I’m often asked how many animals we have and my response of  “four cats, two dogs, and a horse” is often met with wide eyes.  And yet truth be told, this is our smallest” zoo” in years; there was a time when my answer would have been “five cats, four dogs, five horses, eighteen hens and a flock of rescued sheep.”  Right now, the biggest change for me is that Sterling is the last of our many horses.  It was a conscious family decision to keep George and Sterling forever.  We knew once the girls outgrew them that they would grow old in our care; we owed them that.  Our other horses (and there were many - we’ve owned over twenty) had careers ahead of them and were either sold to other riders or donated to schooling and therapeutic programs.  

Annie was a little black mare we were asked to take because her family would no longer keep her as she headed into her retirement years - an all too common story.  It seemed perfect — with three little girls there was a time when George was the only appropriate ride for them, so he was busy.  Annie was just the right size, knew her stuff, and we were thrilled to add her to our growing equine family.  However, despite being geldings, Sterling and George (and later Chance), ran her around like crazy.  They all fought over being next to her in the fields, and she just wanted to be left alone.  Some days they worked it out and others I felt sorry for her.  They never hurt her, but they drove her nuts.  And she was very sour to teaching young riders.  Like George, she’d been a lesson pony and as wonderful as that may sound, it can be very tiring for horses.  Going round and round with little children all day isn’t glamorous, and the ones who are good-natured get overused.  Annie fit that mould and I’d often find my oldest daughter struggling to get Annie to work with her in the field.  She was just plain tired.

We eventually came to the family decision that she needed to be retired and felt she’d be happier without our three geldings vying for her affection.  Our local tack shop was home to one of the first therapeutic riding programs in New England, and they took one look at Annie and knew she would be perfect. They put her through a series of tests to make sure she could handle riders with unique circumstances and she passed with flying colors.  She lived out her life about fifteen miles from our farm helping children who might never have had the opportunity to experience one of the great joys in life, being close to a horse.  She was gentle and patient, allowing them to touch and hug her all day long, yet rarely did she have to have anyone on her back. It was perfect.  Years later we received a call from the farm that she had passed away and was so beloved that they’d made commemorative mugs with her photo on it. They sent one to us with a letter of thanks for all she’d done for their mission - it sits on my shelf to this day.  One of my greatest joys was that she continued to teach others as she aged, but was allowed to rest as well.  As horses age, it’s incredibly hard to find them the right homes.  And not every horse is right for a therapeutic program; it’s a fine balance I’ve witnessed over and over again.

Annie wasn’t the only horse that passed through our lives and moved onto others.  There was Tate, a very “green” young horse we bought for our oldest daughter once she outgrew Sterling.  “Green” is an equine term for untrained, and Tate was more than we were equipped for, but found a wonderful home at a girls’ school in Massachusetts where he had many riders and trainers working with him.  Now, almost ten years later he is one of this program’s foundation horses.  

Horses have taught me some of the greatest lessons of my life, from the simple to the unexpected.  One thing I know to be true is that just like humans, they are all on a journey.  Despite wishing I could keep every horse that came into our lives, when we could not I made sure that we found them the right situation.  As caregivers, humans are animals only advocate and they depend on us to make the right decision for them. It’s not always easy, but it’s our responsibility.