Preface by Annette Fisher, Happy Trails Executive Director: 

About four years ago, Timi and Ed Sullivan said the words that every animal rescue organization longs to hear. "Who do you have that's the hardest to place? That's who we'd like to take!" 

Seriously?  I couldn't believe what I was hearing!  Happy Trails always has the hardest time finding caring and loving homes for either special-needs animals or the elderly. We had two older horses (in their late twenties) who had been together for most of their lives. They simply adored each other, and Token, the gelding, was starting to lose his eyesight. Polly, the mare, was his seeing-eye dog so to speak, and he would follow her around and depend on her for his security. Timi and Ed agreed to adopt them both, and help them to retire in the lap of luxury.

These horses had in-out privileges of their stalls and their barn, and they could wonder out into their immense pasture area whenever they felt like it. They had their very own servants (or so the horses thought) that would show up and brush and groom them throughout the week and bring them goodies and treat of all kinds. Timi was orginally drawn to Token, but in the end, it was Polly that stole her heart.

Timi writes columns regularly, and it just so happens that before Polly left us for greener pastures on the other side, Timi dedicated a column to Polly which we would love to share as a tribute to a wonderful horse and the truly remarkable people who adopted her. Enjoy!

By Timi Sullivan, Horse Lover and Compassionate Animal Person

Everything I need to know about growing old, I’m learning from

Photo of Token and Polly compliments of Amy Sancetta, personal fan of both horses!

Polly.

Polly, you may recall, is the 34 year old horse we adopted about a year ago from the Happy Trails Farm Sanctuary.  Polly is a natural blond, and like most blonds, she’s held her looks well. Her flaxen mane still blows seductively in the wind and her velvet brown eyes are fringed with long, pale eye-lashes that she can bat with the best of them. But there are also signs of age. Her back has a definite sway and there’s not much junk left in her trunk. Her right front knee is so swollen with arthritis that it barely bends at all, causing her to drag her leg as she moves slowly through her days.

When Polly came, I didn’t know how long she’d last. I just hoped we could give whatever life she had left some quality. I needn’t have worried. Polly knows how to get the most out of every single day.

All winter long, and remember, we had a really tough winter, Polly insisted on spending most of every day outside. She had a choice. She could always go in; but she obviously relished both the cooling snow and the warmth of the rare winter sun on her back.  Now that summer is here, she spends more time inside, standing in front of the fan Ed mounted in her stall, munching on hay and avoiding the flies. But several times a day, she ventures out and explores every inch of her small barren paddock seeking out the tender blades of fresh grass that spring up after every rain. Her companion, Token, gave up on the grass long ago and chooses to subsist on whatever is provided for him. But not Polly. Polly knows she was born to graze and graze she will as long as there’s the slightest chance of success. Polly also knows how to mix business with pleasure. She plans her route with stops at every low-hanging branch. If you want to see sheer bliss, stop by and watch Polly, eyes closed, rubbing against a tree.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with Polly. After all, I knew this was a short-term commitment. But somehow, a while back, Polly convinced me that she really prefers her morning grain hand-fed from the bucket. Up until then, I jetted my way through morning tasks to get to my desk as quickly as possible. But now, I start every day standing perfectly still, gazing into those big brown eyes, admiring (with more than a little envy), those amazing eye-lashes, and listening to the satisfied sounds of Polly eating breakfast. The experience grounds me – at least for a little while. And later, as I head out the driveway, all stressed and thinking that I’m too old to be working as hard as I work or the task I’m attempting is just impossible, or my arthritis is killing me, I look over, and there’s Polly, dragging that foot as she works her way around the paddock in search of grass that may or may not be there that day. If she can do it, surely, so can I. And so, I vow to live like Polly, to keep moving as long as possible, to connect with the people in my life, to explore every inch of my paddock, never to miss an opportunity for a good back rub, and never, ever to give up on dreams of grass. And yes, I have fallen in love.