- Sarah Fisher (225)
- 13. January 2012: 13th January 2012
- 13. January 2012: 8th January 2012
- 13. January 2012: 5th January 2012
- 13. January 2012: 3rd January 2012
- 13. January 2012: January 1st 2012
- 22. December 2011: 22nd December 2011
- 22. December 2011: 16th December 2011
- 22. December 2011: 10th December 2011
- 4. December 2011: 4th December 2011
- 4. December 2011: 30th November 2011
Blogroll
Home
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- November 2008
24th March 2010
The bright, brilliant, golden light that was Fish has gone!
It is a sad day here at Tilley Farm. As the Olivier Awards were about to begin on Sunday night I received a text from Jon who lives at the farm to say that Mags’ (my office administrator) horse had colic. He had never had colic so I knew it was bad. I phoned for an update the minute the awards ceremony was over and was so sad to hear that he had been put to sleep at around 9.30pm. Mags had owned Fish since he was weaned and he graced her life for 28 years. He had been a wonderful eventer and, of course, a brilliant friend. He was such a gentleman and so patient and sweet with newcomers to the work that they couldn’t ever have imagined how powerful and on his toes he could be when out hacking through the fields with Mags or being led out to pasture on a sharp windy day.
I got home at around 1.30am and spent the rest of the night at the farm with Mags as she couldn’t go home knowing that her beloved horse was lying on the grass at the back of the stables. We lit tea lights and sat with him as dawn broke over Tilley Farm. Although the yard is still busy there is a stillness to the place; an audible calm that always follows death. Our horses have a quiet acceptance that the bright, brilliant, golden light that was Fish has gone. Fish, we shall miss you. With love from us all.
One Response to “24th March 2010”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
29. March 2010 at 02:59
Very sorry to hear about Fish
Angela (& Sno and family)