Becca Wright and Milo. Photo by Suzanne Bush
Things can get pretty wild on the roads in Grantville near Penn National Race Course. Just ask Julie Rish who lives about five minutes from the racetrack. “I tend to notice animals as I drive, anyway,” Rish explains. “I am always on the lookout, especially back along the mountain. It’s not uncommon for deer to shoot out. A couple of weeks ago, a bear did—right in the middle of the day!” She says she’s always extra vigilant, and that watchfulness paid off handsomely for a down-on-his-luck horse she noticed in someone’s yard.
“I was driving down the road and noticed there was a horse outside of a paddock and I drove around twice to make sure I wasn’t nuts,” she says. She was struck by the sight. The horse looked thin, and his mane was a tangle of burrs. She decided she had to do something, so she drove up to the house and knocked on the door. The man who answered the door told Rish a story both heartbreaking and stunning.
The man, who preferred not to be interviewed or identified, said the horse had just wandered onto his property, like a stray dog or cat. “He’s a trainer at the track and an older gentleman—almost 80—and he was feeding and caring for the horse,” she says. The horse had been in his yard for a month, and he had been calling around, trying to find out where the horse had come from. No luck. He had no leads and no idea what to do next. He pointed at the horse’s feet, by way of explaining to Rish why he didn’t worry about the horse wandering onto the road.
“Even though I grew up on a dairy farm, I have been around enough large animals Including horses to know his feet were not supposed to look like that.” His feet were grotesquely overgrown, curling up like elf shoes. Rish got the man’s permission to try to find a rescue or other agency that might be able to care for the horse and locate its owner. What she discovered was a deep and seemingly bottomless well of compassion and good intentions among small groups of people who had dedicated their time and much of their money to helping animals in need.
All Heart, No Cash
Rish called several nearby rescue groups and found no shortage of sympathy. “Many of the rescues didn’t have quarantine areas,” she says. “Most rescues do it out of their own pockets and they couldn’t afford a quarantine area, or another horse. People are doing it out of the kindness of their hearts, and they don’t have the money to support another horse.” One person she spoke to, from Central Pennsylvania Horse Rescue, said she had 28 horses, 40 cats, 10 goats and “I forget what else she had, but they were doing it mostly on their own. These places are very kind people and trying to do the best they can with what they have.”
She thought about the bedraggled horse with horribly overgrown feet and knew that she had to keep trying. And then she found Holy Spirit Farm and Horse Sanctuary in Wernersville. Rebecca Wright, who works at Holy Spirit, came out to look at the horse. She was amazed at how deeply invested Rish was in its safety and welfare and knew that he would be a good fit at Holy Spirit.
They couldn’t keep referring to this animal as “that horse,” and Wright says that she and her colleagues would probably have named him something like “Blaze,” for his distinctive marking. Or, she thought, maybe “Lucky,” because he certainly had luck on his side when Rish discovered him. But she wanted him to have a name that signified how special he is. She invited Rish to name him and after some back-and-forth, they settled on Milo, a name fraught with symbolism. It means both soldier and merciful, or forgiving and humble, Wright explains.
Moving Milo to Holy Spirit was easier said than done. As Rish tells the story, the man who found Milo in his yard had tried to take some of the overgrown hoof off, but couldn’t manage it. When the trailer from Holy Spirit arrived, it was clear Milo could not load because his feet were causing him so many problems. “How we loaded him was a nightmare and amazing all at the same time,” Rish explains, still astonished at what she saw. “These guys were up in their late 70s with saws and Milo let them cut off the nasty parts of his hooves.” It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to get Milo to Holy Spirit and on to the next chapter of his life.
Milo Goes to School
After who-knows-how-many-months alone and struggling to survive, Milo is safe. He’s being quarantined at a small barn on the campus of Conrad Weiser High School in Robesonia. A blacksmith has trimmed his feet, and he’s attracting a cadre of young people who are eager to learn more about him, and to shower him with treats. “We have no idea what he has really been through. His mane was just all burrs and we had to cut it off,” Wright explains. “He’s been on his own for a long time—or at least neglected for a while.” She says the school could make a whole curriculum around caring for a horse like Milo.
She says that the school has used the small barn and paddock as part of the agricultural education program, and it has housed goats, chickens and other farm animals. Milo offers the students a different perspective on farming. He’s an example of the bad things that can happen to horses when they are not cared for properly. The man who discovered Milo treated him with compassion and kindness—although there was not a lot he could do. He told Wright that he had put antibacterial cream on Milo’s open sores and brushed him. He made sure Milo had shelter, along with water and food.
But Milo’s dilemma reveals a number of thorny issues that animal welfare advocates face. Rightful ownership of the horse was in doubt. While he had clearly been on his own for some time, rescuers believe he’s likely a Thoroughbred, because he was found so close to the Penn National racetrack. Milo needed extensive veterinary care as well as care for his feet. Many rescues depend on contributions for the care of animals they rescue. Eventually, these rescues aim to find permanent homes for the horses that can be adopted. Without a clear provenance that shows the rescue has legal rights to treat and eventually transfer ownership of a horse, the process can get tangled up in courts. It’s the kind of risk that the small, self-funded rescues are reluctant to take.
What Could Milo’s Ordeal Mean?
Wright says that they’re trying to locate the people who were responsible for Milo and who failed him so profoundly. Milo has no tattoo, so his owners cannot be traced through The Jockey Club’s registry. Pennsylvania’s racing industry has brought the state a lot of money, but this horse is another data point for the state’s regulators to view as lack of basic protection for the horses at the heart of this lucrative industry.
“We don’t think he came from far away. He obviously couldn’t walk far. He was only two miles away from the backside of Penn National,” Wright says. She says she reached out to the Department of Agriculture and the State Police, but she has not heard back from either.
“We were heartbroken when we saw him, but so happy Julie (Rish) reached out to us. We can’t not take him or help him, regardless of the potential legal challenges,” if the horse’s owners ever show up.
Milo is safe. Whatever happened to him in the time before he wandered into a Good Samaritan’s yard may never be known. What is known is his condition. Feet grotesquely and painfully overgrown. Mane tangled in burrs so badly that the mane was just cut off. Open sores. He was emaciated. And, despite extensive outreach, whoever owns him has not come forward to claim him.
Holy Spirit Farm and Horse Sanctuary is a non-profit. Wright says they try to fund the horse rescue and continuing care for their horses through human services such as lessons and events. Milo will likely be out of quarantine and on the farm at Holy Spirit in December. His story, and the individuals who refused to look away when he needed help, are reminders of the power of kindness.
To learn more about Holy Spirit Farm, or to contribute to their work, check their website: www.holyspiritfarmhorsesanctuary.com. The organization is a non-profit and donations are fully tax deductible.