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Prince Charles was a bay mini gelding, somewhere in his 30’s when he was euthanized in October. He was one of those ‘pass along’ horses; he lived with me the last 3 years of his life. By the time I got him, he had untreated Cushings, arthritis, and bad laminitis and was about 100 pounds overweight, having been dropped in a pasture while his owner and the pasture owner argued over whether he was a free-lease or a boarder. I bought him for $1. Rumor is, he was once a ‘champion cart horse’ in the Pacific NW before he fetched up in Maine. I was probably the 7th or 8th person to have him here. I miss the old fellow; He had the most beautiful eyes and he deserved better.
-Andrea St. George Jones
She and her brother, Manny were the most lovable and tender Siamese! Mocha loved to snuggle, loved playing fetch with a tiny wad of paper and loved playing hide and seek. We miss her and her brother Manny like crazy.
-Deb and Pete Gellerson
A tiny kitten, Newman was rescued from a road in rural Maine by Meris Bickford, CEO of MSSPA. He grew to be a 20-pound behemoth. He was a neighborhood character and fierce hunter. Newman lived with diabetes and other health issues; he mellowed into a calm indoor cat in his last years. A poem about him was read by Garrison Keillor on The Writer’s Almanac on NPR: “To My Cat With An Eating Disorder.” Newman was one of a kind.
Diesel was my constant companion. He spent every day with me on the farm and shared every meal. I spoiled him but what he gave back to me was priceless. It’s hard to imagine my life without him. I know he is in a better place after his struggle with pancreatic cancer and he watches me every day. You were a good dog, D.
Olivia was a rescued cat who lived to be almost 20. She was a tiny, dirty, frightened, abused kitten when I adopted her. She would not let me pet her for about 6 months. Little Olivia never got any bigger than about 7 pounds, but she was lightning quick, very sweet and grateful for her life as an indoor cat. She loved to eat, sleep in the sun, and gentle stroking. I miss her.
I first fell in love with Trixie at the age of nine, on the day she was born on a neighbors farm. She became mine on Easter morning of 1980 and for the next twenty-five years she was my best friend, alter-ego, and confidant. Her unconditional love and acceptance gave me the strength to set goals, believe in myself, and to stand strong against my father’s psychological cruelties and demeaning attitude. By example, Trixie showed me how to become the type of person I wanted to be, one capable of love, compassion, and generosity.
-Kimberly Sue McLaughlin