Memorial


	The Golden Carrot - Horses - Memorials

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow, I am the glints on fallen snow.

I am the sunlight on golden grain, I am the autumn's gentle rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush, I am that swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die."

Cleveland Amory, the noted animal activist, wrote that although his beloved cat Polar Bear was buried at his Sanctuary in Texas, he wasn’t really there - Polar Bear lived on in his heart. Each of my loved friends below can be found in my heart also.


	BobbySox

Bobby Sox - 42 years old - 13.3 hands high and possibly a Welsh Cob mix. Dark brown, with four white feet (socks) and a white blaze. The best horse ever foaled. Responds to English and Western commands (neck and direct reins); trail rides perfectly, sound and bomb proof. Great caretaker of the young - whether young horses or young riders - but if you're an adult, you'd better do your job or off you go! I rode Bobby Sox for 10 years bareback with only a halter and looped lead rope for reins - and he only threw me twice! He spent some time as a riding horse at one of the Griffith Park, Los Angeles riding stables, then owned by a series of young women at the Playa del Rey Stables near the Ballona wetlands.

Below are Maker’s Mark, Zayler, Trilby and Trifle. I don’t have pictures of Bonnet, and Teke, who were early rescues with TGC. Bonnet was a charro-rodeo victim, starved when the tripping so injured her that her owner could no longer rent her to the rodeos for money. I had a precious 1-1/2 years to convince Bonnie that all people were not brutal. Teke was a lovely quarterhorse whose left knee had probably been injured by hyperextension and had fused together. She walked backwards whenever possible, dragging the fused leg along. But this is an “unmanagable” disability, and Teke went to the Rainbow Bridge along with Bonnie. They live on in our memories and our hearts.


	Trilby died on August 15 2002 after a terrible struggle with colic. She was in her mid to late 30s and suffering from severe arthritis all around as well as a fusing right knee. She was the perfect ‘bomb-proof’ beginner horse with a calm temperament and gentle nature. She is missed by all. Click on Trilby’s picture to see other photos and info about her.




	Trifle

Maker’s Mark above, with his convalescing pal Simply Red.

Teke to the left, kept in her stall that rainy day because she was so uncertain on her feet that we felt the slippery going would be too much for her to handle.

Trifle was approximately 35 when she died on the last day of 2000. We know little of her history - she seemed tired and depressed when she came to us. She was dainty and perfectly proportioned, and strong beyond her size. But she didn't make friends in the herd, preferring to wait until little kids came to ride for companionship. In her last years, she lived with her two pygmy goats, Minnie Pearl and Billy Bob. Minnie died only a month and a half before Trifle passed - and I think the loss of her friend may have caused her to give up. She had foundered a year earlier but we'd been able to keep it barely controlled - the loss of Minnie was the last straw. They are buried next to each other, and I like to think they're grazing in heaven side by side.






		Zayler

Zayler had a difficult past. He was sent to us by Katie Davis, who had loved him until his frail health and age prompted her to try to find him a retirement home. Some months after she'd placed him, she went by to visit and found him starving to death. She seized him, began to rehabilitate him, and eventually found The Golden Carrot. Zayler came back so well here that we were giving lessons on him and he took great pride in carrying little children, carefully placing his feet and refusing more than a gentle walk around the arena. I lost Zayler on May 22, 1999 - he didn't make the move with us to Anza. He was in his 30s, riddled with tumors and with back end problems that made getting up very difficult. Dr. Patton helped to send Zayler gently on his way. He will be missed.

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