It is with heavy hearts we share the news that our sweet Bailey has crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
Her journey to us wasn't an easy one. Through no fault of her own, our beloved Bailey called to us needing our help. An elderly mare (estimated to be 35+ years old) with a serious puncture wound in an auction that deserved better, as they all do. Upon her arrival she began her journey to understand love, generosity and compassion. We healed her body. We healed her spirit. She loved her stay in the barn (as we lovingly named "Hotel Lucky Clover") during those cold winter nights, with her best girl Korah. She ran to the fence as we came around to pass out "night-night muffins". We watched her kick up her heels as we welcomed spring, and adored hearing her little whinnies as she called to us or her friends. Our Bailey girl was cherished and will be deeply missed by all, horse and human alike.
Until we meet again, love you always darling girl.
To Adeline’s former owner;
We buried your horse today.
The one you loved, took care of, and rode through the youth rodeo. The one you rode, perhaps, in a professional rodeo. All we know is that our sweet Adeline, when she made it to us 4 years ago, at an approximate age of 32…was extremely well trained. And she was tired.
We first saw Adeline in a kill pen. Sway back, extremely skinny, tired, wind knots in her main and a completely matted tail. We could see her ribs, even in the computer pictures. What we also noticed off the bat was a large man was on her incredibly swayed back, bare back, with only a halter. She was incredibly sensitive to her rider, reigning both left and right in tight circles in the small runway of the kill pen. This horse was obviously trained well. She deserved so much better.
Adeline lived a great life here at Lucky Clover. In a way, she taught so many horses what it meant to be a good horse. She was a trusted friend. It is said no horse is “bomb-proof”. We agree…with the exception of Adeline. Our farrier, vet, etc.. all agreed that this horse had done it all. We think she did 4H, rodeos, parades… absolutely nothing phased Adeline. She was the real deal. Of course, once she recovered, we wanted to get her moving to build up muscle. We brought her into the round pen, and realized immediately that she didn’t even need any human direction. Adeline walked into the round pen, turned around, and locked eyes. Immediate join-up. One pointed finger, and she started trotting in the direction indicated. One step forward, and a dead stop. Someone worked with this horse – a lot. So disappointing that human being let her down.
Adeline lived here for 4 years. Special feed, special treatment. Loving her spa days, so many hands loved Adeline these last 4 years… this past year she was taken into the barn every night to slowly eat her “mush”… her teeth were nearly gone, and while she liked to be “one of the herd” out in the pasture… she just couldn’t get enough nutrients from grazing.
Adeline had almost every child, from every volunteer here on her back. We had a 50-pound limit. And every…single…time… she stood proud, took absolute care, and then walked with her head held high for days after. She was beaming after every opportunity to travel with such precious cargo.
Adeline was an absolute gem. We are so lucky that we got to know your horse over the last 4 years. In her twilight, she loved apples, carrots, molasses muffins, pets, grooming, and even a stop by in the car to say, “hey, Adeline….!” got a whinny and an ear perk. When we brushed her out, her mane and tail looked like spun gold. It reflected the sunlight like glitter. She was stunning, and her looks weren’t bad either!
We’re so sorry for you. Sorry that you abandoned her, after she obviously served you proud. You should have seen her golden years – they were magnificent.
Goodbye, sweet, Adeline. You were everyone’s best friend. May your golden mane shine in the sun as you run through beautiful pastures until the end of days. We will see you again, sweet girl.
Adeline
Korah was about as sweet as they come. She deserved so much more. She was born with a degenerative disease, DSLD. She was a well-bred, beautiful mare, so instead of retirement when the disease presented, she was cast into the life of a broodmare. Turning out as many babies as she could. By the time she landed at auction, she was being "advertised" as having a "few good babies left in her". We knew we had to save her from that fate. She came to Lucky Clover where we spared nothing to make sure her last few years were fit for the princess she was. She received medicine daily, red light therapy, specialized poultices on her legs. She was even part of a study at UW-Madison that researches the disease that she struggled with. A study with hopes of eliminating the disease. In life, Korah was a beautiful friend. Always eager to please and give affection. In death, her body continues to help those afflicted with DSLD.
We miss Korah everyday, but she is still very alive in our hearts.
Korah
We lost our beautiful girl on Friday.
The one we named Bella. Her name means beautiful, and boy was she. She had another name before she came to Lucky Clover; it is printed on her papers. But she started new, and with that came a new name.
She was a registered paint horse. Blood lines were stellar. Of course, we knew none of that when we brought her here – the last horse at a kill pen with a tag that said “send to slaughter”.
We saw something in her eyes. Something that shouted “help me”.
We paid her hostage fee. We were called by the kill pen, “This horse is suggested to go to slaughter. Would you take another one instead?”
We learned that our beautiful Bella was born into a great life, but sold and rehomed numerous times. Many unkind hands. One of these homes purchased her back after many years away and forced her to ride and show, expecting her to be “just as good as she ever was”. Our Bella wasn’t “just as good”, she had years of abuse. Years of shuffling. Our Bella rebelled and flipped over on her rider who was demanding things she had forgotten, or wasn’t ready to remember yet. With no grace. No compassion for what she had been through, Bella was sent to the kill pen – with a note – this mare is for slaughter.
Well… we got “that mare”. Bella was traumatized, afraid from the start. Terrified of human hands. It took two years for us to walk up to her with a halter without panic overtaking her. Once haltered, she was easily the most loving, gentle horse. She loved treats, especially peppermints. She loved getting groomed, and getting attention. This horse was no monster – she was scared, looking for someone to give her back her dignity, give her back her trust in humans, and give her a beautiful life.
In her time at Lucky Clover, Bella was a true mascot. First to the gate, she was the greeter of the rescue, and she took her job very seriously. She learned to lean in for pets, treats, and was always interested in everyone telling her how beautiful she was. Her beauty made her an eye catcher; her personality secured her in the hearts of all that met her.
We never tried to ride our girl. We were happy just seeing her come out of her shell. Sharing herself with us, what a gift!
Not long after coming to live at Lucky Clover, Bella began having some respiratory issues. After numerous vet visits and consults, she was diagnosed with heaves, or more clinically COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease). Treatment plans were made, and medications administered, including oral medications, nebulizer treatments, Eastern medicine supplements and treatments to name a few. Bella cycled through many ups and downs with this frustrating diagnosis. As a chronic disease, we were always looking for the most cutting edge treatments to make sure she was comfortable.
Most recently, Bella had been taking a break from the steroid treatments due to building a resistance to their effectiveness. She was getting back on her nebulizer this week, but she had other plans. Bella was not well, her pen-mate Roxy made sure that Bella got immediate attention. The vet was called and came out. They recommended taking her to the hospital, which of course we did. Bella was brave. She held her head high again and walked to the trailer for her transport, whinnying one last time to one of her many suitors, Ruger. He whinnied back to her, surely he knew more than we did. After arriving at Wisconsin Equine Clinic & Hospital, the very skilled Dr. Gold and team descended upon us. Administering tests, drawing blood, performing ultrasounds. Trying to figure out what was happening to our sweet girl. The answer is not what we expected or hoped. Bella’s liver was exceptionally diseased. Cancer. There was no hope for treatment. We had to show Bella one last act of kindness.
Run free, breathe deep beautiful Bella. All pain is gone, and no one will ever hurt you again.
Thank you, Bella, for allowing us the privilege to love you and watch you grow and blossom over the last four years. Your presence will be here forever. We all carry you in our hearts. You will always be our “milkshake girl”…the girl who brings all the boys to the yard, you beautiful thing, you. We promise to take care of all of your men; Finn, Archer, Jameson, Ruger. They all loved you so, and so did we. We know you had already earned your direct ticket to heaven, and we are certain that your first love Charlie was there waiting for you, with Korah and Bailey flanked at his sides.
We love you always.
In Loving Memory of Harlow
Today, we honor the life of Harlow, our beautiful, blonde-haired sorrel draft horse whose journey through pain and hardship taught us the true meaning of strength, resilience, and love. Harlow came to us with a past marked by cruelty and neglect, but despite the scars she carried, she never lost her gentle heart or her capacity to trust.
Harlow’s golden coat, once dulled by the harshness of her previous life, shone brightly as she began to heal. In her eyes, we saw a quiet sadness that slowly transformed into peace, and a spirit that, despite all she had endured, refused to be broken. She showed us what it meant to find hope again, even in the face of adversity.
Though the years of abuse left their mark, Harlow’s spirit remained unyielding. She was a warrior, not by choice, but by the unspoken strength within her. And when she finally found herself in a place of safety, surrounded by kindness, Harlow became a symbol of redemption, teaching us the profound power of healing and the beauty of second chances.
In her retirement, Harlow finally knew the comfort of gentle hands and peaceful days, the joy of green pastures, and the warmth of a life where love and care were all that she ever needed. She showed us that no matter the scars we bear, we are always worthy of peace, kindness, and a place to rest.
Harlow may no longer be with us, but her legacy lives on in the hearts of those who loved her. She was a survivor. Darling girl, you will always be remembered for your beauty, your strength, and most of all, the love you gave us. Rest well, sweet Harlow. You were loved beyond measure, and you will never be forgotten.
Harlow
Our hearts are heavy as we share with you the news that our dear old soul, Charlie, has crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Charlie was a strong, calm and loving presence at Lucky Clover. Charlie found himself needing rescue in early 2019. He was in his mid-upper twenties at that time. He had a ranch brand on his hip, and knowing Charlie we believe he surely worked very hard for someone. We don’t know why our sweet boy found his way to the kill pen, but we knew we could provide him with the happy ending he so deserved for the final chapter of his life. We brought Charlie home, and he immediately became a farm favorite. He settled right in and was able to relax and live the good life. Charlie touched everyone’s hearts. He loved lazy rides, and all the treats he could handle. He was always right there at the gate to greet us with all of his friends. He left this physical world peacefully and on his own terms. His life with Lucky Clover Rescue was a tremendous gift and he will be deeply missed.
Finnegan
Finnegan, you were a magnificent horse. You gave me so many gifts in your time with us. You were my heart horse. You taught me patience, the gift of quiet solitude, and most of all forgiveness. You clearly did not have an easy life before rescue, but once you found your people, people that would never harm you, you thrived. You lived your beautiful life and never complained. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you and perhaps that means you are always here, carried in my heart.
Duke 12/26/23
The following memorial was written by Duke’s special girl Addie Lambe. Together they built a bond that was immeasurable. We are all at a loss for words at the sudden loss of Duke. Addie has written this beautiful tribute to Duke who will forever remain in our hearts
The hardest part of loving a horse is saying goodbye.
Duke was such a loving and a caring horse. He always loved his treats, even the frozen ones and always the love. I will remember calling him by his name. He knew his name, walking over to me. But now that’s not here anymore. I’m here but he isn’t. It’s weird to know that he has an empty spot now. No more treats. No more crazy hair. No more “Dukie” my best friend. The horse you could always talk to. The one that always would listen, he was always there for you even if the whole world wasn’t. He loved his people even getting protective at times. He taught us to be strong, patient and most importantly that even when things are at its lowest, it will get better. Duke was rescued from starvation, his body bore scars from abuse. He was scared and hopeless, but he came to Lucky Clover and he got better. He finally had something to fight for. He isn’t physically here anymore, isn’t rubbing his soft dirty nose on my face or getting slobber all over my hands, but he is here in our hearts. He impacted us and he had so much to give. He had something to love and to fight for. He never judged and was always there. He would love anyone he saw. And now he can run pain free. Away from the trauma and the pain he had to endure and to green pastures, buckets of treats and his home. I will never be the same without him. I will never be whole again. But he is still here with us. Maybe we are here without him but his spirit and love is always here with us. The light to our darkness and the love to me. My boyfriend, my Dookie and my Dukie Wokie. My love my bear, my mammoth and my best friend. Fly high buddy. We all love you.
Patrick
We named him Patrick, and we wish we could have gotten to him sooner.
We picked Patrick up as soon as we were allowed and immediately gave him pain meds. He was sweet and gentle and scared.
He was in extremely poor shape and nearly collapsed in the trailer as soon as he got in, so of course we made the immediate decision to drive him directly to UW-Madison VeterinaryHospital. They took him back and examined him, and unfortunately there was nothing they could do. They said the injury was far older than a week, the bone was exposed and the limb had started to die. He was necrotic.
He was sweet. He was gentle. He had more life to live.
He didn’t deserve the hand he was dealt.
We named him Patrick, and then we let him go.
Rest in peace, Patty. You will forever be in our hearts.