the Warren Barn has to offer. Lots of love, patience, kindness, treats, grooming and trails to go on with a friendly volunteer.
Every weekend, when I could make it, I would attempt to make friends with her in her stall. I would bring her tote of grooming materials and be armed and ready with some goodies. She would scramble, try to hide in a corner, and run back and forth in her stall to get away from me but eventually she realized I wasn’t all that bad. It always made me so sad to see her so scared. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body. We graduated to her letting me put a halter on and we would go for a long walk. It took a very long time to be able to catch her when she was in her pasture. Being the awesome instructor she is, Vicky made it happen by making sure I did it right and Lulu was never chased but was always shown that I was not going to chase her but encourage her to come to me. Vicky changed her name to “Lulu” because at times that’s how she acted. Just when you would make progress and be within inches of being able to put on her halter, she would bolt in a flash.
Little Miss Lulu, as I like to call her has finally come around and has discovered the love from so many volunteers that come to help at the Warren Barn. She will sometimes give you a hard time about being caught but she comes more freely and is happy to be with you. She knows, that means a good grooming, treats, love and a nice walk. It’s so good to hear her knickers and whinny and there’s no doubt in my mind, she’s happy.
There’s something so rewarding and so good for our soul when a horse can be nurtured, loved and brought back to good health and to a life they so deserve. In my next life, I hope I wind up at Central New England Equine Rescue where I know there’s love………..Cheryl Syriac
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how animals change our lives.