Remembering Bess

Something made me remember Bess. Bess was a teeny tiny Shetland pony who came to us when her owner died. She was a bay and white pinto, with short little legs and an ATTITUDE!!!

I had assumed she had just been a pasture ornament as even a really small adult human was immediately bucked off and slammed to the ground, labeled an untrained old pony she lived a lavish life at EOTS.

One day a trainer tried putting a child on Bess, I warned against it, but as the trainer had her own insurance and was able to keep a tight grip on the pony, reluctantly I said Okay. As soon as that tiny person climbed aboard, I saw Bess begin to change. She squared her legs under her and stood like a stone, tucked her furry little chin, then – she showed us all – She knew everything!!

Two little girls received their very first riding lessons on Bess. When taken to the Bolton Fair horse show, she was entered in the walk-trot classes. All the other children in the class were over-horsed on their Mama's horses or big school horses. They galloped out of control or just stopped still, afraid their precious little riders might fall. Our little shaggy Bess jauntily trotted into her corners while her teeny riders posted their little butts off! They won the first and grand champion of the day!

I just stood their as proud as if I had hatched her myself- speechless and crying shamelessly! I guess she showed me!!

Two months later Bess died. She was 28 year's old. As she lay on the ground at the very end she was surrounded by deer. Wrapped in love we let her go.

Never, never underestimate the spirits and power of animals. Even after all these years, I still cry for our lost ones.

At EOTS we provide end-of-life care for those old or broke beyond repair. Horses that no one else would care to salvage, live here with us. They let us know when it is time for them to go. Until then we give them all that they need to comfortably go on living. We are, I guess, a hospice facility and they help to heal us. We are all broken too, they are our rescuers.

They all have a story. Most of the time we can only guess what it is. Then one day, like Bess, they reveal a little bit. Bess should have died at home with the family who loved her all those years ago, with the now grown-up children she had taught to ride, the ones she carried safely through horse shows, the ones she obviously loved enough to want to please them so well. They outgrew her and she disappeared into the world, only to end up with us at the end of her life. But with a last Ta-Dah she certainly showed us!! Pasture ornament indeed!