‘Feed Your Mind, Feed a Family’ offers helping hand

By Susan Kayne

For Capital Region Independent Media

Dear Readers,

This week’s column is extra special. As we celebrate the 20th anniversary of US this year—Unbridled Sanctuary—I’m handing over the reins to one of its youngest residents. Cinnamon Sparkles, a spirited two-and-a-half-year-old filly, has a story that exemplifies the Sanctuary’s mission of hope and healing.

Through her eyes, we’ll witness not only her journey but also the recent anniversary celebration that brought supporters from all over the country to the Sanctuary.

So, without further ado, let’s hear from Cinnamon Sparkles herself.

A MESSAGE FROM CINNAMON SPARKLES

Hi there! I’m Cinnamon Sparkles, and boy, do I have a tale to tell! My name might sound all glittery and fun, but my start in life was anything but sparkly. Still, thanks to Unbridled, I’m living up to my name more and more each day.

You might say I’m finally getting my chance to shine!

I came into this world just three short years ago. My earliest memories are like faded snapshots – green pastures, my mother’s warmth, the tickle of a breeze in my mane. I remember the comforting sound of her heartbeat, the gentle nickers we shared, and the safety I felt by her side.

But those peaceful moments didn’t last. Before I knew it, I was torn from everything familiar and thrust into a scary world of loud noises, strange smells, and unkind hands.

They called it the auction circuit, but to me, it was a maze of fear with no way out. I was loaded onto cold, metal trailers, surrounded by other horses who looked just as frightened as I felt. The fear in their eyes mirrored my own, and I longed for the comfort of my mother’s presence. We traveled from place to place, each stop more terrifying than the last. I was just a little filly, confused and alone, wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  

Each day, my heart ached for connection, for a gentle touch, for someone to hear my silent cries. 

One day, everything changed. I remember the day clearly. I was taken away from the yard full of horses and led onto a trailer. I smelled the aroma of fresh hay, and a gentle hand massaged my neck. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax into that touch, my muscles unknotting one by one. Under my hooves, no slippery metal floor, but rather a big thick bed of shavings!

When I turned around, I suddenly noticed that I wasn’t alone anymore. A big, kind mare named Marrazano was tucked into the front of the trailer. Her soft eyes peered at me, telling me that somehow, things would be OK. Together, but each with our own stall, we were secured in the trailer. The journey, while long, didn’t feel as scary. With Marrazano by my side, I felt a flicker of hope ignite in my chest. 

When we finally stopped, I stepped out into a place called Unbridled. The air felt different here – peaceful and safe. Horses even nickered from the paddocks and stables to say Hello! It was if they were excited we had arrived.

As I settled into my very own warm stall with Marrazano on the other side, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time – hope. The humans spoke in gentle voices to all of the horses, and the calm demeanor of the other horses was something I had never seen before. This was a place of healing. 

Life at Unbridled is magical. I quickly made friends with Ladybug, a filly full of energy just like me, and Tessie, who became like a foster mom. Ladybug and I would race around the paddock, our manes flying in the wind, sharing the pure joy of simply being nourished and free. Tessie would watch over us with a patient eye, stepping in to offer comfort or guidance when we needed it.

We spent our days frolicking in the paddocks, exploring every inch of our home. And let me tell you, I’m quite the explorer! The humans here quickly learned that I have a knack for finding my way out of any enclosure; they call me little Houdini. It’s not that I want to escape – I just can’t contain my curiosity! Every new sight, sound and smell is an adventure waiting to be discovered.

Recently, our Sanctuary, my home, celebrated its 20th anniversary, and oh my, what a day it was! I’ve never seen so many humans in one place before. The air hummed with adoration and love. I could feel it in my bones. Oh, and the melodies of a harp, a cello, and a violin graced the grounds.

From my paddock, I watched as cars pulled up, bringing more and more people. They spread out across the Sanctuary, some gathering near the big barn where the harpist played, others wandering the paths between the pastures. I heard laughter, saw smiles, and felt a warmth that went beyond the summer sun. It was like the whole world had come to celebrate us, to acknowledge our worth and our right to a good life. It made my heart swell with pride and gratitude. 

Many of the visitors came to our paddocks, cooing and aweing at us horses. I, being the social butterfly I am, made sure to greet as many as I could. I’d stretch my neck over the fence, ears pricked forward in friendly curiosity, inviting them to come closer. Their hands were gentle as they patted my nose, and I could see the love in their eyes. They all commented on my auburn mane, some saying they’d like that color for themselves! I’d toss my head a little at that, showing off my locks.

Some humans handed me treats – let me tell you, I’ve never met a carrot I didn’t like!

At one point, everyone gathered under the huge white tent. My human, Susan, the founder of Unbridled, oh and yes, she writes this column too, stood up to speak. Even from a distance, I could see tears in her eyes as she thanked everyone for their support over the past two decades. She spoke of the thousands of horses that had found safety and love through Unbridled, and how each one had left a hoofprint on her heart.  

As she talked, I looked around at my horse friends. There was Marrazano, grazing contentedly side-by-side with Kitty. Ladybug, bouncing with excitement at all the attention. Nicke and NoNo across the driveway looking out from their hilltop shelter. Tessie, watching over her baby Grace. Each of us given a second chance at life.

As the sun began to set, twilight casts its golden glow over the Sanctuary, I saw people hugging, some were wiping away tears, others laughing joyfully. And through it all, there was a sense of something greater – a shared compassion and a commitment to ensure that horses like me will always have a safe place to call home.

As the last car drove away and quiet settled over Unbridled once more, I felt a deep sense of contentment. This place, these people – they had saved me, given me a future full of promise. And on this special day, I realized just how many others like me had been touched by the magic of US.

Susan Kayne is the founder and president of Unbridled Sanctuary, an equine rescue on the border of Albany County and Greenville.

By Susan Kayne

For Capital Region Independent Media

In the golden light of a Carolina morning, three mares stand beneath an ancient oak, their presence so harmonious it recalls George Stubbs’ pastoral masterpiece, “Mares and Foals in a Landscape.” Yet, here in this living tableau, it is not lineage but friendship that binds them.

Celeste, the Hanoverian matron, shifts her weight with the subtle grace born of her champion bloodline; Seared, the coal-black Thoroughbred, adjusts her stance instinctively to align with Celeste’s movements; and Peggy, standing nearest to them, completes their quiet geometry. Together, they form a triangle of connection so profound that it defies the simplistic labels of herd behavior. It is friendship in its purest form, a testament to the emotional intelligence of these noble beings.

Celeste’s story began in these same Carolina hills, under the care of the late John Witherspoon Foster, a man whose eye for excellence was matched only by his boundless compassion.

Born in 2001, Celeste embodied the finest traits of her Hanoverian lineage. The daughter of Contucci, a stallion celebrated for his elegance and athleticism, Celeste was a reflection of meticulous breeding and dedication. By 2012, she had earned the American Hanoverian Society’s National Champion Mare title, her poise in the show ring matched only by her quiet intelligence. Yet, it was not her success in the competitive arena that defined her. Celeste’s true greatness lay in the way she carried herself beyond the accolades—with dignity, empathy, and a capacity to nurture those around her.

Seared’s beginnings could not have been more different. Born in Kentucky’s storied bluegrass region on May 9, 2006, her bloodlines glittered with promise. Sired by the legendary Gone West and out of Kumari Continent, Seared’s pedigree was a tapestry woven from equine royalty. But for all her promise, Seared’s early years were marked by transience, her worth determined not by her individuality but by the prices she commanded at auction.

Peggy, the smallest of the trio, carried her own illustrious heritage. Officially named Foo Peggy, she was sired by Fusaichi Pegasus, the Kentucky Derby winner whose record-setting $70 million sale underscored her noble roots. Yet, for all the weight of her lineage, Peggy’s charm lay not in her ancestry but in her gentle, grounding presence. She was the quiet counterpoint to her companions’ stately grace, the unassuming glue that bound their unlikely family together.

Under John Witherspoon Foster’s care, these three mares forged a bond that transcended the usual dynamics of equine relationships. Herds are often defined by hierarchy, yet this trio operated as equals, each contributing to the shared whole. During storms, they stood shoulder to shoulder, their bodies forming a windbreak as they rotated positions to share the brunt of the elements. In drought, they grazed side by side, dividing resources rather than competing for them. These were not mere instincts but deliberate choices, reflecting an understanding of mutual dependence.

This harmony was tested in 2019 when Foster received a terminal diagnosis. His foremost concern was not for himself but for the future of his cherished mares. Offers poured in from buyers eager to separate the trio—Seared’s breeding potential alone was enough to spark a bidding war. But Foster’s love for them ran deeper than financial calculations.

“They belong together,” he insisted. His search for their new home led him to Unbridled, and the promise to honor his dying wish.

In August 2020, Celeste, Seared and Peggy traveled together to their new home at Unbridled, at the time in Coxsackie. Physically, they were in good shape. Emotionally, however, they carried the invisible weight of loss. Horses express change not in words but through their bodies: heightened vigilance, subtle tension in their movements, a wariness in their eyes. For weeks, they stayed close, their triangle tightening as they navigated this unfamiliar terrain. Celeste, ever the matriarch, positioned herself protectively, her movements communicating reassurance to her companions.

The volunteers at Unbridled understood that healing requires patience. They observed rather than imposed, allowing the mares to set their own pace. Slowly, the mares began to trust their new caretakers. Celeste, accustomed to human interaction from her show ring days, was the first to engage. Volunteers noted how she would pause at paddock gates, assessing situations before leading Seared and Peggy forward. Seared followed cautiously, her intelligence apparent in the way she adapted to new routines. Peggy, ever the gentle soul, was the last to come forward, her curiosity tempered by an innate shyness.

By the time the first winter arrived, the trio had begun to settle into a new rhythm. On cold mornings, they stood in the weak sunlight, their bodies angled to share warmth. Volunteers marveled at their synchronicity, noting how their movements seemed choreographed—an unconscious dance of mutual understanding. Even their rest periods were synchronized, with one mare always standing watch while the others lay down. These rituals spoke to an unspoken bond that went beyond mere survival.

Then, in April 2023, their circle was broken. Peggy, the gentle heart of their trio, lay down in the paddock one spring morning and did not rise again. The veterinarians believed it was a heart attack or aneurysm, a sudden and peaceful passing. Celeste stood vigil over Peggy’s still form, her head lowered in quiet grief. Seared hovered nearby, her usually alert ears drooping in sorrow. The absence of Peggy’s steady presence reshaped their dynamic, leaving an empty space both literal and figurative.

In the weeks that followed, Celeste and Seared adjusted to their new reality. Their bond, already strong, deepened further as they navigated their shared grief. Volunteers observed how their grooming rituals became more frequent and more deliberate, each touch a silent acknowledgment of their shared loss. They began spending more time in physical proximity, their movements slower, their interactions imbued with a gentle tenderness.

For those who spend their lives with animals, it is impossible to ignore the parallels between equine and human experience. Yet, as Jane Goodall often reminds us, animals do not experience the world as we do. Horses like Celeste and Seared do not mourn with words or tears but through actions—by adapting, by remaining present, by carrying forward the essence of what has been lost. Their grief is not a projection of human emotion but a reflection of a shared truth: that life’s most profound connections transcend species.

Today, Celeste and Seared remain inseparable. Their mornings often begin in Peggy’s favorite grazing spot, a quiet homage to their absent friend. Visitors to Unbridled are drawn to their story, finding in their bond a reminder of their own experiences of loss and continuance. It is not the mares’ pedigrees that captivate these onlookers, but the way they embody the essence of true friendship: a willingness to stand together, to adapt, and to endure.

Under the dappled shade of a new tree, Celeste and Seared continue their journey. Their triangle may have become a line, but it remains unbroken. In their quiet resolve, they remind us that life is not defined by what we lose, but by how we carry what remains. Their story, like all the stories at Unbridled, is a testament to the strength of connection, the beauty of trust, and the enduring power of love.

Susan Kayne is the founder and president of Unbridled Sanctuary, an equine rescue on the border of Albany County and Greenville.