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The Ladies Of Our Mims   Horse Rescue Issues

Started by Weldon54; 246839 views.
Weldon54

From: Weldon54

12/15/07

Isn't she beautiful?!!! Stay tuned. There's more to come!

Msg 7 of 6977 to GuestGuest 
In reply toRe: msg 4
Weldon54

From: Weldon54

12/15/07

Glad you liked it! I have lots more stories of the ladies!

 

Guest

From: Guest

12/15/07

Thanks Kelly. The ladies are so special. Each one is unique with takents all their own. Funny, how each horse teaches us something new.

I am excited about sharing the ladies with you all. Just wait till you meet them!

Guest

From: Guest

12/15/07

Thank you for posting this.  Our Mims is about an hour from me.  Jeanne wrote a letter to the editor of the local Harrison County Cynthiana Democrat appealing to the 'powers that be' in that county to make their animal control officers responsible for following up on horse neglect situations; basically to do their job.

I have been meaning to give her a call, as I would also love to meet these grand old gals at Our Mims.

Thanks again for posting these wonderful photos.

Deb

Guest

From: Guest

12/15/07

Oh, she was indeed, beautiful. To this day I look at her and say she was the most beautiful horse that ever lived, I guess it's ckear that we were meant to be together.
Msg 11 of 6977 to GuestGuest 
In reply toRe: msg 9
Guest

From: Guest

12/15/07

Wow, Deb, you saw that?
In reply toRe: msg 5
Weldon54

From: Weldon54

12/15/07

 

OurMimsGroupPicNov2007.jpg The Ladies of Our Mims picture by fsweldon

My Turbulent Miss, Taba, Iza Valentine, Exactly So and Jamra

 

The Making of the Haven

By Jeanne Mirabito

 

When Our Mims arrived on my farm on February 2, 2000, I knew I wanted to create a retirement home for older horses. I knew the need was there and, sadly enough, I’d have the only such facility for miles. I set about turning my old run down tobacco farm into one fit for horses.

The tobacco barn was perfect. Each of the 14’x14’ section would make a nice roomy stall for an old horse. Plenty of room for arthritic bones to turn around in and best of all, clearly marked perimeters for me. I had never picked up a power tool in my life, let alone built anything.

I hired a carpenter to build the first stall and watched him like a hawk. Then tried to imitate what I saw while building stalls two, three and four. A kindly neighbor built the fifth stall. I reluctantly hired another friend to build thee rest of the stalls. Looking at our barn, you may have a good, hearty chuckle. The walls are a bit crooked. The stall doors do not match and sometimes things are held together with baling string. But the horses are happy, so who cares?

When Our Mims passed on December 9, 2003, I was devastated. My heart shattered into a million pieces and I just didn’t think I could go on. I spent weeks in tears with such a deep pain in my chest I was actually seeing a cardiologist. One cold January night I made a decision. It was all too much. I just couldn’t take the pain and I decided not to go through with my plans to have a retirement facility. I had nine full stalls. I had several foster horses for adoption groups, a few riding horses and a couple of elders. I would keep these but once they were gone, that would be it. I would not bring another horse onto the farm.

Through tears, I told my husband of my decision and for the first time in weeks, I fell into a deep sleep.

That night I had a powerful dream. I dreamt I heard Our Mims calling me. I ran out the back door, through the gate to her favorite grazing spot and there she was. Oh, how I cried, touching her all over, telling her how much I had missed her. Through the magic of dreams I realized she was talking to me, really talking. She very sternly told me to quit crying, she hadn’t gone anywhere. Mims explained that silly humans just refused to see that the veil between our world and the next was very thin. My friend said she was always by my side; she hadn’t left me and never would.

Our Mims made it clear that she needed me to be quiet and listen. I had a job to do and if I couldn’t do it for me, I needed to do it for her. Mims told me she was disappointed with my recent decision; there were many mares that needed my help, those who I would touch directly and those who would benefit because of her and I. Mims said, "Right now, there is someone very close to me that needs you. Go get her and put her in my stall." With that I awoke.

I could SMELL her everywhere! On my hands, in the air, all around me. I shook my husband trying to wake him. I couldn’t rouse him; he just mumbled something about me not showering before bed. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, wondering what the dream meant.

The next morning I opened my email only to find a note from my friend, Barbara Livingston. Barbara wrote, "Sugar and Spice, younger sister to Our Mims, out of the same dam, Sweet Tooth, is in need of care. I think the owner may be willing to give her up. Would you be willing to take her?"

I felt like I had been hit with a ton of bricks…someone close to Mims needed my help. I think my response was, "who do I have to kill to get her?"

It took some time, emails flew here and there. A few missed connections and dropped messages later, and FINALLY we got the go ahead. On May 7, 2004 a very weak Sugar and Spice stepped off the trailer and into Our Mims stall. And yes, there was no exaggeration; Sugar was in desperate need of TLC. This beautiful mare would not be with us long; she was clearly a hospice case.

Oh, what a sweet Sugar she was. No morsel of food passed her lips until she thanked me first. She’d lay her head against my chest and chortle the sweetest sound I had ever heard. Every tender touch she received, she returned. It seemed like she wanted to make sure I knew how grateful she was.

And she did heal! Her carefully planned diet had her eyes a sparking and we were showing marvelous progress in covering her ribs and hip bones. Her skin lesions healed, her coat glowed. She even ripped all her sister’s pictures off the barn wall!

As quickly as she healed, she went downhill. I watched with dismay as our friend slowed down. Her eyes lost their shine. She stopped diving into her food. The vet checks revealed nothing out of the ordinary. She was simply what I have come to call "fading." Then on September 13, Sugar laid down for the last time. It was quite obvious she had enough of this world. There is something in a horse’s eyes when they are ready to go. They very clearly ask. Sugar asked, and like a good friend, I respected her wishes. Before the vet arrived, I sat on the ground cradling Sugar’s head in my lap and promised her I’d take her home to Calumet. Upon hearing "Calumet" her eyes lit up one more time. I looked her in the eyes and promised, ‘I’ll take you home to Calumet." Sugar and Spice raised her pretty head high enough to snuggle into my chest and chortled. Of course, my heart aches for Sugar but her presence in my life was a healing presence. She gave me the courage it will take to complete the task Our Mims gave me.

Several nights after we buried Sugar and Spice I again dreamt of Our Mims. She told me to go get the others. "There are five," she said, "Put exactly in my stall."

Ok, so I was irritated. I asked her what she was talking about. I somehow knew she was talking about Sugar’s pasture mates but what did "put exactly in my stall," mean? Irritated, or not, I learned a long time ago just to do as Mims said, so I made the necessary call and yes, there were five horses in Sugar’s old field. Yes, I could have them.

One by one, I walked the mares onto my trailer. First Iza Valentine and Jamra. The second trip I was walking a pretty chestnut onto the trailer and asked, "Who’s this?"

The farm manager replied, "That’s Exactly So."

I wasn’t a bit surprised when that mare walked off the trailer and directly to Our Mims old stall.

 

 

 

  • Edited 12/15/2007 6:12 pm ET by Weldon54
Weldon54

From: Weldon54

12/15/07

 

OurMimsJeanneMimsStanding.jpg Our Mims, Jeanne & Mims Standing picture by fsweldon

Jeanne and Our Mims

 

Why we do what we do at Our Mims Retirement Haven

By Jeanne Mirabito

Photography by John Bellucci

 

People often ask me why I take in old horses knowing full well they have little time left on this Earth. Those close to me worry that I constantly set myself up for heart break. I have searched for the proper response and can only answer, "How can I not?"

I wonder about people who have to ask. Can they not see the need? How do they look into those big, brown eyes and ignore the sweet butterfly knickers of an old mare? Some look at the slow movement and see ugly decay. I see more. I see careful placement of hooves. Some may want to brush only the coats of young horses where a few quick strokes brings a fast shine. I prefer to relish in hours of grooming and watching an old coat come to life again.

And yes, they come to me old and bent. Their knees hurt, they are often underweight and neglected. More times then not, we serve as a hospice and the best we can do is restore their dignity. But the mares we touch leave this Earth knowing they are loved. Each one is special with her own unique spin on life, her own personality. Each mare deeply influences how we view the world.

We are rich for just having known them.

 

Msg 14 of 6977 to GuestGuest 
In reply toRe: msg 9
Weldon54

From: Weldon54

12/15/07

I'm sure the ladies would love to have you come for a visit!

Just remember to take Stud Muffin's. That's the price of admission!   They take turns working the admittance gate! Just kidding. ;)

 

In reply toRe: msg 14
Guest

From: Guest

12/15/07

We believe in treats!

The five mares in the picture with the Making of the Haven story are the five from Sugar's field. I love that picture, They look so suspicious, "What the heck do you think she wants this time?"

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