ANIMAL MEMORIALS 2012
Each and every animal who resides with us on the farm is an important part of the whole family. Each one of them comes and touches our hearts and leaves memories that we cherish. Death is a part of life, a natural transition and process. Being an animal sanctuary we deal primarily with elder care and hospice care and, in that process, we are with most of our animal family as they pass from this realm into the next. It is sometimes very difficult, sometimes very hard, sometimes a shock, and sometimes it is an expected passing. But it is always an honor to be with them and to share in that most sacred moment. Here at the farm, it is an event that
our whole staff shares in. Each animal who dies is given a memorial service and burial and whoever of our staff wants to participate, brings with them a parting gift to be buried with that animal. Whether it is some flowers or their favorite blanket or treat or toy, it is our way of paying them tribute. We laugh together. We cry together. But mostly we are there to share with one another the depth to which each animal has touched us. We share aloud the things they have taught us and the stories and memories we will always have. It is a chance to honor their heart and soul and a chance to thank them for sharing with us. It is an opportunity to say good-bye and to send them on their journey with our love and best wishes.
It is from this perspective that we share these memorials with all of you. These are not presented for the purpose of sharing sadness. While we do feel sad, the reason for sharing these memorials, is to impart to all of you a small piece of what we have been given as gifts from all of these animals. It is our way of thanking them for being here with us and to acknowledge them and share them with the world. It is a celebration for who they are and the mark they have left on this world.
City Chicken - January 25, 2012
City Chicken was an extraordinary chicken! She was a huge soul in a tiny chicken suit. She got her name when she came to the farm after having lived in someone’s apartment in the city. It wasn’t supposed to be her permanent name, yet somehow it stuck. It was a name she wore like a badge of honor. She was the chicken from the big city who came out to the country and showed us another kind of chicken experience. City Chicken stood out in the crowd. She wasn’t like the other hens. She had a mind of her own and a sense of leadership and authority that was incredible. She watched over this farm, and we mean EVERY aspect of this farm, the entire time she was here. We joked about putting a sign out front that said, “This farm is protected by City Chicken.” She was not nasty. Not at all. She led with great benevolence. There wasn’t a person on this farm that did not know City Chicken and run into her somewhere on her daily patrols around the farm.
One of our fondest memories of her took place on the day our new skid steer arrived and we all were being given a safety and training class on how to use it. There we all stood around the machine while the gentleman who delivered it went over all the instructions. All of a sudden, we hear “cluck, cluck, cluck” and around comes City Chicken to stand in the circle with us. But first, she had to do her own safety inspection. She walked around the skid steer looking at it very carefully. She went and pecked the tires and then clucked her approval and told us to “carry on” with our meeting, and off she went to continue her daily jaunt around the farm. Chickens do not usually leave the flock and go off on their own, but no one told that to City Chicken. And even if she had been told to stay at home with her rooster and tend to her flock, she wouldn’t have listened. She was a liberated hen and she was committed to making sure this farm ran smoothly everyday.
All of our chickens are as important as any other animal on the farm, but none has been missed as much as City Chicken is being missed today. When the staff came in this morning they found her very peacefully leaving. It was simply a matter of old age. As she put it, "I'm tired now and its time to move on." She left big chicken feet to fill and so far no one else seems interested in her job. City Chicken however reaches out from spirit to give us one more message and order. “My mission is not complete and I shall return. Keep a space for me and I’ll resume my watch some fine day.”
We are waiting City Chicken and we’ll leave the light on for you.
Smiley - January 22, 2012
Smiley was a large and magnificent Standardbred gelding. He came to us almost 20 years ago after a career in racing left him partially blind in one eye. Over the years, he went totally blind in that eye and partially blind in the other. Smiley was a steady horse. He was still able to run out in his pasture with his herd who looked after him. Watching him zoom around on the hillside with his friends, you wouldn’t know he was nearly blind. Two mares, Bo and Gypsy, were his special buddies. When we lost Bo two years ago, we worried how Smiley would do. But Gypsy stepped right in and remained by his side.
Smiley was a character but he was dependable, trustworthy, and honest. He was solid and he had a heart of gold. He cared deeply for his friends and he loved retirement and being in his herd. He loved this farm and the pasture in which he spent his final years running, grazing, rolling, and napping in the sun. It was a good rest after a long run and he was grateful to call our farm home. He also was grateful for his human caretakers. Smiley had recently had some problems with one of his legs and he had to be treated every day. He was always a gentleman and always grateful for whatever we did for him.
Smiley was a horse who lived quietly. He wasn’t the loudest or the fastest or the one to stand out in the crowd. But he was everyone’s friend. He held a place of respect in the herd, most recently lending his maturity to our young gelding Shawnee as he found his way into the herd. He had a sort of quiet wisdom about him that you just kind of knew there was more to him than he let on. He was loved beyond measure by his horse and human friends.
We were totally shocked today when Smiley suddenly collapsed and within 30 minutes was gone. Our vet thinks he may have had an aneurism. Whatever it was, it happened quickly. He died with grace and dignity with all of us around him. He left and joined another herd awaiting him in spirit. Old friends with whom he used to run and play with here on the farm. We are sure his old friend Bo was right there waiting for him, as she always did, and that they could run together once again. We could feel 
him run free and know that he was leaving our loving embrace and going safely into the loving embrace of old friends. But it still didn’t lessen the shock we all felt from his passing. The space he occupied in our barn and in our hearts was large. His herd already is missing him. And his most special friend, Gypsy, is very much grieving his loss. He was the last of her original friends. Our hearts go out to her as Smiley reaches back from spirit and asks us to support her as she has done for years for him. Thank you Smiley for all of your graciousness, for your friendship, for all that you taught the horses in your herd and the humans who cared so deeply for you. You are in our hearts forever.
The top photo is one of our favorites. It was taken by professional photographer Suzanne Gold. She asked him if he wanted his picture taken and this is the pose he struck. We had never seen him do this before, yet when she gave us this photo, we all laughed because it was so Smiley. The second photo is Bo, Gypsy, and Smiley heading out to pasture.
Ramone - January 11, 2012
Ramone has been an inspiration and shinning example of how a soul can grow amidst adversity and heal in ways that are imperceptible to the eye. Four years ago, Ramone was brought to us one night just as we were closing. He was in really bad shape. We were told someone had found him dragging himself into a gas station. It looked as though he had been hit by a car. It was in the dead of winter, sub-zero temps and he was matted and in very poor condition. We took him the next morning to a specialist who confirmed his back was broken. He was bowel and bladder incontinent and could not walk, although he had deep pain perception in his back legs. We took him back to the farm to see what quality of life he would have and what he wanted to do and how HE wanted to live. Much to our surprise, Ramone showed interest in trying to use his litter box, which signified to us that he must have some awareness of when he had to use it. We outfitted him with a home made sling and began trying to support him. We noticed he would try to use his legs. What began then was a rather intense physical therapy type regimen using lots of holistic techniques including homeopathy, energy work, TTouch and more. Weekly, we could see his progress. By 8 months later, he was walking, running, playing, leaping, climbing, jumping and fully bowel and bladder continent. He lived like any other normal cat. The 10% of spinal cord that he had functioning was somehow compensating for the 90% that was impaired. It was a true miracle.
Ramone captured all of our hearts and raised the bar for miracles at Spring Farm by a mile. He was an inspiration. He lived with directors Margot and Dawn in their foster cat room. He had humans who adored him and lots of cat friends. And then, one day seemingly out of nowhere, he very aggressively attacked one of our employees. Dismissing it as a freak occurrence, Ramone lived on as king of the room. Until he attacked two other people in the course of a couple months. This once loving cat was suddenly turning out to be quite nasty. Then he started getting nasty to other cats. His behavior became more severe and we were concerned that it could lead to a severe quality of life issue for him. For everyone's protection, we put him in a small pen where he was separated from the other cats and where we could monitor his access with people. We feared this was no life for this free spirit and considered euthanasia, something we never take lightly for sure.
But Ramone shifted dramatically once in the pen and actually once again returned to his contented, affectionate self. However, we also began to notice a slight decline in his mobility. Over a period of months, his balance began to falter and then he began to once again drag his back legs, and once again became incontinent. But the mean cat who everyone feared, became the gentle giant we all adored once again. It is speculated now that he may have had some sort of pain or neurological episodes that caused the aggression. When we took him back to the specialist just weeks ago, he determined that he no longer had deep pain pereception. This time, Ramone was not going to recover. But Ramone loved his nursing team. 
He adored being bathed (something usually cats hate) and loved and cared for. And we watched him shift and grow into a cat who radiated love and peace. He told Dawn that he wasn't ready to go yet as he was thoroughly enjoying his time, but when he was finished, he would quietly slip out. He told her not to worry, that it would not be a difficult decision that we'd be facing. However, we knew it would be a difficult decision because of how much we grew to love him.
Ramone gave us the most amazing gift at the end of his life. Yesterday afternoon, he was found laying on his side in his private room not wanting to move. He wasn't paralyzed, he'd lift his head and follow us around the room. He wasn't in distress or pain. But we all knew somehow that he was at the end of his time with us. He purred and purred as we took turns holding him. And then he went to sleep and didn't wake up. It was exactly the way that Ramone lived his life - totally on his terms. We all cried for the gentle soul who graced our lives. A cat who learned so much in his lifetime and grew enormously as a spirit. He showed us miracle after miracle from his life and his passing. Fly with the wind Mr. Ramone, you will never be forgotten.
