Major - December 21, 2009
Major moved into Spirit today, just the way he told us he wanted to die. Major came to SFC one year ago for help with a severe respiratory ailment. We knew his stay with us most likely would not be a very long time, but we welcomed him to our herd and he quickly won our hearts as if he had been here his whole life. That was the type of guy that Major was. He belonged to one of our employees, Rhett. When we heard about the difficulties he was having last fall, we offered to take him in at the farm since we knew we were set up to deal with his extensive care. Our loving barn crew made his final year a good one and they miss him already. During his time here, he was also best friend and eyes, to TJ, a blind Quarter Horse who depended on Major as a buddy out in the field. They are pictured above, Major on the left, TJ on the right.
Major had been a part of Rhett's life for about 8 years. He was loved and cherished and told us that he spent his entire life feeling loved. Major easily made friends, both human, and equine, because of his loving and soft nature. He was a favorite in our humane education programs when kids came to visit. He would often let children pet his soft muzzle and loved the attention.
When we knew the end of his life was nearing, Dawn checked in with Major about his end of life needs. He told her that he was going to die gracefully on his own when he himself was ready. We didn't think that would be the case as breathing problems can be very difficult. But Major had the last word. He died exactly the way he lived, on his terms, surrounded by people who loved him. When we saw that his condition worsened, we called our veterinarian to be on stand-by in case he needed help. He had had little crises before and we always knew that someday it would be his last one. But before we even needed to make that decision, Major took treats from Rhett, spent time with his cherished barn staff, and then quietly lay down, breathed a contented sigh, and died. We were stunned. He did it just the way he said he would. He leaves behind his special family - Rhett, Todd, and Glenn. His cherished barn crew, Steve, Josh, Mallory, Jamie, Joe, and Adam. And his beloved horse companions TJ (pictured with him above) and Addie.
Deelight - October 25, 2009
Today we lost another of the founding horses of Spring Farm CARES. Deelight, age 24 years, came to us when she was just four, before we were an animal sanctuary, and while we had a small breeding operation (before we saw the light!). We had her mother, Deeteza, already at the farm and were trying to save this particular blood line from dying out. For those of you who know Arab breeding, Deeteza was a Witez II granddaughter, thus Deelight a great-granddaughter. We bred Deelight once and got a colt who we named Meloudee. Three generations of this magnificent family was a triple blessing for us. All of them carrying within them strength, endurance, and most of all a sensibility and gentleness that is incredible.
Deelight’s passing took us all by surprise. Although she was in her mid-twenties, she looked and acted at least 10 years younger. She was full of Life. She could be stubborn at times (certainly a family trait) but was pure gentleness when she let you in to her inner circle. She was a strong mare but with a quiet presence. Over the years, she has seen many of her friends pass on before her. And now she has left behind friends who are mourning her loss today. We will never know what happened except that late yesterday afternoon she showed some signs of colic. It didn’t seem serious at first, yet we couldn’t resolve it. Our veterinarian stayed for a couple of hours last night doing several things to help. Bonnie monitored her through the night, but by this morning we knew that nothing we were doing was helping. All of us knew what we were facing and we tried to deny it at first. Deelight is so strong. She is so alive. How could this be?
Deeteza, her mother who passed away in 1994, was one of the greatest teachers to ever have lived on this farm. She is one of Dawn’s guides for all of her teaching work. Deeteza frequently visits Dawn in the form of a Red Tail Hawk. This morning, as Dawn was walking with her dogs in one of the fields, thinking about what we would all face this morning, a Red Tail Hawk suddenly appeared directly over-head. Close enough for Dawn to hear the wind rustling through its feathers. “I’ve come back for her,” the hawk told Dawn, “you’ve held her well and now its my turn to bring her back home. We will fly together, and you will see us.” Just then a second hawk appeared and in tandem they followed Dawn and the dogs for the entire walk around the field. Dawn knew at that moment that Deelight was ready to go, and that Deeteza would be there for her in spirit.
Just before she passed, Deelight let out a nicker, the sort that horses make as they greet their friends. We knew she found them quickly. And as we walked out of the barn, two Red Tail Hawks, circled the farm together and then flew off.
Deelight leaves behind her son Meloudee, her pasture mates Tina, Topaz, and Buster, all of whom miss her dearly already. She also is missed by her beloved human caretakers, two special guys in her life Steven and Josh who had extra special connections with her, and Kim, Mallory, Joe, Adam, James, and Stephanie. Bonnie, Dawn, and Margot thank Deelight for all the years of her life and heart that she shared with us on this farm, and for helping to guide us to where we needed to be. We will forever be blessed by her. As always we thank Dr. Leigh Lain for her compassion and understanding as we helped Deelight move on peacefully. There is an emptiness in the barn today that is enormous, but we know that our hearts are still filled with Deelight. Fly free girl, and don’t give your mother a hard time!
Isabelle - October 24, 2009
Isabelle the beloved bunny, passed away today after sharing with us the amazing last few months of her life. Our bunny lady, Joanne, rescued Isabelle in the middle of a snowstorm in January, after someone called and reported a white rabbit hopping around in the snow. Isabelle had been hopping up the concrete porch steps of a house, looking for food and shelter. Joanne brought her to the farm but by the next day, Isabelle was showing signs of lameness in her back end. X-rays showed nothing alarming but we all watched Isabelle quickly decline. Something was obviously wrong. It was suspected that she had some nerve damage and an inflammation along the sciatic nerve. We tried many different things to help, including chiropractic care and the use of laser therapy etc. But Isabelle gradually lost the use of her back legs.
In August, Joanne realized how lonely Isabelle was and she took a chance and paired her up with an amazing bunny named Ducati. What ensued was like the most touching love story we have seen. Ducati would tend to Isabelle's every need. If she flopped over, he would help her sit back up again. They would eat together and groom one another. They were an amazing pair and Ducati's love and attention, brought a whole other level of life to Isabelle. She began to thrive. Her human caretakers gave her amazing love and care, allowing her to happily live her life like she obviously still wanted to do.
Isabelle was spunky, with a great appetite for life. She is greatly missed. She left behind her beloved friend Ducati, and her human caretakers, Joanne, Bonnie, and the special two-legged man in her life, Todd. She touched the lives of these humans in very special ways and they will never forget her. She told us after she left that she would watch over us. And we know she will.
Phoebe – October 15, 2009
Today, we lost one of the grand matriarchs of Spring Farm. Phoebe was a large spirit in a small, but feisty, duck body. She lived a life uniquely different from that of most ducks. She was the Spring Farm office duck.
Phoebe was brought to us in February of 1994. She was full grown on arrival. So, at minimum, she was 16 2/3rds years of age. Phoebe was a bright light in this world. Her cup overflowed with character. Opinionated? Check. Determined? Check. Sense of humor? Check. Loving? Double check.
Besides grieving human friends, Phoebe leaves her dear companion, Merlin, African Grey Parrot, who shared her room for the past 15 years, and who was often to be found perched on the side of her nest. She also leaves two other roommates, cat friends Natalie and Hero. She was pre-deceased by cat friend Red Hawk. At her funeral today, 14 humans showed up to honor her. In Phoebe’s own words, “That’s not bad for an old duck!”
So many humans have been touched by Phoebe over the years. All of us who shared in her caretaking absolutely, unabashedly, adored her. She would snuggle and give hugs by wrapping her wings around your shoulders and nuzzling your cheek. She would sing and dance to music and to certain favorite “duck” songs that she would ask Bonnie to sing for her. “When the red, red robin comes bob, bob, bobbin’ along” was a particular favorite. And she would avidly watch cartoons on TV (no, we are not kidding) but we never let her use the remote control. We all have our own favorite “Phoebe” stories. Today at her memorial, we told some of them, all of them making us laugh. Phoebe loved the sound of laughter. Whenever we laughed, she would quack along with us, sounding as though she was laughing, too.
During the past couple of weeks, for the first time in 15 years, due to work being done on her quarters, we had to move Phoebe and her nest out of her room and up to the big hall of the main facility. Here she suddenly found herself surrounded by lots of staff people she had never had the opportunity to interact with before—all of whom she proceeded to charm. Then there were the visitors to the hall. One of the stories told at today’s memorial concerned a 12 year old girl who visited just last week. She had never touched a duck, so we picked Phoebe up and let the girl hold her. Phoebe curled up in the girl’s lap and went to sleep. The girl sat beaming from ear to ear, her life being magically touched by Phoebe Duck—as so many before her had been touched.
Each year that we have had Phoebe has been a gift. Shortly after she came to us back in 1994, she was attacked by a horse. She amazingly lived to tell about it, but she had a badly broken leg. The first vet who looked at her said, “Oh boy, this doesn’t look good.” One of Phoebe’s feet was facing forward and the other one was facing backward. Phoebe’s comment to Dawn was, “We know it doesn’t LOOK good. So fix it. Just fix it!” The vet recommended euthanasia. Phoebe was appalled. “Fix it! Just fix it!” she demanded of Dawn. We found a second vet, who could do surgery on birds. It was a 2 hour trek to that vet’s office. They couldn’t believe that we would drive all that way just to save a duck. But they hadn’t met Phoebe yet. Once they did, they, too, were smitten, and caught up in Phoebe’s own feisty determination. Several surgeons gathered together to learn from the experience as they rebuilt her leg. It took weeks of rehab. And she did regain limited use of the leg. But not enough to be released outside where the larger male ducks would jump on her all the time.
Thus, she became our office duck. During the summer, we’d take her out to graze on grass and to swim in a kiddie pool in the yard. During the winter, she’d swim in the tub. We made her a nest out of the bottom part of a giant dog size vari-kennel, taking the top and door off so that she felt free. She was wonderfully content.
She died peacefully this morning. Oh, how we are going to miss the soft cluck that greeted us each time we entered her room.
Shortly after her death she told Dawn, “Do me a really good memorial. Tell everyone about how many people loved me. Because that is what I came to do in this life, and I did it well. I am proud of that. Not bad for a duck, eh?”
FRANCIS - 8/2/09
Today we said farewell to the gentlest of giants. Francis came to us with his 6 siblings and his mother, Ginger, when he was only 2 days old. Ginger, a 35 pound yellow lab mix, was a stray, found under someone’s porch, having just given birth. She was picked up by animal control and taken to be euthanized along with her newborn pups. But the vet hospital who received them for euthanasia just knew that Ginger, who was incredibly sweet, would be very adoptable. They also thought since Mom was a smaller size, that the puppies also would be small and easily adoptable. They called us and we took them in just the week before Thanksgiving, 1997. Ginger indeed was as sweet as they come and through various ways, 3 of her puppies ended up living here at Spring Farm. However, it should be noted that the “smaller size” of their mother had no influence over whoever their dads were (as we are sure there were multiple fathers to this litter.) Suffice it to say, that all but one puppy by adulthood weighed in at over 80lbs. Some were over 100 lbs.
Francis, whose dad must have been a wolfhound, was adopted as a young puppy by Dawn and Margot when he proclaimed that if he couldn’t stay, he quite simply was going to die. Dawn and Margot weren’t looking to add another dog to the four they had at the time. But Francis stayed true to his word. He began to not thrive and he withdrew from his mother and siblings. It was clear that he was going to die. Dawn and Margot gave in and told him he could stay. Within 24 hours, he was back to being a lively, bouncing, healthy puppy. It was coercion but it worked.
So much could be said about Francis. When we were looking for just the right name for him, he told Dawn that he needed to stay at the farm 
because he came to be here and that he was a guardian spirit of the farm and the land. Dawn was telling Bonnie this one morning and Bonnie said, “Francis would be a good name. That was my grandfather’s name and he is such a guardian of this farm.” Then Margot came in, not knowing of Bonnie’s conversation and said to Dawn, “I’ve been thinking about a name for this puppy and I think we should name him Francis after St. Francis because he has such a loving energy.” So Francis it was and he was indeed both a grounding force and guardian of the farm, as well as an absolute saint.
Francis will most be remembered by us for his soft, gentle, loving being. There were so many times we walked in a room to find one of our cats sleeping on top of the big fuzzy giant. Every one of the female dogs just adored him and literally fell at his feet and rolled over, or snuggled up to him and licked his big fuzzy muzzle or his huge paws. He was literally adored by all of our animals. He raised several special needs puppies and kittens and we would watch this 85lb dog try to make himself as small as possible as not to scare them when they first met. Just two weeks before he died, he got to spend time with our two five week old puppies Tucker and Grace. Grace has a neurological problem, possibly a defect in her brain, and is rather delicate.
Francis saw this about her right away and true to form, adopted her as his special project. We didn’t know that today would be his last day with us, but one of our fondest memories we will cherish was seeing him sitting upright on our porch this afternoon, looking out across the farm he loved, with little tiny 9 lb Grace sitting identically next to him. She looked up at him and wondered what he was looking at, so she looked too. He looked down proudly with a kind of smile he always got when looking at a youngster, and she reached out with her tiny paw and placed it on top of his giant paw. That one gesture summed up a lifetime. And we are happy for Grace and Tucker that they got to spend some time with Uncle Francis before he moved on.
We miss you Francis, Puppy Puppy, Fuzzy man. You truly lived your life with grace, kindness, dignity, and honor. A legacy you passed along to every puppy and kitten in your care.
LAMOKA BO - 5/5/09
The loss of Bo is an overwhelming shock to our farm. Bo was like bedrock - strong, dependable, trustworthy, and reliable. It was as if she carried the energy of the farm in her heart and with each heart beat she kept it circulating throughout the grounds. She was large in stature, a whopping 17.2 hands high, and had the softest and most easy going personality in the world. Bo was the epitome of gentleness. She was the herd leader, which is a role of incredible importance to the horses and the farm as a whole. She was mother to Tutti. Life long friend to Gypsy. Best friend and eyes to Smiley, who is blind, and set his entire bearings to Bo’s presence. She was solid. She was loving. She was a friend to each and every one of her caretakers who are now grieving in her absence. And her herd is grieving deeply, and right now, is pretty lost, a feeling we can all share in by just walking into the barn.
Bo lived on this farm for 22 years, well before Spring Farm CARES was even born. She is one of our founding horses. She was 27 years old, still young for what we are used to here. She had never been ill in all those years with us. Her passing now was a complete shock.
Bo with friends Gypsy and Smiley
Bo was a Thoroughbred, bred to be a race horse. But, as we were told when she came here, her breeder quickly determined after her first race that she “couldn’t run fast enough to hurt herself.” Luckily for Bo, she was then sold to try her luck as a jumper instead of meeting the fate of so many race horses who don’t make the cut and are sent for slaughter. Her size was impressive but, unfortunately, she wasn’t good at jumping either. Bonnie first met her at the farm where she was being tried for jumping. It was love at first sight and when she came up for sale, Bonnie had hoped to get her. But the sale price was way more than Bonnie could afford. Then Bo and the “universe” collaborated and Bo’s life, and ours, changed forever. Bo was a great escape artist and could open any stall. One night, someone forgot to secure her door and she not only let herself out but then let the other show horses out of their stalls too. Disaster ensued as the mares began parading by a stallion and teasing him all night until he coliced. Luckily, he recovered, but it sent her owner to the phone to call Bonnie and tell her that if she still wanted Bo, he’d personally deliver her now and at a much reduced rate. Bonnie took him up on the offer. At the time, we were not yet Spring Farm CARES and we had a small breeding operation. Bo was bred once and gave birth to a colt, Tutti, who we still have here at the farm.
Soon after Bo’s arrival, we became a retirement home for horses, rather than a breeding farm. We learned just how over-bred horses were and the fate that they were meeting by the hundred thousands being slaughtered and we realized we needed to be on the other side of the equation. As the “universe” works, we got called by Bo’s breeder who was retiring an ex-race horse/brood mare, and wanted us to take her so that she didn’t go for meat. That mare ended up being Bo’s mother, Four Bales. The two mares were reunited at our farm. The reunion was incredible and we stood with tears in our eyes as they greeted one another with obvious glee. They were then inseparable and lived together as best friends until Four Bales died of old age. We had three generations of this magnificent family. All three were gentle giants. Tutti is now the last one remaining.
Bo, in her younger years, was a real clown. Dawn nicknamed her “Bozo” and the name was befitting. She was known to the other horses as not quite being as “smart” as some. That was never said with any judgment. It was just a fact. Bo would get lost in the pasture at night and start screaming, bringing Dawn out in the middle of the night with a flashlight to see what was wrong. As soon as she’d see Dawn she’d run to her and say, “I can’t find them, they are gone!” Dawn would scan the hillside with the flashlight and there they were, the whole herd, just a hundred yards away, and not one of them letting Bo know they were there. But Bo would be very grateful and run off to join them. This scene repeated often until Dawn finally berated the herd for being so cruel to Bo and for getting her up in the middle of the night continuously! But Dawn then realized it was Bo who thought that calling Dawn out there was quite amusing. There was the clown again. Four Bales used to tell Dawn that “intelligence is obviously not inherited from the mare.” But all this was said with great affection, for everyone, from horse to human, loved Bo. She was an innocent in the world. Maybe not as smart as some, but as kind as they come. What she lacked in brain power, she made up for ten fold in heart power.
Over the years, something amazing happened with Bo. One by one the head mares began to age and die and the torch would be passed to the next one. Until one day about 10 years ago, Lady, the head mare, passed away unexpectedly. The herd was devastated. There was no natural lead mare and we watched to see what was going to happen. Much to our surprise, Bo accepted the position. She then grew to being much less clownish and much more noble and wise. We watched Bo mature before our eyes. She began sharing with people in Dawn’s workshops and would offer them great wisdom. So many times people came to workshops who were afraid of horses and they were drawn to Bo’s stall to talk to her. Bo was fantastic with people who had never been near a horse. Her size was intimidating but her gentleness and peaceful nature beamed from her. People instantly felt safe and secure around her.
Bo was indeed like a large rock. She was so solid and when we put our arms around her and hugged her, it felt like we were one with the earth. She was a mountain for all of us to lean on. Today, that mountain left us, and all of us are reeling. Ten days ago, Bo had sudden onset of a breathing obstruction. It was assumed that she had a massive allergic reaction to something. Luckily, our vet was on the farm at the time it happened and treatment was gotten to her immediately. Once the drugs kicked in we thought she’d be ok. Oddly, Bo never panicked through the whole episode. She was still able to get enough oxygen. The problem however returned the next day. The medications helped again but not as well and Bo still had some remaining breathing difficulties. We were able to determine what was mechanically happening to cause the problem in her larynx but we never knew what caused the problem to start with. The drugs started to help her after several days and all of us were hopeful that she would recover. She was having longer and longer stretches of normal breathing and fewer episodes of trouble. Today, we suddenly heard her breathing outside in the pasture and it was acute again like the first time. As we brought her and her herd into the barn so that we could treat her, she got in her stall and suddenly collapsed and died. Her heart apparently gave out. As we knelt with her and held her massive form as she left, it was as if the very bedrock of the farm waivered. Her horse friends looked on in disbelief.
The lead mare has moved on and the herd now looks for guidance. It will be awhile until they can regroup. In the meantime, horses and humans alike, will look for our next leader. This time, we are the ones calling out into the night, unsure where our lead mare is. Bo told Dawn, “just bring the flashlight and you’ll find me like you always found the others for me. Be the flashlight for them, they will find their way.”
That’s the wisdom we came to know from Bo. The heart of kindness. The wisdom of the universe. We are sure there are many members of our ghost brigade welcoming home their dear friend Bo. We are sure this time that they are not hiding from her and that once again they are all racing through the pasture together. Our loss today is their welcoming joy. Stay close Bo, we may not see you, but we know you are here.
TIPPY - 4/7/09
Tippy was a giant soul in a 5 pound Rat Terrier body. He was 21 years old when he quietly passed away in his sleep during the night. While we are all deeply saddened by our loss of not having him around, we are all happy for him that he could go so peacefully when he was ready.
We think that Tippy was the prototype for the Eveready Bunny. He just kept going and going and going. He enjoyed every minute of his life even when we couldn't figure out why or how he kept going on. Tippy was with us for 18 months. He was brought to the farm by someone who found him in the middle of a highway in a small town. Blind and deaf, stiff with arthritis, and covered in fleas, we wondered how he possibly could have gotten there. We made calls to local vets and put ads in papers and the next day we got the call from his people. He had wandered out of their house and yard and they couldn't find him. They assumed he had gone off to die. They told us that they were going to have him euthanized as they could no longer care for his aging needs. We offered to give him a retirement home for as long as he had left. Tippy clearly was not yet ready to go and was just bursting with life and character. Our staff cleaned him up and brought him back to health and Tippy found his second wind. He'd sometimes stumble and fall over but he always got back up (sometimes with assistance) and just kept on going again. We put him in with another blind dog, Sasha, a maltese mix, and the two of them got along famously. He made a lot of friends while he was here and sure touched a lot of lives.
Tippy may have been small, but the hole he left behind is extremely large. We could all feel it when we walked into the large Kigercat Hall where he resided. Sasha in particular misses her friend. We are grateful to have had the opportunity to know him and to love him. Bonnie last tucked him in his bed and checked on him at 3am. When she came back just three hours later, she found that he had passed, never having stirred from where she left him. We know somewhere in spirit, they just welcomed back a now spry and supple little dynamo who is probably giving them all a good run around. He was a spitfire for sure and we all miss his presence.
JEREMY THE JOKER
"MOOSE" - 3/23/09
Today our hearts are filled with sorrow for a being that was with us for such a short time but who touched our hearts and this farm as if he had been here his whole life. Moose was a horse who was genuinely kind and his kindness radiated from him. All of us felt it from him the second he walked off the trailer at our farm just four days ago.
Moose wanted to get to Spring Farm with great passion. Although we may never fully understand what it was he needed from being at the farm, we are sure that he left us with more than he took. The story of how he got here would take longer to tell than the time he spent with us, but it is filled with miracles and magic. Moose had been a client of Dawn’s for several years. Dawn was unaware of any special bond with him over the years but in the last weeks of his life, a connection became very obvious. Dawn received a call from his person that she was going to have to have Moose euthanized after he sustained a very bad neck injury that left him unrideable and unstable in his hind quarters. When Dawn connected with him in a consultation, Moose was VERY clear and strong that he wasn’t ready to die yet and in fact needed to live longer. Dawn has had hundreds of calls like this over the last 20 years and doesn’t just offer to take animals in at the farm. If we did that, we’d be over our heads in no time at all. In fact, Dawn has had over 38,000 animal clients and, in that time, Moose is only the fourth animal she offered to take in. But Dawn just knew instantly that Moose needed to come to Spring Farm. When she mentioned it to his person, it was like every step fell into place to get him here to the farm. He arrived within a week of that consultation. We had hoped we’d have him here for years with us, but Moose apparently had other plans.
Animals come here to the farm for many different reasons. Some come to learn, some come to teach, some come for safety until they can find where it is they are going, and some come to die. Sometimes their coming here is about something they bring to us, sometimes it is about something they need from us, and sometimes we really don’t know why. But in all cases, we share moments with each other that are priceless. Before Moose arrived on the farm, Dawn connected him energetically to the Spring Farm horses. The night before his arrival, when Dawn closed down the barn, there was genuine excitement in the air. The horses knew he was coming and they could feel him. Amber Donkey told Dawn not to worry about his trailer trip because they would all help him energetically to get here. They understood something about Moose that we didn’t understand. They completely understood what his need to be here was about and they began giving it to him before he even physically arrived.
It was clear that Moose wanted to die on his terms when he was ready. He wanted the decision to be his and his alone. He was clear with Dawn on that. And while we did offer him that ending to his physical existence in this form, that is not the whole story of why he was here. Usually when we write a memorial, we call on all of our memories of the animals who we are mourning. Some of the horses have been with us for 20 years or more and we have many memories to call upon. But Moose was only here for 4 days. Our barn manager came in the barn in the morning to find that Moose was lying down and couldn’t get up. It was clear he wanted to get up and we began to try to figure out how to help him. We have had downed horses before and if they can get up, we can get them up. He was clearly comfortable enough, but he just couldn’t get up. As we talked about various ways to help him, he gave another try to get up and clearly could not do it. We watched him then look at all of us and he looked to Dawn and said, “this is it now, I can’t do it.” With that he lay down slowly flat out in his stall. He was now a horse who resigned himself to his passing. We had never experienced a decision as clear cut and as immediate. We tried again to position him so that we could help him, but he wouldn’t even try. He was finished. We let him rest for a while. We fed him breakfast, which he ate. We gave him all his favorite treats. And we knew that the grand spirit in front of us had made his clear and final decision. He made it on his terms, not ours. He was ready. We called our vet and helped him move on.
One would think that with only four days of memories with him that we wouldn’t have much to call on. But in those four days, Moose graced us with many gifts. As we were burying him on the farm, he started talking to Dawn. He started showing her the memories of his life. He showed her running as a foal, then galloping with a grey mare who he adored. Then he showed her being ridden (Moose was an event horse in his career). He showed her all the memories he had of loving his life. And then he said to Dawn, “You may not have many memories of me, but I just left all of my memories in my whole life, on this farm, and with you. And that is why I needed to be here. I needed my memories to rest here. You gave me the place to be closest to spirit. This is where the two worlds meet for me. You are the keeper of my memories. Thank you for cherishing them for me. You will learn more about why I had to be here.”
Moose will forever be a part of our hearts and our farm. We are grieving as if we knew him for his whole life, and somehow, oddly, it feels like we did. We hope you ride the wind Moose, and thanks for all of the gifts that you graced to this farm and to each of us.
YODA - 3/12/09
Yoda was one of the icons of Spring Farm CARES. A Nubian goat, with a personality that matched his ears - very large. Yoda was wise beyond his years and yet a perpetual kid. He was everyone's friend, and I mean EVERYONE. From animals to humans Yoda made friends easily. At age 7, he wasn't with us long, but he will live in our hearts forever.
Yoda was found at just a few days old, as a stray in the woods in a popular hiking trail in our area. A friend of ours found him when he was out on a morning walk and brought him to us, not knowing where he possibly could have come from. It will forever remain a mystery how Yoda got there and he was found just in the nick of time. It was very cold and Yoda was already showing signs of frost bite. We immediately got goat milk replacer and bottles and nipples and began to feed him. He knew the bottle instantly which told us that someone had been hand raising him, which made this mystery of how he ended up in the woods even greater.
Unfortunately, his being left out all night in the cold took a toll on him. We quickly discovered that he was sick. Our vet confirmed he had pneumonia. Because we needed to keep him warm and bottle feed him throughout the night, we put him inside in our small animal facility. He shared an office with our Animal Care Manager and Humane Education Director. And boy do they have stories to tell about Yoda climbing up on the futon to take a nap and other such antics. Yoda began to recover but it was a long and slow process. Unfortunately, he felt that his place was inside like a dog. When he got well enough and spring had taken firm hold with warmer temperatures, it was time to take him to the barn and introduce him to the other goats. The problem was that Yoda did not consider himself to be a goat. He was horrified that we expected him to mingle with those creatures and to live, actually LIVE, in a barn. It was a huge shock for him. It was also a very difficult time for all the human caretakers who he had wrapped around his little hooves. One whimper from him and everyone went running to comfort him. He knew just what he was doing too. We'd watch him when he didn't think we could see him and he actually began to interact with the other goats. But as soon as he saw one of us approach, he'd start bleating like crazy to come save him. 
Alas, he adjusted. He learned that in our barn, he actually had the best of both worlds. He discovered tours and workshops and all the visitors who he could charm, play with, and impress over the years. He was a character and a half. The barn is not the same without him. He had a very debilitating illness that took hold quickly. It is something he most likely had since he was born and then it became active as he got older. We wish we had him with us longer, but we are grateful for the time we did have with him.
Yoda is missed greatly by his goat friends Nanny, Nutmeg, and Lindey; sheep friends Michael and Gabriel; and pasture mate Amber Donkey. When asked if they wanted to say anything in his memorial, they all summed it up with one sentence: "He was the life of the party and we miss him."
RED HAWK - 1/13/09
Red Hawk was one of our earliest cat residents. He arrived in early winter 1994 as a small kitten, about 8 weeks old. He instantly won over our hearts and made it really clear in short order that his work was to stay at Spring Farm. He named himself Red Hawk and it was a name that truly fit him. Red Hawk survived an incredible urinary tract problem and subsequent ruptured bladder in the earlier part of his life. He miraculously survived that surgery (thank you Dr. Kelly Foltman!) and made an amazing recovery. He had a very large and solid presence, living his life at the farm house on the property, home to several cats, dogs, and 3 of our administrative offices. His death was very unexpected and quick.
The amazing story about Red Hawk is that when he arrived, Dawn had a young yellow lab puppy, Jason who was exactly the same age. Red Hawk and Jason grew up together for the first full year of their lives. They loved one another dearly. On more than one occassion, Dawn found Jason gently carrying Red Hawk around in his mouth. Red Hawk loved it. They would cuddle and sleep together and then play for hours together. Jason arrived first followed by Red Hawk just a couple of weeks later. We were stunned when Red Hawk's final medical problem was discovered and he died just a few short days later. What was even more stunning was that he left just two weeks after his friend Jason. They came together and left together, just as though they had planned their dance through life.
JASON - 1/01/09
After 14 years of being Dawn’s best friend, teacher to many, playmate and senior executive of a pack of 9 dogs at Dawn and Margot’s house, and one of the foundation rocks of Spring Farm CARES, we bid farewell today to one of the most amazing yellow labs who ever lived. Jason was given to Dawn as a gift when he was 7 weeks old. Jason never knew a day in his life when he wasn’t loved and cherished for being who he was. Because of that, he offered assistance and help to many other dogs who couldn’t say the same. Jason helped to raise many rescue puppies over the years, being the perfect role model and grounding force that they needed. He also helped with the healing of several special needs dogs and cats in his lifetime. He was the epitome of kindness, compassion, and wisdom. And he was also the greatest goof ball in the world. Seriousness, playfulness, and a great sense of humor were all combined in perfect balance in Jason. He could one minute tell us something that had great philosophic significance, bringing tears to our eyes, and the next minute have us rolling with laughter.
Jason assisted Dawn with many animal communication workshops over the years. And even when he wasn’t present at a workshop, there wasn’t a single workshop that went by where Dawn didn’t bring Jason stories to the group. Dawn would be teaching only to have Jason chime in telepathically and say, “Now would be a good time to tell a story about me Mom.” Whether he was there in person, or through Dawn’s stories about him, Jason touched a lot of lives and opened a lot of hearts. His observations about his lif
e, the human experience, and nature that he shared with Dawn over the years, made people think, laugh, and cry. We began affectionately calling them “jasonisms” and there are so many of them to fill us for all our lives. Jason sometimes did odd things and when Dawn would ask him why he did something, his answer always started out with a deep sigh and the words, “but mom……..” As soon as Dawn heard those words she just knew that something profound was coming. Since a young puppy, Jason could always talk his way out of any situation with an answer that always sounded incredibly profound and brilliant, even when it wasn’t. In other words, he was a great fibber.
To say all we should say in a proper memorial for this amazing being would take up many pages. Jason’s life and his death were sacred experiences in our lives. His love for his family and his inner circle, both human and animal, were paramount in his life. He taught us about loving, trusting, sharing, and believing in ourselves. He will live in our hearts forever, but even better yet, we know he will be back with us again. We will miss his antics, his philosophy, his brilliant smile that lit up a room (and yes, he did smile!). But most of all we will miss those quiet moments that each of us shared with him in the depths of our hearts – the level he always insisted on working with and connecting from. We will miss those big sloppy lab kisses, the tail that wagged the whole car, watching him with his toys that he never shredded but always liked to carry around and suck on, and the huge bear hugs that he loved to share. Those are the physical things we will desperately miss. But we know we will have his love, his wisdom, and his ability to run the show with Dawn even from a distance, just like he did at all those workshops even when he wasn’t in attendance. We’ll see you soon bud! We need you to come back and wipe our tears away……. just as you always did.
