Just working on figuring out how to do this!

Hello all! I'm seriously trying to get back on this blog! It's time! As previously mentioned, we've moved to a wonderful new home! All our buildings are built to order and everyone has a clean, dry, sturdy and NEW place of their own. We have three ponies and three horses, one piggy, Blaze, alas Hamish died this spring at 21 years old! Almost a record, I think! He died peacefully in his sleep. We have five beautiful neutered bunnies that need new homes, and 8 hens. We are still small as we are needing  to finish our buildings so we will be able to accommodate more. The horses we have will be here for life. Beautiful baby Faith is still with us, as is Gabriel. Faith is totally blind and is currently having another episode with her left eye. I'm praying we will not have to remove it, but it looks pretty awful. She is 24. Gorgeous Gabriel is 31. He is blind in his right eye, but is still exquisitely beautiful. We have Coco, Moon, Thursday and Zephyr. They all have their own issues and need to stay with us.
    We had to move from our old place because it was sold. It was huge and had 20 stalls. There was an accumulation of 20 years worth of stuff we had to move! We found a new place immediately but there were no buildings. Somehow we pulled it all together and with the help of our wonderful volunteers, we succeeded! We fostered out those that could be safely moved to my wonderful "Hydrabud" Jessica who was basically raised at EOTS and has started her own rescue in Maine. Sadly both Bianca and Rose died on the same day just before we were ready to move.
    The old building was falling apart and as traumatic as it all was it was the best thing that could have happened to us! No more shoveling snow off a 120' long barn roof. No more fishing dead animals out of the well. No mor unpleasant neighbors.
    So here we are! 25 years of EOTS and still hanging in there! I'm going to try to put up some pictures now! Let's see if I can!

Hello! I'm back!

Learning how to do this now! Stay tuned for updates! Lots of new things have happened since you heard from us last! We have moved to a new location and we have all new barns. It's so much better.

Moon: A Pony in Search of a Job

For eight years I have known Moon. He had always been "the bad boy" of the barn not just in title, but in his actions. He's always been a very mouthy pony who gets joy out of seeing us humans get all mad at him for it. I've learned to walk past him and bend so my back is just out of his reach.

He isn't really a bad pony though, he's just bored. Moon has found his entertainment in bothering us as we go about our daily business, but he is not really a bad pony. I've had a few rare moments where he's been nothing but butter, where he has sought out my affections as I try to clean his stall.

Now, as I sit outside his paddock, I have a new opinion of this little pony. He's built like a tank, a solid mass of palomino "tough man" (He's actually quite a chicken for his bad boy attitude). I get a sense of loneliness from him. He doesn't really have friends. His few human friends aren't able to come every day and he can only have pony friends through the fence. Moon is bored. He's been in search of something to do for so long.

I've decided that I'm going to give him what he had been looking for-- a job.

Moon is an incredibly smart pony (aren't they all) and has been clicker trained before. Currently he has no one that can clicker train him and so I've decided that it's my turn to play with the barns resident "bad boy." I went in ready for him to be pushy, ready for him to be in my space, ready to lose a few fingers. But I was pleasantly surprised by how respectful and how gentle he was. He was excited, but he was also very in tune with what I was doing, how I was moving.

We were working on a circle, the start for shaping a free lunge. He was eager to walk along next to me, following his target, from cone to cone. He was very good, even offering a back up if he realized he was close to me while I was getting his treat from my pocket.

Today I was also teaching a new volunteer about clicker training and as I was going through things with Moon, I was explaining them. At one point while I was explaining things to the new volunteer, not really giving Moon any directions, Moon began backing up and kept backing up till I clicked and told him to come back over! At another point, while we were going around the circle, Moon was spooked by one of our little chickens. Big tough pony, huh? Moon jumped forward and his foot hit my leg in his attempt to launch away from the scary chicken. I stood still, didn't yell at him for bumping me while he spooked, I stood still and watched him. Moon turned right around and was in front of me, still a bit frazzled from the ordeal. He then stated to back up until he was about a pony length from me and when he stopped I clicked and treated. As Moon backed up, I saw the cogs turning in his head as he regained his composure. And then we went on like it never even happened! He is so smart. He not only gathered himself, but also realized how very close he was to me and fixed it without any direction from me!

Now as I sit here outside his paddock I get to watch him wander around, think through the game we played, trace the circle we made even though the cones are gone. He's by himself right now as his stall is being reinforced, all the others are in. Moon isn't alone though. I've decided that he not only needs a friend again, but he needs a job. And so, for the pony in search of a job, I will give him one.

-Aly

Goodbyes

Some days love is not enough. Love can heal hearts, but some days it cannot fix broken bodies. Love cannot stop when it is time to let go. Today we said goodbye to two of our beautiful mares. Bianca had been battling abscesses and laminitis and today she was ready, it was her time. It was something that we saw coming and we did all we could to keep her comfortable and we hoped that she would get better, but she was ready. She walked for the last time today, guided by our loving hands, and was surrounded by our hugs and tears as she was laid to rest. We found Rose down in her stall this morning and it was clear that she was ready to go, that she had laid down for the last time. We did all we could to get her up, to figure out what was wrong, but Rose was not scared, she was ready to go. With loving arms, we held her too as she was laid to rest. The two of these mares had not been friends for very long, but they had formed a bond. And with all the love that we could give them, it was not enough to fix them, but it was enough to guide them to sleep. Rest easy beautiful mares, it's just a blink of an eye till the next time we meet.

Smitten With the Kitten

The Kitten

I am smitten-

Smitten with a kitten

While kitten sittin’

Sweetest little pansy face

Butterfly ears

With curling lace

Put a band-aid on my pain

Gave me laughter

Once again

How did you learn

A life so new,

To make me fall in love with you

Little face with kitten smile

Made me forget

For a little while

Thank you Ollie

From your Auntie Nina

One Last Sad Story about Pip; Acceptance

Looking back now, I know my dear golden cat Pip was never really well. I am comforted in knowing that I gave him a great life, that my love for him will never fade away, that it was enough to keep him going for 12 years. I remember he would have “anxiety attacks” that would send him careening around the house as he desperately tried to escape his fear. When it passed he would lay exhausted panting, his gums blueish lavender. I knew this and tried to never let him be stressed. He would jump on my bed and I would tap him on the bum just above his tail. For some reason that made him feel better. His X-Rays showed that he had only one lung and it was full of tumors. His kidneys, in a matter of days, were huge. He was just too fragile to live in this toxic world. Even if I knew earlier, he could not have been saved. Dear Father Jehovah, how I miss this cat, I am so blessed to have loved him so much, but it is so difficult to live without him. I am truly broken this time. Nina

Dear Friends

Dear Friends, As I sat in the doorway of the barn, soaking my poor neglected feet in a tub of Absorbine and water, drinking a beer and reading “Master Harpers of Pern” (my little escape from reality), my six little hens hung out with me. They know they are safe when I am there. Their intelligence is just amazing. People really need to appreciate the wonders of the beings around them! Chickens—really!! I love my little hens—they feed me! Their eggs are extraordinary! My happy little girls! Gabriel, the KING of EOTS, has been exiled to the outside barn. He loves company, any company. The hens make him happy. They putter around under his feet and “ruffle” in their sweet little feathery huddle outside his stall. He is so gentle with all small beings. In his racing days he was probably surrounded by every kind of non-equine being who were companions of his fellow race horses. He loves everybody and everything living. Such a good old boy. Earlier, as I drove towards the barn, he “sent” me love. It made my heart happy. I know it was from him. Gabriel pushes me around, bullies me, bites me, and sometimes aims a kick in my direction. He treats me like a mare. He just loves me, though his love is often enough to flatten me if I don’t pay attention. He knows that I will scratch his itches, deal with his pains or complaints and cater to his every whim and need. I love him so. He is 27 years old, I will miss him when he leaves me, though it is often difficult and frustrating to be his “wife”. As I soak my feet, he stands by the fence keeping me company. He is just smitten with our vet Dr. Amy and our farrier Georgia. He just loves his human “mares”. I am not jealous. Seventeen hands and 1300 pounds can be spread around! He’s just so funny! He pushes us around, snorts, drools and slobbers all over us. I think we all feel somewhat honored. My beautiful silver stallion. “Hail to Thee”, race horse extraordinaire (aka Gabriel). He is now blind in his right eye; cataracts. He gets 3 feedings of hay cubes soaked in water and 4 small feedings of grain, all the hay he can eat with his old teeth, and he is still magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!! Even covered with mud, he shines like silver! Love-Love- in the hide of a stallion! Amen! Nina

You Just Never Know

Dear Friends,

I have been dealing with sorrow for so long I’ve forgotten how it feels not to be sad.

I have found comfort in the strangest and least expected place, with one of our two piggies. Hamish is 16 years old and Blaze is 8. I have never had the time to pay much attention to them. They are clean, well fed and cared for, but volunteers have always been the ones to give them extra attention. After all, I am the “horse person”!

We just moved them from inside the barn, where they stayed for the winter, back to their outside summer digs. I redid their sleeping quarters and fixed it all up nice for them. Now that they are older, they are having troubles stepping up into their “Pigloos” to sleep. As I sat on Blaze’s platform (it’s about 6” in height), he sauntered over and lay down beside me. With his gentle sprit, as if he knew he helped me. As I rubbed behind his ears, the soft pads on the bottom of his feet, and examined his tusks, I felt myself go to a place of peace.

With no demands, he offered me his quiet friendship.

Blaze grew up as a family pet. He was house broken and well loved by his humans. When the family was divorced he lost them all. His story is sad and it doesn’t matter anymore, but he has a piggy’s version of post- traumatic stress. He doesn’t handle change very well, but he just loves people.

While contemplating how to handle the “Pigloo” situation, I slid into the “gray place”. For a few minutes, Blaze and I comforted each other. Who would have thought?

I have loved horses all my life. I think it’s programed in my DNA. Their beauty, intelligence, and their absolute magnificence just blows my mind—but who would even have thought that a piggy could have such a beautiful spirit? Such ungainly, strange little mutants, funny little faces, sparse hair, and baggy little bums.

Do you know that they have no body odor? You can pet them all day and your hands will never smell? They are dear beings. Every bit as wonderful as horses or cats or dogs.

Really! Who would have thought?

Nina

The Babies of Spring

I found a nest full of meadow voles between our hay bales. These beasties will methodically destroy ever single bale. They don’t hibernate. They happily burrow through the bales, chewing through every single rope along the way all winter long. They eat, poop, and reproduce. A great deal of our stored hay is ruined.

                There were seven babies in the nest. They looked like teeny tiny puppies, all silky and velvety. They have teeny, squeaky baby voices. They have the same bones in their little hands as we do. They are intricately exquisite. I held one and rubbed it gently against my lip. It was so smooth.

                Setting it back down, I placed a handful of hay on the nest and left them so their mother to find and move to a safer spot.

                Really, what difference will seven more meadow voles make in the world in a family of millions?

Dear Friends

Dear Friends,

 

                I’m sorry I have not been able to write in a while and I’m afraid all you’re going to get from me today is sad stories. It’s just not fun anymore.

                On 10/28/14 Czardas was euthanized. At 31 years old, she reached the end of her life. We were no longer able to manage her pain. She had that “I’m exhausted and ready to go” look in her eyes, so I was there for the end of the life of horse number 31. My last gift to her.

                The list of deaths goes on. In January my most beloved cat Pip died of cancer—how did that happen? He was only 12. It took a month and he was gone. I cannot get past his loss. I cry every single day for him. I feel as if I have lost a child. I just cannot believe that he is just GONE.

                Gabriel fell down in his stall in March. It took us hours to get him outside as he thrashed and struggled to get up. He could not get up inside the barn. The floor was too slippery even though it is all rubber mats. We finally got him outside where he was able to get up on the gravel driveway. We were all beat up (us attending humans), as we cushioned him with our bodies. The muscles across my ribs still hurt and our vet was sure his ankle was broken (but it wasn’t thank goodness). Gabriel was a bit battered but not as much as we humans. He has been exiled to the outside barn that opens directly into a turn-out. He’s not all that happy about it but at least we can get him out of there if it happens again.

                The following day I came in to find dear old Solomon down in his stall, unable to get up. He too was 31 years old. Solomon was always so easy. He was stiff and sore from his past life but otherwise was so consistently well. He lived with us since 1999 and was never any trouble at all. I knew that his situation at that moment was very bad. We tried to get him up, but he just could not do it. His hind end didn’t work anymore. I have seen this in so many old horses on the last day of their lives. When forced to try to get up the just bash their heads on things and cause eye injuries. I did not want that for my dear, old, loyal friend. So I said, “Wait.” All our efforts stopped. “Solomon, my friend, your angel is here, I’m sure. If you want to stay here with me, get up on your own, if not I’ll let you go.” He looked at me one more time, closed his eyes, and sort of sank down with a deep sigh.

                And so I held horse number 32 as he left me in death. He was so beautiful. He never suffered, he knew I loved him and I want to believe his angel was there.

                Elliot my dear friend and barn cat faded away and was euthanized March 31^st. He was almost 16 years old. What a horrible two years this has been. They are all growing old. They’re all going to die of something, but I don’t have to like it. I don’t have time to get over one loss before someone else dies. I’m so SAD all the time.

                I wrote a while ago that I don’t cry anymore, well—that’s over. I never stop crying now. I miss my cat Pip so much. The Bible says at Psalms 45:16, “Jehovah is going to open his hand and fulfill the desire of every living thing.” The first desire I want fulfilled is to have my cat back—my Pipper, my beautiful golden cat.

                Gabriel has been unable to rise on three more occasions since that day, but he manages after a great struggle to get up on his own. Those times have always been at night. When I arrive he’s up but his injuries are worse each time. He was a burst melanoma under his tail that is difficult to treat as I think his tail was injured the first time he was down. This is the beginning of the end for him too. This will be impossible to deal with soon. He’s probably going to be death number 33 for me.

                I know these things were inevitable. All our young not ruined horses and ponies are fostered out to trusted friends. Due to the property being up for sale, I have only kept the blind, the geriatric, and the emotionally damaged here at EOTS, where I personally care for them. Crap is going to happen. Our vet bills this year have already been astronomical. We desperately need money. We need a new farm so our program can go on. This is a very bad set up. We managed to shovel off the roof three times during this hideous winter so we weren’t on the list of collapses but that surely gave me nightmares.

                The other day I found dead snakes in the well—I think someone’s messing with me—I need a rest.

Nina

My Pip

           

     In the last two years I have lost 6 beloved horses, my father, my friends Samantha and David, and my cat Elliot. But I am completely trashed over my cat Pip. He died in January and I can just not stop crying for him. What makes some so special?

                Pip was so tiny when found; he was about four weeks old. He was unable to clean himself, and though he could eat wet food he was almost helpless. For the next two weeks of his life he lived inside my shirt, right against my heart. I was his mommy.

                I would set him in the sink and gently wash his messy little bum under warm running water. He trusted me completely. I took him with me wherever I went. He loved riding in my truck. He would lay on pillows in the back seat and watch the world go by.

                We lived in a house where he was not safe. The person living there did not take my tiny kitten seriously. Doors were left open and he could have easily been stepped on. So I moved out.

                My brother Jimmy, bless his heart, took us in. There we lived for the rest of my golden kitty’s life.

                On a freezing cold January day, Jimmy thawed a foot of frost from the ground with a space heater and dug my dear cat’s grave. Thank you Jimmy, that is the greatest gift you could ever have given me, I will owe you for eternity.

                So my incredibly precious cat was gone—gone—from my life.

                Sometimes I cry, sometimes I whimper, and too often I scream. Every single day.

                Maybe I am borderline psychotic over his loss. I don’t know, I haven’t felt like this since I was a kid. I have many, many things to live for, but I can truly understand why people kill themselves over the loss of a pet.

                I want to believe that Jesus has to know how this feels. He lived for 30 years as a “common man”.  As a child he has to have had pets that grew old and died. The Bible says he experienced it all and passed every test that the human race must endure. I want to believe, as our King, that he knows how broken my heart is and somehow he will make it right. How could it possibly be any other way?

                So my beautiful cat has a rock on his grave and a white iris that blooms in the snow. That is all I have left to give him. His little body will go back to the Earth.

                I want him back—I just want him with me again. Amen.

The Old Men

Gabriel is a big spoiled baby. He is a thoroughbred stallion almost 17 hands tall and 1300lbs. As stallions go he is a pretty good guy. We have learned to live with each other. I call him my husband, we are like an old married couple. He has always tried to bully me. Now at 27 he has trouble eating hay so he gets hay cubes soaked in water. He loves hay cubes. The problem is he slurps them down so fast that they are gone in a few minutes. Then there is his head, smeared with green slop, over the door roaring, thumping and demanding MORE! He throws his head into my face as I walk by and rumbles his discontent at me. I try to ignore him. Not Easy.

I am dealing with Faith's blindness, her need to be medicated several times a day, worrying over her, just wanting to be hugging her all the time, thinking of how I can make her trust me enough to be her eyes. All the while being interrupted by the big baby Gabriel, shooting his negative, selfish energy at me. I scratch his itches, pick off ticks as he directs me to them by lifting a hind leg and pointing with his nose and grunting, as he shoves me to the spot. He vibrates so violently with pleasure when I find it that I can't keep my eyes focused on it long enough to pull it off without great difficulty. He has no trouble communicating his desires to me, some important, some just plain selfish. He is extremely verbal and obnoxious most of the time. When no one is looking though he lets me know how much he really loves me. He rests his teeth on my shoulder and nuzzles me gently. He likes me to sit with him at the end of the day and just snoozes as I watch TV. He nips me a little but does not strike or kick. He has no interest in breeding mares for some unknown reason so I don't have that to deal with. That is why he gets to live here. It is extremely dangerous to geld such a big mature stallion and we would never do that to him.

He is spectacularly gorgeous! Even though he's a very old man.
Thank Jehovah for hay cubes! Years ago horses died too young. After they could no longer eat hay they basically starved to death. There was just nothing back then to feed them that they could eat that was nourishing enough. Thanks to soaked hay cubes we can feed them well into their late 20's and 30's until “time and unforseen occurrences” catch up with them. They will, of course, die of old age but not starvation. Both my old men, Solomon (30 years) and Gabriel (27 years) live on hay cubes and 4 small grain feedings a day. They both look like a million bucks!
Solomon is just a good old guy. He has never been any trouble at all, he just goes on and on. Hopefully forever!
~Nina

Compassion Fatigue

             There is a very real problem with those of us involved with animal rescue, sanctuary work, and the veterinary field as well. It is called “Caregiver's Burnout”, I think I have it. For the last 15 years I have watched my beloved animals grow old and frail. I have been there to care for them every single day. I have held them in my arms for their last breath. My last gift to them. Some people think it gets easier each time you loose one, that's not entirely true. It gets harder as each new loss stirs memories of heartache. Each one adds to the last until you just can't.

           They come to us so broken. Their minds, their bodies, their spirits, so broken. I can so identify with them. Horses have Post Traumatic Stress, anxiety attacks and pain. None of this can be expressed in words. We can only guess, but I have been there too.
I have held the faces of 30 horses, that I can think of off hand, as they died. Not all of them were mine, but I felt that they needed to know that they were loved, no matter what. If their owners couldn't do it, I would.

            We have 10 horses and ponies left at EOTS, the four ponies are all young but the horses are between 24 and 31 years old. They are all broken beyond repair. I watch as each one grows older and fades away. Czardas at 31 is being provided with hospice care, any day can be her last. My beautiful Faith at 24 has just gone blind in her other eye. Auto-immune disorder I'm told by the vet. She went blind in her right eye four years ago, now her left one is gone too. My heart is so broken, at times I can hardly breath.

           We lost four horses in the last two years. At those times my mind somehow shifts me into what I call “the gray place”. This is new. I don't know how it happens, but I feel nothing. I go about the business of what needs to be done and manage to go on. When my own horse Fancy left me at 31 years old, I kept asking myself “Why don't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I've had this horse half of my life and I feel nothing...”I don't cry much anymore. It usually takes alcohol to get me there. I don't really want to feel anything, good or bad, staying in neutral is a good thing.

           Recently a woman who was an animal behaviorist committed suicide. Looking out at the world and the horrible atrocities committed against animals that are so wonderful and intelligent is sometimes too much to bear, knowing that there is nothing we can do about it. I guess she was too young to have found “the gray place” yet. So very sad.
        

         The best we can do is stay inside our own little bubbles, care for those within it and not look too closely at the horrors going on outside. Make things known to the masses. The the voice of the voiceless, and then, let it go. Feel comforted in the fact that you've done the best that you can, then hug your own animals.
          We are their care givers. We can try to find a way to go on if we can. Some of us can't.

Eye of the Storm Equine Rescue and Sanctuary

      Eye of the Storm is a horse rescue and sanctuary that has been in operation since 1999, housing between fourteen and eighteen horses at all times. We usually take in end-of-the-line horses that can live a long, healthy life with the help of people to care for them despite their infirmities. These horses would otherwise be euthanized or sent to slaughter. Most of our horses can no longer be ridden, due to blindness or career-ending lameness. One had post-traumatic stress, which caused debilitating nightmares and anxiety attacks from having been “trained” as a Spanish dancing horse. She recently died at age 29, in our loving arms. Like her, most of our horses remain with us for their entire lives or are fostered to trusted friends. We do not adopt out our horses to the general public. Most of them could not thrive elsewhere.

Pink during an episode of PTSD being comforted by her friend Aly

      We also educate the public on the plight of the unwanted horse as well as expose atrocities within the industry from a common sense prospective, through our blog and Facebook page. We are internationally known for finding a natural remedy to manage Equine Cushing's Disease. We are the longest running small equine rescue in the state of Massachusetts and are completely run by volunteers. 100-percent of all the money raised goes directly to the horses' care.

      Many young girls have grown up as Eye of the Storm volunteers. One is now a marine biologist. Another, Jessica has gained her license as a therapeutic riding instructor for people with special needs. She has discovered “clicker training.” This is how sea mammals and other exotics are trained; it is a reward system that works well on horses and gives them much-needed stimulation. Jessica, now an adult, is still with us and is a valued part of our rescue.

One of Jessica's rescues trained entirely with "Clicker Training"

      All our little girl volunteers have one of our horses or ponies as their special project to clicker train. So, from our teeny blind miniature horse Butterfly to our 16.2 hand Thoroughbred, the equines are learning new and fun things that do not require being ridden.

      Most of the girls who have come and gone through Eye of the Storm have been unique, artistic and creative people. Horses tend to ground us in an otherwise difficult world. Most of the girls have told us about their difficulty at school and with friends; some had formerly considered suicide. The horses provide them a healthy, safe relationship free of judgment or bullying. We strive to teach responsibility and compassion. So far, they have all grown up to be healthy, well-adjusted adults. Many start out doing community service for us, but end up staying for years. Horses and our girls thrive on their love for each other.

      One of our goals is to set up an area of the barn where these girls can feel safe and comfortable. We want a warm and nurturing place where they can do their homework while sitting with their favorite pony. We would like to be able to encourage them to pursue their talents and teach them that being a little different is okay. They feel valued because the horses need them. They would be welcome to stay with us long term, or just stop by when they need to.

Some of the ponies being groomed and "Clicker Trained" by the girls

      Our problem is that the property that we rent does not fulfill our long term goals. Our aging landlord is now considering selling off the property, leaving our horses homeless. It is an old chicken farm and the barn, built for chickens, is over 70 years old with outdated electric and water systems. (I routinely have to fish small wildlife out of the well.) There is no bathroom or caretaker’s living quarters on the property. We’re constantly trying to patch the barn and its roof, but sometimes it seems that it is only being held together by love. We really need to move before the situation becomes more dire.

      We want to rent or purchase a farm that fits our needs. Any grants approved will go into an account specifically for this project. Our target goal is $500,000. We, of course, still need to feed and care for our horses at our current location, but can no longer spend any money improving the building or fences.

      What we need is a place to house our horses, an onsite house or apartment for the horses’ caretaker, and money to hire a general handyman, hopefully a veteran.

      We are requesting any amount of money that you deem fit to help our cause. The sooner we attain our goals, the sooner we can set up our program to help all involved. We have proven that we are in it for the long term after being in operation for over fifteen years. Thank you so very much for your time and support.

Nina Arbella
Eye of the Storm Equine Rescue
www.equine-rescue.com

Not Another Sad Story, Yay!

       In my last article I was angry. In that state sometimes I get a little preachy, sorry. As I watched our beautiful Pink mare struggle in her last nightmare about the terrible abuse inflicted on her so many years before, I could only watch her and try to comfort her. I could not take away the horror that she had been carrying all that time. It was obvious she could not understand why so much pain had been inflicted upon her. What was the purpose? What was it that “The Torturer” wanted from her? It was obvious that her “training” was never completed, but what did happen completely shattered her mind and body. She could never forget, asleep or awake, she was haunted by the memories.

       Yes, I was angry. I hate being helpless, but I could not help her. Only death could take away her fears.

       Then, one day Jessica discovered “Clicker Training”. Ever a sceptic, I refused to believe! Why bribe a horse to do things that they should be doing anyway? After all we don't ask much of them here at EOTS. They only need to be respectful of us humans, stand for the farrier, move out of our space as we work around them, etc. For the most part they do all those things. In exchange we cater to their every whim and need. All of that works well enough – so there...

       Then along came Zephyr, my beautiful, incredible foal!! So kind, so good, with that “all the lights are on” look in his eyes, so focused on me, completely untrained. I knew the moment I saw him at 3 months old, just a little non-descript furball with sticks for legs, that there was something special about him.

       We got him and his mother, Thursday, in December and put them in a stall and did not have a chance to handle them much until Spring. By then Zephyr was bigger and untouchable. We managed to separate him from Mom in and ajoining stall and wrestle a halter onto his face, but he would throw himself over backwards if any pressure was applied. He also was still a stallion which comes with it's own group of problems.

I am 63 years old. I have been with horses every single day since I was 12 years old. I knew how to ride a horse before I ever actually rode one. Horses and I have always “known” each other. I have seen the progression of “training” methods in this country grow and change. From the tie them down, to bucking them to a stand still, to terrorizing them into a “safe place”, and all of the other stuff in between. I watched as the “natural horsemanship” craze kicked in, some of it was just a more updated version of cruelty practiced through the ages. Through it all many horses actually learned stuff, from “trained helplessness” to spinning in tiny circles on one hind leg until their bones and muscles gave out. Ever obedient slaves. All of it just a testament to their ability to learn, no matter how brutal.
To me “clicker training” was just something else to add to the list of training fads that have come and gone in my life.

Well through the years I have made a multitude of my own mistakes. Through ignorance and a seriously insane temper, I have instilled fear and probably caused a few nightmares myself. Not knowing any better is the worst excuse of all, at least for me. Though most humans would not agree, I am not like that anymore, for the most part. Most humans are not able to live inside my energy field but the horses seem to like it. So do I. The horses know they can count on me (almost) all the time.

I always felt there had to be a better way, that communication was the answer. But how? Horses have always been more intelligent to me than everyone else thought. They have been kind and patient for a very long time, though you can see the frustration in their eyes while trying to “explain” to us stupid humans. If we take the time to look, there is always a reason for their actions.

And so here I have this brilliant foal, a pure clean slate, a sponge to sop up all the good on the bad of the world. Here too, is another chance for me too, to do it right this time. I felt this way about Viking Too in the beginning, but his spirit is Loud!! His actions are violent and he and I never “clicked” (forgive the pun). He is a horse for a younger person to deal with. Jessica who is 24 years old is taking him to her new farm in Maine. They will have a blast together. I am too old to be yanked around by the likes of him!

The quiet, gentle spirit of my Zephyr is more my speed at my age. I am so charmed by him. With his huge liquid eyes and the softest nose in the world. He came along just in time to help with the heartache of loosing 4 beloved old horses in the last year.


Now Jessica is my teacher. It was really hard for us to swap roles. For the last 10 years I was the teacher. But she has discovered the thing that I believe I have been searching for all my life, a way to communicate with non-humans.

I watched the kids play the clicker game with their chosen ponies at EOTS and thought it was cute. The ponies responded and were taught to target and do little tricks. I still wasn't particularly impressed. When I was their age, unburdened by glimpses of mortality and the ability to ride any horse at all. Horses that willingly did anything I asked of them, I needed more convincing.

Enter Zephyr. I had no control over him what so ever. Though we had some kind of bond from the very beginning, he was still not halter trained but very excited to learn things with me. But where to begin? So Jessica said “Why don't you just teach him to stand still?” … “Huh?” was my intelligent response. So Jess taught us our first lessons in clicker training. I am now a believer. In less than one minute Zephyr was politely standing next to me with his head turned slightly away, a click and a treat and he would have done that all afternoon!

This came in very handy when the huge oak tree over his barn needed to be trimmed and he stood beside me for an hour while chainsaws screamed and huge branches swung from ropes while a man was strapped to the tree high above us. He was afraid at first, but the clicker game was definitely more rewarding and as I calmly stood there he felt safe. At that time he also learned to hack up. All of this took place without a halter or lead rope. He has since learned to walk beside me at the proper distance. We continue to progress together.

He has now been gelded and is ready to move into the main barn where there are lots of mares. I could no longer put it off. At 1½ years old, he had to be halter trained. With no real trouble at all, using the lead rope as a “target” if he began to get confused, I get his focus back by asking him to touch the rope with his nose.

All that I know about clicker training is what Zephyr and I have learned together. Jessica is becoming and expert.

And so just when I thought it was over for me, as I waited for the last of our old horses to die so I could quit, a new chapter begins. I guess you really can teach an old nag new tricks!

When I remember out poor beautiful Pink and all the horrors she survived during “traditional training”, I am so sad. This needs to be a new chapter for us all. Horses don't have to be terrorized or forced. We owe them the chance to show us what they can really do by this form of communication.

Letter to the Torturer

I just want you to know that Pink hated you to her last breath, who ever you are.

She was soft as a kitten and the color of pink cotton candy. She should have belonged to, and been loved by a little girl all her life, but she wasn't.

She was tortured by you. She tried to dance for you during her episodes of Post Traumatic Stress, we saw the anxiety come into her eyes when she remembered you. She would lift her legs, one, two, three, four. Then she would growl, roar, and kick out, she would bite the wall in rage! You think you broke her? Well you're wrong!

I saw her when she lay down for the last time, the ligaments in her legs gone. I watched her dream about you. I saw her kick and strike and bite you over and over again. All the years that went by, but she never forgot you. I pray that during this very last dream she finally killed you.
I sat at her head and petted her face, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes, I told her that I had her back and I would protect her from you while she slept in peace until the very end.
And so, Torturer, in the end, she won. She fought you one more time. Her spirit so strong that you could not break it.

She now is peacefully dead. Safe from the memory of you, never again will you haunt her. Awake or asleep she could not escape the memory of your abuse. It is over now.
And so all you others out there that think it's okay to abuse “dumb” animals, all you who think it's okay to maim, cripple or mutilate them in the name of sport, fashion, or “tradition” - cutting off dog's ears, horse's tails, horse tripping, bull and dog fighting, abusive “training” practices, the soring and tail breaking of the gaited horses, Spanish “dancing” horse trainers, Rollkur, etc. - Do you really think animals are so unaware? That this is acceptable? Really??

Well Mr. Torturer of Pretty in Pink, you are a Loser! This dear sweet soul responded to our love, she chose a human to be her very best friend. She loved her Aly. She came to us emotionally damaged and mentally shattered, but she never stopped hating you. Do you think horses don't have emotions? That they don't remember their enemies? Well, with my own eyes, I am a witness that you are dead wrong!

 

And so, soon, justice will be served. You will not be torturing horses much longer. I pray that you get to face the sins you have committed against Pink and. all the others that you have “trained to dance”. And to all the other torturers out there, you will pay. Very, very soon it will all end. There will be justice for the innocent ones, for none of them belong to you. They are the possessions of the creator of the universe and he is watching you! “revenge is mine, I will repay, says Jehovah” (Romans 12:19) All of the chapter eleven of the book of Isaiah describes the paradise to come concerning animals and humans “they will do no harm or cause any ruin in all my holy mountain”. At that time all the torturers will be judged. Where will you stand?

Poor innocent, beautiful, little Pink mare, may we find her again in paradise, untainted by fears, horror, and hatred of the torturer.

Just Another Sin Against Horses

There is a well hidden part of the horse business that not all horse people know about. I do no know all that much about it myself, but what I do know is ugly. There are places that keep pregnant mares that can be rented to “adopt” foals other than their own. They are called “nurse mares”. Now that sounds sweet doesn't it? They are used if a client's valuable mare rejects her foal, dies or can not produce milk to feed it. Still sweet, huh? Sometimes the client's mare is a show horse and needs to go back to work immediately after foaling and is not allowed to raise her own baby. In this case they rent a nurse mare and somehow get them to foal at the same time as the client's mare. The nurse mare's foal is euthanized. It has no value. It is the law, I'm told, these foals are not allowed to be rescued and bottle raised. They can not be transported into the state of MA. All foals less than 3 ½ months can not be moved without their mothers. The dept. of agriculture is working on the “unwanted horse” issues. This is the beginning. This dirty nurse mare secret is being exposed. Somehow though, I think people with too much money and not enough compassion will find a way around this little glitch. To continue to enable this horrible business ny trying to rescue these foals, is wrong, it is very difficult to bottle raise a new born foal. I'm sure most never get colostrum (first milk, full of antibodies) from their mothers. This means, basically, they have no immune system. They need this milk within the first 12 or so hours of life. After that they can not absorb the anti-bodies.

I have a solution to the “nurse mare” foal sacrifice problem. This is so simple I don't know why no one ever thought of it before. Now don't get me wrong, I do not approave of this business. I think it is just one of the “carbunkles (boils) on the backside” of the horse breeding industry. But if it has to be, I think is a large mare is bred to a very beautiful shetland, welsh pony (or otherwise) stallion, that big girl could not only feed the customer's foal, but her own teeny tiny baby as well.
One of the best kept secrets in the equine industry is that any pony (under 14.2 hands), especially typy pretty ones can be sold to A circuit people for thousands of dollars! I'll bet a weanling of this coupling could easily bring $5000 at the pony auction in (I think) Virginia? Once a year this auction takes place, all they sell is ponies and reps from very fancy stables are there to purchase for their clients children and students.
Combine the personality of some big, gentle warmblood or draft horse mare and the size and spunk of some fancy American Shetland and a really nice baby with looks and gentleness and personality will be the result. I've seen 14h A circuit ponies go for $40,000 or more!
I hate the whole idea of the breeding of too many horses. The foals of nurse mares can not be bought across state lines into MA. Bottle raising foals is very difficult. They need their mommies. According to “the law” these foals must be euthanized. Don't know all the details, don't want to. Just another sin against horses. But, if it's going to happen, this is a seriously great solution. These foals would have the chance to go on living (what kind of “horse person” would allow this to happen anyway?!) The baby would be valuable, could stay with it's mother and grow up with his adopted sibling, seems like a win/win situation to me.
This mare would have plenty of milk to nurse both foals, plenty of colostrum, the foals and mom could be a mini-herd. Socialization would not be a problem. Foals will learn to be horses from each other, no spoiled brats to deal with and beautiful baby to be sold for lots of money plus the adopted foal will probably be more successful as a horse as well.

I guess I said it before, but I really hate the nurse mare business. But this could work so well for all. Poor little babies...
Nina

Man Vs. Animal

When did torture, cruelty, and murdering of animals comes into fashion? Anyone seen “Swamp People”, “American Hoggers”, or “Turtle Man”? Why isn't it against the law in every state in this country to use dogs to hunt down and attack any animal, even feral pigs? For the hunted there is no escape.
What about “Turtle Man” who catches “problem” wild animals with his bare hands, all the while screaming at them as he terrifies them in a small area from which there is no escape. Obviously these “encounters” are staged. These animals, for some reason dont just tear this man to shreads, they only want to get away.
Then there's the “Swamp People”, somehow they trap alligators, haul them over the edge of their boat and shoot them to death before our very eyes. What do they do with them after they execute them? When did alligators stop being protected? Is this legal? Do they eat them? Most of those killed are huge. How can even their thick armor like hides be used for anything?
How can it be alright for horribly mauled and mutilated feral pigs, still alive, be allowed to be stacked on top of each other on their backs (literally “hog tied”) on racks of ATVs, possibly for hours while these people get their load filled? The dogs used are often terribly injured as well. Not just men, but women too are involved in these blood baths. They think of themselves as quite awesome.
I know that this crap has probably been going on for years but for some reason not they are filmed and put on public TV for the world to watch. Even the horrible documentaries of how animals kill each other for food on every nature channel, all life and death struggles in nature for all to watch. What has become of the human race that such “Entertainment” floats their boat?

With the death of beautiful, gentle, Steve Irwin, who treated all creation with reverence, love and respect, these horrible documentaries have become rampant.
Much of the human race has lost their empathy. With the dawning of computerized animation where “anything goes”, and the horrible is excepted because it isn't “real”, the creation is suffering. Are humans no longer able to separate animation from reality? Blood lust has overflowed from video games, “cartoons” and movies making these horrible reality shows and documentaries acceptable because people often can no even see the difference.
Let me tell you now, Jehovah, creators of the universe and all living things, the owner of us all is watching. We will be held accountable. He gave us permission to eat animals, but not to kill, maim or torture them for sport or fashion. Not even a sparrow fall from the sky without his knowing. Think about that! MT 10:29 Jesus himself said this!
I know I sound preachy, but you know, this must be told. So very soon there will be an accounting – and no power in the universe will stop it. God's kingdom is coming. We are living in the last days. Each night while watching the news, can count on my fingers the Bible prophecies being fulfilled right now! Soon wars will cease to the extremities of the earth – wars between humans and between animals. These is so much more involved than can be written here in this article and all have the right to make their own choices, but time is running out. Justice is on horizon – the storm is coming.
~Nina

Rest in Peace, Dear Fancy

Eye of the Storm lost Fancy on December 5, 2013. She was 26 years old and likely had cancer. She was a lovely girl and will be missed. Below are some photos of her in the snow taken back in 2011.

Please see the donation button on the left to help support the friends Fancy left behind. Thank you!