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Archive for the ‘On Writing’ Category

Spot the Blind Horse

Spot, the blind horse I wrote about last December who was featured on the front page of the Chestnut Hill Local and served as my first blog subject, has gone to a better place. Even in the end, he was still teaching us lessons.

Spot was a nearly 30-year-old horse, who belonged to nobody and everybody at Northwestern Equestrian Facility (NWEF) in Chestnut Hill. He was a lesson horse for many years, carrying many riders on his back while he patiently tried to obey and understand their commands. Spot got his name because his undercoat, which you could only see when it was wet, had big brown spots show through his white overcoat.

In more recent years, Spot’s eyesight went and he was pretty well blind when I stumbled upon his story last fall. I had been doing a story on the Wissahickon Horse-lovers Organization for Adults (WHOA), when I took a break from the meeting and walked through the barn to clear my head. That’s when I saw Spot and a notice on his stall door that he was blind and that donations were being sought for his upkeep. The boarders at NWEF were carrying his load, which averaged about $500 per month. I wrote the story, sought donations, and placed a laminated copy of the article on his stall door. And then I visited him, and visited him, and visited him, and brought others to visit him. I took my good friend, Gina Pio Cossman, and her college age daughter to visit Spot. We ran him around in the ring and let him graze and groomed him. After interviewing Lisa Levinson, Zipora Shulz and Jim Harris for a story on their animal awareness group, Zipora and Jim asked if they could meet Spot. I took them to the stable and we fed Spot carrots. They giggled like little kids as his whiskers tickled the palms of their hands. They were very grateful to have connected. There were dozens of small children who would come up to me while I had Spot out to graze, and I showed them where he liked to be touched and told them his story.

Since I wasn’t riding regularly, I would carry horse treats in my car, along with some hard-toed boots, stopping in to see Spot several times a week. Sometimes I took him out, sometimes I groomed him in the barn. He was happy for the company. So was I. Everyone said how nice it was that I was giving him some attention; but they didn’t realize what he was giving me in terms of animal therapy. I had the honor of relating to this gorgeous animal, and on bad days rambling a bit about my woes. I got to stand with him in the sunlight and recharge from a hectic week as he grazed on green grass and we welcomed an occasional visitor. I got to groom him and smell like a horse for a couple of hours. I also got to write a lovely story about my friend. I got a lot from Spot.

I had written an initial draft of a story on Spot, and was returning to the barn with photographer Denize White-Christiansen, who lives around the block from me in Flourtown, when we stumbled upon a bigger and sweeter story. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and students from the Crefeld School were there on their weekly visit to take care of the horses. I talked to Gabe Pfeiffer, a 17-year old blind student who attends the school, and the article turned into one about what the sighted community needs to know about blind horses and people. He told me what would seem like common sense; don’t walk up behind a blind horse or person without announcing yourself softly. Spot, through Gabe, was still teaching.

This past Friday night I stopped by the stable after helping people get to ‘their stories’ during a Public Speaking Boot Camp for the Main Line Chamber of Commerce. I shared Spot’s story with the group and encouraged them to write down their stories about pets and people. It had been an exhausting day and week, and I really wanted to go home. But Spot’s spirit drew me toward NWEF. When I went in, I saw a sign on his stall stating that he should not be taken out of his stall unless Kathy, the barn manager, gave the okay. Not a good sign.

I tentatively knocked on her apartment door. Eventually, she opened it and told me that Spot had fallen earlier that day, and that they may have to put him down over the weekend. I went back down to his stall and groomed him from his head to hooves. He seemed to enjoy the grooming and didn’t seem to be in much distress. But the next morning I went to feed him apples and he wouldn’t eat them. He seemed scared and afraid to come close to the stall door. I told him he was a good horse and that if he had to go, we would understand. On Sunday morning, as I walked down the long aisle to his stall before the Wissahickon Day Parade and Horse Show, I was half expecting to find an empty stall – and frankly I was fine with that. The horse I had visited the previous day was not in good spirits, and I suspected he was in pain. Having been through this life/death scenario a few times with people and animals, I knew that putting an animal in distress down was the most humane thing to do; hard, yes – but also humane. Spot tentatively took some carrots from me, but it was clear he just wanted to be left alone. It was raining. I understood and let him be.

On Monday morning, I got a call from Denize asking me not to go to the barn until I had called her. I knew what this meant, and indeed, she broke the news, gently and lovingly. I told her I was okay and that I had said my goodbyes to him. Sometimes we aren’t so fortunate. She had not been so fortunate.
I later learned that Julie Goldberg, the Executive Director at NWEF, had spent the morning with Spot, giving him plenty of carrots, grass and love. His last moments were filled with mouthfuls of fresh grass, as she whispered to him and let him pass to the Rainbow Bridge.
When I got home at 3 pm, I did lose my composure when my sweet 9-year-old Golden Retriever, Simba, greeted me at the door with his tail wagging and a ball in his mouth. Simba (and Spot) made me realize that we only borrow these furry, hairy and feathered (and human) friends. We connect with them on so many levels, and one can only hope that when our time comes it will peacefully and that we had a chance to say our goodbyes.
Thank you to everyone at NWEF and beyond who took care of Spot for many, many years. I only knew him for a short time, but I am a much better person for having connected with him. Thank you to Len Lear and The Local for helping spread Spot’s story.
Thank you, Spot, for teaching us this final lesson about growing old with dignity and knowing when your time has come. You will always be a great lesson horse – and one who will be missed by many.

If you would like to make a donation to help pay for Spot’s final veterinary bills, please make checks payable to NWEF with Spot in the memo field, 120 W. Northwestern Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19118.

Post Script: I had one green apple left in my Jeep. I always carried apples and carrots in the vehicle for Spot. Upon arriving at the barn late in the day after Spot had gone to the Rainbow Bridge, I decided to cut the apple in half and without thinking, gave half to Goober and half to Jasper, two horses who have no single owner – they too are lesson horses and owned by NWEF. The next day, Julie Goldberg e-mailed me to suggested I ‘don’t become and stranger’ and visit two other lesson horses in need of a little TLC. Their names: Goober and Jasper. Coincidence? You be the judge. I think Spot had a hand (or hoof) in it.

As I was standing at the ‘Hearts for Haiti’ fundraiser at Scoogi’s Classic Italian Restaurant in Flourtown this past week, with a glass of wine in one hand and a plate of Haitian-themed food in the other, I couldn’t help but think how the population near the site of the earthquake would not be eating these kinds of foods anytime soon. There were steaming chafing trays of grilled shrimp on skewers, red beans and rice, a seasoned chick pea side dish, fajitas, and several other creative concoctions that Scoogi’s Chef and Owner Rob Rosato and his staff took the extra time to prepare.
Groups of Rotarians from the Conshohocken-Plymouth-Whitemarsh Rotary, the primary sponsor, came in to eat and catch up with up with fellow Rotarians. They were soon joined by Springfield Rotarians and members of the community. The atmosphere was somewhat celebratory on the eve of the fourth major snowstorm to hit this area this winter. My mood was a bit somber. I stood off to the side and reflected, tasting the food and watching a slide show about the ShelterBox program. I thought about how a Haitian would have been happy with some warm red beans and rice. I learned that a ShelterBox is a plastic box that contains a 10-person tent, thermal blankets, insulated ground sheets, multi-fuel stove, cooking utensils, tools, water purification equipment, waterproof ponchos, mosquito nets, and a children’s activity pack.
Eventually I sat down at a table with Flourtown resident and Long & Foster realtor Linda Geisler. Geisler explained that she had listened to a National Public Radio piece about the ShelterBox program recently, and the next day she saw a photo and caption in the local paper about the Rotary event and it’s goal of raising enough money for at least one ShelterBox. The kits run about $1000. The Rotarians raised just over $1200, with the help of donated food and space from Rosato.
“The timing was perfect. I had heard the NPR piece and then read the information in the paper and thought I’d check it out,” said Geisler, who lives on nearby Valley Green Road.
During our conversation, ShelterBox volunteer Bill Decker came around wearing his ShelterBox shirt and handing brochures. As we were chatting, I realized I knew Decker through his role as a Partner of The Hub, a company that has meeting spaces for rent in Center City and at the Cira Center by 30th Street Station. I commended him for coming out from behind the desk and volunteering for such a worthy cause. He has been doing so, he shared, for the past three years. According to the ShelterBox brochure, ‘on any given day, more than 12,000,000 (million) people worldwide lack adequate shelter.’ So this cause did not start and will not end with the people of Haiti. Now there are the victims of the more recent earthquake in Chile in need of shelter.
I then took a photo of Decker, Rosato, and C-P-W Rotary President Stephen G. Schoener, who also had is also another ‘can do’ kind of guy. It turns out that Schoener, who by day is a Finance and Insurance Executive by day with Zurich, based in Berwyn, doesn’t even live in Conshohocken, Plymouth or Whitemarsh. He had lived in the community at one time, but he and his wife moved to West Chester more than a year ago. That’s nearly an hour away.
“I had made the commitment to head the group this year and I felt I needed to stand by that decision,” said Schoener.
I then went to visit with Mary Shaub, a C-W-P Rotarian who lives in Lafayette Hill who got me involved in doing some publicity for the fundraiser. She thanked me for my efforts and pitched me on buying $10 worth of raffle tickets for a basket of cheer. I quickly handed over a $20, thinking again how Haitians would be lucky to be drinking fresh water in parts of Haiti this evening.
As I left Scoogi’s I thought about how difficult it would have been to create the fabulous foods Rosato and his staff cooked with the items from a ShelterBox. The people in Haiti would have been grateful, I suspect, for just the red beans and rice. My heart goes out to the victims of Haiti and the good folks locally who helped send one more ShelterBox to the earthquake-ravaged country. You can still make a donation by going to www.ShelterBox.org.