| We lost our magnificent Homer on Wednesday. After bravely fighting to recover from acute laminitis and significant rotation in all 4 feet in 2009, he developed colic on Wednesday and despite our best efforts, we had no choice but to release him from the pain he was in. The vet found a mass, we suspect a lymphoma, deep inside him, surgery wasn't an option, this was a battle we couldn't win. He left this world so peacefully, surrounded by those who loved him the most. He was the bravest, kindest, most generous and unassuming horse I have ever known, he touched so many people around the world. He taught Martin to ride, he was Martin's best friend. Whenever anyone asked Martin what he did with Homer, clearly expecting the answer "dressage" or "hacking" or whatever horsey folk would normally say, Martin would always reply "Homer is my hugging horse", he really knew how to give a big hug, he spread happiness wherever he went, we called him Homey Pony the love magnet. But that's not to belittle his athletic achievements - he was a proper gypsy cob, rescued from abusive gypsies as a foal by Remus Memorial Horse Sanctuary - and yet he achieved the highest mark for dressage of any horse on our yard before we left the UK, and just recently had been learning shoulder-in, haunches-in and half pass. He left this world in his prime - he was only 18, and he had never been healthier, happier, fitter, more sound, more confident. His feet were finally perfect, his blood test results in September had been perfect, he was enjoying lots of grass and exercise, the laminitis seemed a distant memory. He had such a close relationship with Martin, me and Dan, his herd mate of more than 11 years. Only a few weeks ago he came into the school when I was lunging Dan and just tucked himself in behind Dan, walking and trotting with him, then coming to stand behind me, as if to give me advice, just as an instructor would, before going back out to join Dan - it was magical. And on the day of his last lesson, only last week, while we were working Dan he wandered into the middle of the school, as if to say "it's my turn now". He gave Martin such an amazing ride during that lesson that afterwards Martin said he almost felt as if he never wanted to ride again, as he had felt totally at one with Homer, and it could never be that good again. That turned out to be his last ever ride on Homey, the last time either of us would ride him - we suspect now that Homer knew that he was ill, and gave everything he had. Homer is the reason this website exists. We so nearly lost him to laminitis, and I resolved that I would learn all I could to try to prevent other horses and owners going through the pain and mistakes that we endured. Because of Homer, there are horses around the world that have recovered from laminitis and are now back in work, horse owners who have learned how to recognise and deal with laminitis and endocrine disorders, vets and farriers who have benefited from the information on the website. Homer was a huge part of our lives - we miss him so much, but he will live forever through The Laminitis Site, and in our hearts. |  My last lesson on Homey just a couple of weeks ago.  A big pat at the end of Martin's penultimate lesson on Homey - Homey had had a sneaky roll in the mud after being groomed while Dan was having his lesson!  Homer during his laminitis - we'd have done anything for him.  |
Homer 1994 - 2012
| Strong Homey pony, the big hugging pony. When you were near we never felt lonely. Reliable, wonderful, hairy, happy and free, gentle, giving, loving, always joyous to see. Worked hard in his lessons we keenly anticipated, loved to get thanks but remained understated. “Is this big rug really for me? Can I let myself trust you? And if you can love me, then can I love you too?” | Lived for green grass or lazing in shade, brought so much laughter with the farts that he made. Loved to be with them, usually munching as well, often swapping nuzzles with Dan and Chantelle. Though he had known malice, he never showed us any. He loved to share happiness with us and so many. Deep dark knowing eyes knew fear as a foal, but for us that shaggy coat and a warm loving soul. | Thick shiny black mane and flowing white feathers. He was always content, whatever the weather. He radiated peace, and he gave out so much for a small piece of apple and our grateful touch. He learnt to love us, as we did him, slowly. Now rest in peace, Homer, our perfect pony. by Martin |
"...and then, he looked deep into my soul
and he asked me
"Do you love me enough to let me go?"
and I held him close and replied softly....
yes......."
From For Winston by Jan Elliott-Goin
Saying Goodbye
Please do not use any of these photos or words without permission.
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