Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

I want to tell you a love story. The kind of story that rekindles your belief in commitment and loyalty and reminds you that true love is not hanging on to the thing you love. That true love sometimes means letting it go. It’s the story of The Old Man and his horse.

The Old Man found Refuge Farms by reading his newspapers. He told me that he had seen us in the “Horse Calendar” of one paper, but he started thinking about us when he read the story of Big Guy…maybe, he thought, this was the place he had been looking for.

The Old Man will be 93 this week. Amazing. Sharper than some 40 year olds I know, for crying out loud! His mind is full of current events but yet he can tell you his hourly wage in his first job after the depression. I thoroughly enjoy talking with The Old Man. He is a living, breathing history book. And for a woman who has never known grandparents, this history book is someone I want to continue talking with and learning from…. It is my impression that The Old Man could teach me many things about life, about people, and about horses.

My first meeting with The Old Man was here at Refuge Farms. His neighbor had driven him down to see me on a Saturday in November when it was hard to believe that winter was coming. It was over 40 degrees, sunny, and a light breeze was coming out of the North…reminding us to prepare.

The Old Man sat in his van while he told me of his horse. And his dilemma. The horse was in his 20’s – 25 or 26, he thought – and a good horse. Not a mean horse. And he was an easy keeper. But The Old Man walked with two canes now and so getting water to the horse had become a real challenge. And with winter coming, the water was freezing up and the horse needed water. Could I take him? He was a good horse, you know.

As I listened I prepared my response. I explained our capacity issue. But I promised to look for a home. Writing down the description of the horse and The Old Man’s telephone number, I felt my hands trembling. What was this all about? I felt my heart breaking in two. Why? My efforts went to fighting back my tears. What was happening here?

The Old Man left THE FARM and I immediately felt a weight on my heart. Something about this situation was hitting very close to home and I hadn’t a clue what it was. All I knew was that I had to feed my herd and get on with chores. Of which I did directly. But not without talking to some of the volunteers about The Old Man and his horse. And sounding out my pain which I couldn’t even identify, but knew for sure was there. I could feel it. That dull ache of a broken heart.

Two days went by and I called The Old Man. Cold weather was coming and I asked if I could bring up a barrel for some water. It would freeze, The Old Man told me. I explained that I would bring up a heater, too, so the horse would have water until we found a home for him.

It was arranged, and so that Tuesday, I drove north and found The Old Man’s house. He was waiting in the kitchen for me and I went in and we chatted. Would I come in the house when I was done? Sure, I said. And so out to the barn I went.

The horse lived on 40 acres and had access to hay inside the back of a huge old dairy barn. The barn had been modified to stall two horses. Their hay bins and feeder trays were worn from years of use. Old halters and harnesses hung all around me. Horse drawn farm equipment was stored everywhere. I could literally feel the history in the place. And in that space for the horses, was the frozen water supply that was worrying The Old Man. Not seeing the horse, I set about getting the water barrel and heater set up and then began the task of filling the barrel.


I heard his footsteps and so stood perfectly still – anticipating our first meeting. The horse was majestic in his age, standing tall with his head straight up. He came around the corner and looked me right in the eye. His eyes were dark and clear. His face was huge with an even white strip down his nose. And he looked right through me…not just at me. Seeing that I was not The Old Man and seeing me as an intruder, he simply turned and walked away….back to where he had just come from. I followed for a while, but the horse knew the terrain better than I and so soon left me far behind. Over on the hill he came to stand with his hips upward…facing the barn to await The Old Man’s nightly journey out to feed him.

In that brief meeting, however, my heart left me. It was now firmly planted in the chest of this old horse...

In the house, The Old Man and I chatted as two people do when they are just getting to know each other. We looked at pictures and he told me the Wisconsin Draft Horse and Mule Association wasn’t something he just belonged to – he had started the whole thing! And I told him how, over 10 plus years ago, I had spent an afternoon at one of their events… I had watched how horses had tilled the earth, cut the hay, harvested the corn …and I had thought how hard the work was for both the horse and the man.

“I worked 300 acres with horses in my day!” My respect for the man took a leap forward. Usually, he explained, when he worked the fields, he had a three horse team. And the horses weren’t as big as they are now. They were smaller but stronger. They could last a whole day back then. Now they’re bigger and couldn’t last the work day, he said. Too much horse to move around…the wisdom just came pouring out of him as I sat in his living room and tried my best to be like a sponge.

“Where was the partner for the horse?” I asked. His partner had crossed six or seven years ago, The Old Man explained. The horse had been alone since then. Just The Old Man and the horse. Together.

My departure was based upon my promise to return. And as I stepped toward the door to leave, The Old Man asked, “Are you going to take him?” No, was my response. THE FARM was full but I had someone in mind who would give him a very good home. And truly I did. I needed to explore every option for this team - The Old Man and his horse.

And so the next week I did explore every option. I talked to several friends about the situation. And every option dead-ended. And I cried. And I couldn’t sleep. I took several trips up to the old barn and either checked on the water or checked on the horse. Many times, I didn’t disturb The Old Man – I just checked and left. But one time, as I was walking back to my truck, The Old Man pulled in to his driveway. When I was done, would I come in to the house to visit? Sure, I said.

As we sat and talked, I heard how the very house I was sitting in had been built by The Old Man back in 1951. Built from the trees on his land. He needed running water in his house for his new family and he needed sewer services in the house. The old log farm house could have been remodeled, but it was wiser to just build new. And so a good new house he built. The house is still strong and it’s warm. It works well for him now. I looked over the 1950’s wood trim and arched entrance to the living room and imagined it as new with children running in and out….and dad out working with his horses….and mom cooking a big supper in her new fancy kitchen….

Once again, I worked my way toward the door with a promise to return and once again, The Old Man asked, “Are you going to take him?” And once again I explained that I really couldn’t take him. We were full. But that I was working on finding him a home.

And this time I wasn’t nearly as comfortable in my response. The one couple I had in mind to accept the horse had just lost a mare and their hearts were not yet healed enough to love another so soon …and so the one home I had in mind wasn’t an option….I was hurting for a home for the horse….

In my conversations with these friends about the situation, we discussed finding people to go up and care for the horse…we talked about bringing the horse to THE FARM….we talked about how cruel the situation was for everyone involved…. we talked of how sad it was to separate these two…but no answer came yet.


In one conversation, I said I thought that bringing the horse here would be a good option. We could make room and then The Old Man could come and visit. We have Memory Benches in the yard and the horse could eat some lawn grass while The Old Man sat and the two could spend time together...

But I told myself that until I heard the order, until I knew for certain, until the answer came to me clearly, I needed to look for a home for this horse.

Again I found myself in a situation where my head did not allow my heart to be heard. My heart was pleading to bring the old horse to Refuge Farms. Couldn’t I see that this was our mission in perfection? “Horses Helping…” was just what this was all about! Sandy, open your eyes! The horse needs a home and The Old Man needs to know the horse is safe and well cared for! Wake up, Sandy! You can make a difference for both the horse and The Old Man!

But my head would quickly shut down such conversation and simply remind my heart that we couldn’t feed another horse. The practical side of me would take over and put my heart back in it’s place – in the chest of the old horse…

Then on a Tuesday morning, I uncharacteristically went to the Post Office. Usually I went to the Post Office Box on Saturday’s, but this Tuesday I found myself opening the box and looking at the mail. And my answer was right there. It was clear. The answer was just waiting for me to read it…

”Merry Christmas, Sandy! God Bless!” was written on the check stub. A donation burned in my hands as the tears streamed down my cheeks. Here was the answer! Take the old horse, Sandy, knowing that his care was covered by the generosity of this Friend. A smile broke over my face as I raced to the truck to call The Old Man! Could I come and get the two of them on Saturday and move the horse to THE FARM? Would The Old Man come with me for the move? Would that be okay?

And so plans were made and Saturday came and The Old Man and I moved the horse to Refuge Farms. It was joyful and very sad all at the same time. The Old Man saw his best friend leave his barn and his yard. The horse left his home of over 25 years. The horse saw The Old Man leave him in a strange new barn. But I promised them both return visits – this was not the end! No way! The visits would continue! They both will continue to know each other and talk with each other and smell each other…We would use our mission to help this horse as he grows older and to help The Old Man stay in touch with his horse…

On the return trip, The Old Man told me, quietly, that this was the first time he had been without a horse since he was 12 years old. And I then knew where the weight that had been on my heart was coming from. For the first time in this rescue business, my heart was not breaking for the horse. My heart was breaking for The Old Man. I knew of what he was speaking.

The Old Man loves this horse. These two have been together for over a quarter of a century. Think of the times they have spent together! How The Old Man has worked with the horse to calm him. How The Old Man has shown him, through his care, that the horse was safe with him. “He had been mistreated when I got him”, The Old Man had told me.

The Old Man loves this horse. He cared for him and had turned him out on the very morning his wife had crossed. Even in his sorrow, The Old Man had cared for his horses. When you love something you take care of it, you know.


The Old Man loves this horse. He loves him enough to know that a horse needs water. The horse needs water more than The Old Man needed the horse. And so out of his love for the horse, The Old Man gave the horse away.

The Old Man loves this horse. And so in his choosing of who to give him to, he did not even think of a kill buyer or just any place to put him. No, he traveled to a stranger's driveway and pleaded his case, putting his pride aside for the needs of the horse.

The Old Man loves this horse. The two are a team. The horse ever responsive to the sound of The Old Man’s voice. On the day we loaded the horse, we got to the back of the trailer and the horse stopped. I started my Natural Horsemanship and was soon put in my place. "Get up in there," The Old Man said from over twenty feet away. Obediently, the horse stepped up in to the trailer without a second thought. The horse loves The Old Man, too.


And so now the horse is here. And The Old Man and I talk from time to time. And I go and get The Old Man and bring him to THE FARM to visit the horse. And my heart is singing! We have a new minister in the herd – ever watchful, but calm. “A good horse. Not a mean horse. And he is an easy keeper. A good horse, you know.”

And I have a new friend. A grandfather, almost…or is he more of a father? Or is it that I see myself in The Old Man? Is it that I see myself loving my horses enough that some day I will seek out someone younger - with a heart like mine - to take my horses? Is it that I know my heart will be breaking at giving them away but knowing that they need what I can no longer give them? And so I, too, must ask a stranger to take my horses? My horses that I have given my heart to and must now give away? Is that what I see in The Old Man?

The answer was clear all along, oh ye of little faith… Oh, Sandy, how can you be so small? And at Christmas time? Throughout these past weeks, I’ve found it necessary to overcome my fear of heights. Twice now, I’ve climbed the ladder to clean the Faith Bucket that hangs in the barn. Twice, I’ve gotten the bucket off it’s hook and peered in to the bottom of the bucket – as if the answer were in there! Twice, I’ve found it necessary to polish the symbol of what I am so lacking in…Twice I’ve gotten my feet back on solid ground and reaffirmed my commitment to being faithful. To trusting when I cannot see the “how” or answer the “what if”. The faith that is needed when this Type A personality must move forward without knowing how…. the details…


I now have a new horse to love and care for and to share with his rightful and true owner. And I have a new friend. A new friend who hugs me hello and hugs me good-bye. The Old Man who has many things to teach me. My Christmas presents this year will last forever! They are the love of an old horse and the time with The Old Man!

And this, all because of The Old Man and his love for his horse.

Merry Christmas to each and every one of you,
Sandy and The Herd