Green Acres for Horses in Golden Years

A few buildings, a red barn, some horses--it looks much like hundreds of other farms across Pennsylvania.

But this one’s different. It’s where old, overworked horses are welcomed and allowed to live out their days in comfort and peace.

“They just take life easy out here --retired,” said Gene Lafferty, manager of animal welfare at Ryerss Farm for Aged Equines, a 371-acre spread northwest of Philadelphia.

The nonprofit farm was opened in 1880 through a $30,000 endowment. Today its $365,000 annual budget comes from donations, a $3,500 admission fee per horse and the sale of the farm’s surplus crops. Lafferty lives on the farm with his wife, Ann, who manages the finances.

Nearly 100 aged, infirm and overworked horses grazed in a pasture on a recent sunny afternoon. A few rolled around in the tall grass and whipped their tails to shoo away gnats.

Among them were thoroughbreds that never made it big on the track, and huge Clydesdales that pulled tourist carriages around Philadelphia until their legs swelled and weakened. About one-third of the horses suffer from illnesses ranging from cancer to thyroid and pituitary gland problems.

“We do whatever we can for them, but if it comes to a point . . . we do what’s best for the animal,” said Ann Lafferty.

Terminally ill horses are put to death painlessly or just die in their sleep, her husband said.

“People think the bullet is the worst way to do it, but sometimes it’s the best way,” he said. The method varies from horse to horse. If an animal has slow circulation, an injection won’t work quickly enough.

“I think it’s my responsibility to make sure these guys aren’t hurting. That’s my job. But it’s hard to do it to a friend,” Lafferty said.

Most of the horses are at least 18, and last year a 50-year-old died.

“He just stopped eating,” Lafferty said. The vet put him down with an injection.

Some of the horses have no teeth. One lost an eye to cancer.

“Hey, kid, come here,” Gene Lafferty calls to an appaloosa with a thyroid condition. The SPCA took the horse away from a Philadelphia tourist-carriage company in March and has taken the owner to court, accusing it of mistreating the animals. The horse and eight others like it used to pull tourist-filled carriages around Independence Square.

Lafferty knows the horses by name, but calls them all “kid.”

“You get close to them,” he says.

The farm, on Route 23 about five miles south of Pottstown, is open to the public. Admission is free.

A developer recently wanted to buy 200 acres of the farm, but the board that runs it voted not to sell. This month, the board put all the land in an agriculture preservation program.

Lafferty calls to a 25-year-old horse named Wendy. Her knee makes a loud creaking sound as she takes a step.

Freckles, a white pony, came to the farm from a laboratory with a hole cut into her side and a Plexiglas window inserted. Her side became infected.

“A couple of young ladies smuggled her out,” Lafferty said.

Pete the Paint, a shaggy-haired 29-year-old with white socks, a slight swayback and a glandular tumor, has to swallow 20 pills a day to stay alive.

“As long as the horse isn’t in pain, it’s never too much,” said Lafferty.