If you would like to view a video of Beauty in all her glory, please click on the image above.

More than twenty years ago, a neglected and abused Arabian filly brought light and joy into my life at a time when I needed it the most. In 1997, surgery to remove a tumor within my spinal cord caused nerve damage which resulted in my becoming a quadriplegic, and although my doctors stated that I would never again walk, through sheer will, determination, faith and an intense physical therapy program, I regained use of my limbs. I remain today, an incomplete quadriplegic, however, with no feeling or awareness below my neck (proprioception). In time, I thankfully, was able to return to my government job which I truly loved, but sadly, I had to retire on disability in 2000 due to issues associated with my injury. Thus began a very dark period in my life as I learned to adjust to my physical limitations.

I’ve been riding horses since I was a toddler and truly missed them. In 2002, Bob and I decided that our kids should have the opportunity to experience horses, so we scheduled them for weekly riding lessons. I didn’t tell their trainer that I wasn’t supposed to ride and during part of each lesson, I would venture out on trails on an Arabian gelding that took great care of me. I was nervous at first, I hadn’t been on a horse since before my spinal cord injury, but I was determined. It was wonderful!

One day, I got a call about an Arabian filly that was petrified of humans. She had been seized from an abusive situation and placed in a foster home, but then, she couldn’t be caught. I walked into her paddock with no demands or expectations and after a short time, she walked over and put her head down into my chest. I waited. When she lifted her head, I looked into her beautiful brown eyes and saw fear along with a reflection of hope and a longing to trust. I slowly and gently put my hand on her neck and whispered, “I’m here for you, it’s going to be ok.” She became mine that very day and I named her Beauty.

We found a barn to lease and within a few days, Beauty had settled in. Every day, I spent a lot of time with her, just hanging out. We both had much healing to do. My physical challenges never hindered our connection; rather, they strengthened our relationship. Beauty seemed to understand my struggles and offered a unique form of healing. And I understood her struggles in learning to trust. Being mentally and physically abused is not something one can just move forward from without some level of acceptance, a support system and a leap of faith.

When we were both ready, we moved on to groundwork which proved to be invaluable. Because of my physical challenges and not knowing where my legs are, I taught Beauty to respond to voice commands as my arms, hands, and legs could inadvertently send signals that could confuse any horse. She was very intelligent and caught on quickly. We were both very proud of our accomplishments and it wasn’t long before she was under saddle.

Riding Beauty gave me a sense of freedom and independence. I no longer felt confined by physical challenges, but rather empowered by her strength and devotion. Sometimes, we went to local parks to ride, times I’ll never forget. As every horse needs a companion, we took in a blind Appaloosa gelding that was going to be euthanized. His name was Frosty, and not long after he arrived, we decided we wanted to move to the Ocala area and in 2004, our home in Tampa sold overnight, a sign we were making the right decision. We purchased almost 18 acres in Morriston, took in more horses, and, over time, our little farm morphed into Beauty’s Haven where we have helped over 500 horses and other animals.

Beauty was injured in 2011 because of something very foolish that another human had done. It was a very stressful time. She foundered, rotating quite a bit in both front feet. We were told we might be able to keep her comfortable as a pasture pal, but she’d never be sound enough to be ridden again. In the Spring of 2015, when I went out to ride another horse, Beauty came over and gave me that look – I saddled her up and we took a nice walk around the property! It made us both truly happy. Over the years, she would have founder flare ups, but we worked through them. In late 2015, she was diagnosed with Cushing’s disease. In 2018 she was diagnosed with Temporohyoid Osteoarthropathy (THO), and in 2020, Insulin Resistant (IR) / Equine Metabolic Syndrome (EMS). She was a tough and determined mare and her spirit never wavered.

She moved into the barn area as it was very important that we manage her IR which can be quite challenging. Frodo, a mini, that took an indirect lightning strike a few years ago which left him neurologically impaired, became her sidekick. We opened up the birthing stall which enabled Beauty to maneuver better, while Frodo had a stall across from her. Beauty wanted us to think she didn’t care much for Frodo, but the moment he got out of her sight, she’d whinny for him. It went both ways.

On Monday, last week, Beauty didn’t greet me at the gate with her lively morning whinny. She didn’t finish all of her breakfast, which was very odd. Dr. Staples came that day to do some trims and while she was here, she examined Beauty. Beauty didn’t have a temperature, but she did have a lot of gut sounds. She was given Banamine and thankfully, she was better by evening and even ate her meals. However, the next day, Tuesday, she just wasn’t herself, having little desire to eat. I took her temperature and it was 103.1. I called a vet out to examine her once again, and to do bloodwork.

The next morning, Wednesday, the vet called and said bloodwork indicated that she had hyperlipidemia and should go to a hospital. I called EMCO and took her there immediately. Pulling out of the driveway, and all the way down our road, Beauty and Frodo kept calling out for one another which simply, broke my heart.

When we arrived at the hospital, the staff went right to work examining Beauty, performing blood tests etc., as well as an ultrasound, to see if there was a blockage, but there was no clear definition of what was wrong. They put her on an IV drip and got her comfortable in a stall where she laid down to rest. She refused to eat but she did drink water.

The next day, Thursday, more tests were performed and she appeared a bit brighter and her bloodwork had improved. I hung out her with in the morning and Jenny went in the afternoon. Beauty only passed a small amount of manure, but she was nibbling on hay and drinking water. The plan was to give her another day to see if she improved and then regroup.

When we arrived at the hospital on Friday morning (Jenny was with me), we learned Beauty’s bloodwork results were even better. We took her out to a small paddock where she could relax, graze, and walk around. I hugged her, took the lead rope off, and told her she was free to go. Then, she gave me the most beautiful gift – for the first time in two years, she trotted out and did some of her Arabian dance moves and appeared as sound as any horse could be! Jenny said it was the biggest smile she’d seen on me in a long time. Beauty also passed manure a few times which was encouraging. We didn’t let her overdo it and tucked her back into her stall for the evening, but it sure felt good to see her feeling well enough to “dance”. When we left her in her stall, she was munching on hay.

The next morning, Saturday, Beauty was being ultra-sounded again by two veterinarians when we arrived at the hospital. They saw something of concern (tumor, abscess, etc.) but there was no way to know what it was without doing surgery. We talked about options, pros, cons, risks, etc. and really, the only choices we had were to do surgery to remove the tumor or abscess or to euthanize her. We opted for surgery.

We took Beauty for a walk while the staff prepared for surgery. I buried my face into her mane and cried. While looking at video that was taken at that time, I saw that Beauty shed a tear too. When it was time, she walked tall, proud, and steady from her stall to the operating area. I hugged and kissed her and breathed in her smell (she was the best aromatherapy) before she entered the prep room and assured her that we would be there waiting for her. I told her many times what she already knew, that I loved her dearly.

During surgery a large tumor was discovered. It wasn’t attached to any of her organs, but it went from one side of her abdominal cavity to the other. There was simply no way the surgeon could have removed it. Parts of it had gone necrotic – it would have only been a matter of time before Beauty would have gone septic. We went in to be with her and I held her as she went to Rainbow Bridge. I knew the very second that she was gone – my heart skipped a few beats, it was hard to breathe, and the world seemed so very far away.

Life had kind of come full circle – many years ago, surgery to a remove a tumor from inside my spinal cord led me back to horses, which led me to Beauty. And now, a tumor that appeared partially wrapped around her spine has taken her away from me.

Beauty was a once in a lifetime horse and I am beyond blessed to have been given the years that I had with her. The bond we shared transcended words and created a language of love and trust that only we could understand. Her gentle soul, unwavering presence, devotion, and her ability to sense my needs made her truly extraordinary. Together, we embraced challenges with courage and determination – we believed in each other and we never gave up.

While some of Beauty’s ashes will be spread over Beauty’s Haven, some will stay with me forever, but her spirit will forever be beside me. I know she will help guide me as we continue what we started together – helping those that are unable to help themselves. Her legacy will continue to live on in all the horses who enter through our gates seeking a second chance at life, a life that begins, again.

Beauty is gone from this earth and it hurts more than I can say. But as I sat with Frodo one night last week with tears falling, he suddenly perked up and let out a whinny. I could smell Beauty close by as a feeling of peace came over me, and, in my head and heart, I heard a whisper, “I’m here for you, it’s going to be okay.”

Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts. I appreciate them, very much.

Sincerely,
Theresa