Fox Lea Mini Horse Rescue

04/21/2026

Marco is all personality. Little body. Big personality

04/18/2026

Now we know.....

Polo's breathing told his story before anything else. Loud, effortful, like a foghorn echoing from a body that should have been light and easy. But it wasn't, and there were many possible reasons why.... and now we know. Certainly not the preferred option... but here we are.

Polo has a collapsing trachea.

It sounds clinical, almost tidy, but it isn’t. It means that the airway he depends on to do something as simple as breathe… doesn’t always stay open the way it should. Each inhale can take effort. Each exhale can carry that telltale sound, sometimes a honk, sometimes a wheeze, sometimes just a quiet struggle you only notice if you’re really listening.
And yet… there is Polo.
Soft-eyed. Kind. Wanting so badly to belong, to be loved.

He doesn’t understand diagnoses or anatomy. He doesn’t know the words “chronic” or “management.” He just knows that he wants to be friends. So Polo puts his heart out there.

Even when breathing is hard.
Even when the world is new and a little scary.
Even when his own body doesn’t make things easy.
That’s the part that gets you.
Because a collapsing trachea doesn’t define him, but it does mean he needs more. More awareness. More thoughtful care. More watching on warm days, on dusty days, during moments of stress. It means we listen closely, adjust gently, and advocate fiercely for his comfort.
It means we become the kind of humans who notice the small things, because for Polo, the small things matter. He's worth it and we are willing.

There’s something incredibly humbling about a horse like him. He doesn’t ask for perfection. He doesn’t wait until everything feels easy. He just… keeps showing up. Breathing the best he can. Reaching out anyway.
Sweet little Polo, with his noisy breath and his wide-open heart.
We hear you.
We see you.
And we’ve got you.

But we will always have to monitor his quality of life. A collapsing trachea can be fatal. A collapsing trachea can lead to one of those "quality of life" discussions that no one likes.

It’s one of those diagnoses that sounds simple on paper but carries a lot of weight in real life.
A collapsing trachea means the airway can narrow or partially close, especially when Polo breathes in, gets excited, or is in heat, dust, or stress. In mild cases, it’s mostly a noise and some extra effort. In more severe cases, it can become dangerous, because if the airway can’t stay open enough, he can’t move air effectively.

That’s where the risk comes in.
Severe episodes can lead to real respiratory distress, labored breathing, anxiety, not getting enough oxygen. In worst-case situations, especially if something triggers a sudden collapse (exertion, overheating, airway inflammation), it can become life-threatening.
But here’s the part that matters just as much:
A diagnosis is not a destiny. Many horses, even with significant airway issues, can live comfortable lives with careful management. It just means you stay a step ahead of it. So that means :
• Keeping dust as low as possible (hay, bedding, environment)
• Avoiding heat and humidity stress to the extent possible,
• Minimizing situations that cause heavy breathing or panic; Polo will live with Fiona and Arlo
• Supporting the airway medically when needed (like bronchodilators, anti-inflammatories)
• Watching closely for changes
We want to do what is best for him He hasn't given up yet, so we won't. We will give him the best life we possibly can until he tells us otherwise. Please hold this little guy in your hearts.

04/17/2026

I thought we adopted out a horse but I think he is really a woodland sprite. Scout in his new home

04/16/2026

Well we started. First thing was multiple ultrasound examinations on the lungs. Turns out Polo is a bit ticklish and not fond of clippers. The ultrasound photos show possible lesions- maybe still the presence of pneumonia. Blood was drawn to look for markers of infection. Insulin was drawn …just because he’s a mini with at least one obviously foundered foot. Next step is X-rays of his lungs , neck and head. When he is mildly sedated his singing stops- the airways are relaxed. Could be a collapsed trachea. He is still on ventipulmin and now more antibiotics. Please keep this sweet little guy in your thoughts

04/16/2026

You all were amazing when we needed help to reach out and get Polo off the auction carousel and into quarantine and seen by a vet who helped him get over his respiratory infection, and get him home- 239 miles!

But we still need your help now that he is here. He needs more than just good brushing and good food, he needs to get his lungs treated so he can breathe. It is so hard to watch him take in a breath. It makes it hard for him to eat- so he's too thin.

So we did the math..... and there is always math in the world of rescue. What is it that we need? Well, he needs to be nebulized, and that takes a nebuilzer, and a small one to fit a small horse, and that nebulizer is the Flexineb 3 Portable Equine Nebulizer System, foal/small pony size. it's about $1700.

We could also use this on Roxy and Wee W***y as they both are prone to asthma/allergies especially when the weather turns to something other than winter. Ventipulmin is $156/ bottle - Roxy takes it, Wee W***y is a consumer and now Polo REALLY needs it. We need to change out bedding to shredded cardboard- and it is $7.99 a bag and it would be ~$65/month for 3 stalls ~$195/month.
We always need your help. Right now we REALLY need your help.
If you have a portable nebulizer that you are no longer using, we'd love that as a donation, we don't need new!
From all of us, from Polo, Roxy, Wee W***y, all the minis, the volunteers and staff, and really everyone connected to this rescue, every visitor and every adopter, we thank you.
We are a 501c3 so that means your donations are charitable contributions.
PayPal: [email protected]
Venmo:
Zelle: 202-222-8836
CashApp: $foxleaminihorse

04/15/2026

Rescue Math. Why we need your help so that we can rescue, rehabilitate, retrain, and rehome. Every mini deserves their forever home. We can only help these minis with YOUR help.

You helped us with the funds to get Polo off the auction circuit, get him into quarantine, get him vetted whilst there and then transported 283 miles to our rescue. And we thank you for that. But now that he is here, he needs more help.

We did the math.... and there is always math in the world of rescue. The nebulizer for a mini/pony/foal is the s best nebulizer for a mini/pony/foal is the Flexineb 3 Portable Equine Nebulizer System, it's about $1700 https://tinyurl.com/2w2m26xa We could also use this on Roxy and Wee W***y as they both are prone to asthma/allergies especially when the weather turns to something other than winter. Ventipulmin is $156/ bottle - Roxy takes it, Wee W***y is a consumer and now Polo REALLY needs it. We need to change out bedding to shredded cardboard- and it is $7.99 a bag and it would be ~$65/month for 3 stalls ~$195/month.
We always need your help. Right now we REALLY need your help.
If you have a portable nebulizer that you are no longer using, we'd love that as a donation, we don't need new!
From all of us, from Polo, Roxy, Wee W***y, the volunteers and staff, and really everyone connected to this rescue, every visitor and every adopter, we thank you.
We are a 501c3 so that means your donations are charitable contributions.
PayPal: [email protected]
Venmo:
Zelle: 202-222-8836
CashApp: $foxleaminihorse

Nebulisation is a treatment technique in which tiny spherical droplets of aerosolised medication are generated and inhaled by the horse. Why use a Nebuliser? A nebuliser devi...

04/15/2026

The vet came this morning. Early enough to beat the heat and to give the vet a chance to listen to Polo's lungs without the additional impact of too much heat too early in the year. (We are in Maryland....)
Polo stood in the paddock chewing his hay, letting that melodious foghorn blast every couple of minutes. It no longer bothers the minis although Luna will still reach through the fence to give him a nuzzle when she can reach him.

Dr. Javier stepped out, took one look across the fence line, and smiled that knowing kind of smile.
“You do find some interesting minis, don’t you?”

A pause. A glance back at Polo.
“Let’s look at this little one.”
Not rushed. Not alarmed. Just… curious.

Polo watched him approach.
Ears flicking. Body tight for a moment. Breath coming a little louder again as the human stepped closer,
new person, new energy, more to take in.
But this human moved like he had all the time in the world.
No pressure. No sudden reach.
Just a quiet presence drifting into Polo’s space.
“Well, hi there,” he murmured, voice low and even. “You’ve had quite a day, haven’t you?”
Polo’s nostrils flared.
Another breath, long, loud, impossible to ignore.

The vet didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. He leaned in just a fraction, listening.
Really listening.

His hand came up slowly, resting on Polo’s neck. Not grabbing. Not restraining. Just there.
“Alright… let’s see what you’re telling us.”
Around them, the herd hovered at a distance.
Oreo stood a little closer than the others now, watching carefully. Fiona quiet and thoughtful. Marco pretending not to care but absolutely paying attention. Arlo tuned in to every shift of sound and energy.
And in the center of it all
Polo.
Still breathing loud. Still unsure. But standing.
Letting himself be touched.
Letting someone try to understand what his body was saying.
The vet moved gently, listening to his chest, watching his sides, watching the muscles reach so deeply to grab air, feeling the rhythm of each breath.
“Okay,” he said softly after a moment. “I hear you.”
Not to anyone else.
To Polo.
Because that’s what this was.
Not just an exam.
But the beginning of someone translating what Polo couldn’t explain himself.
And for the first time since stepping off that trailer, in a place that felt too big and too unfamiliar,
Polo wasn’t just the strange new horse with the scary breathing.
He was a little horse being seen and listened to exactly as he was.

The vet slipped the stethoscope under Polo’s winter fuzz and pressed it gently against his side.
Everything went quiet. Even the herd seemed to hold still.

He listened. Longer than usual. Shifted the bell. Listened again.
His brow furrowed just slightly, not panic, not urgency… just concentration. The kind that comes when you’re trying to hear past the noise to the truth underneath.

Polo breathed. That same deep, hollow, foghorn sound rolled out of him again.
The vet didn’t move away. He stayed right there, listening through it, letting it speak.
A few more seconds. Another position. Another long pause.
Then he straightened slowly, one hand still resting on Polo’s side.
“Well…” he said, exhaling a little. “Good news is, he doesn’t have any infections.”
You could almost feel the air shift with that.

“But,” he added gently, eyes going back to Polo, “his bronchial tubes are pretty swollen.”
He gave Polo’s neck a soft pat. “This little guy’s got asthma.”

Not said like a sentence. Said like a starting point.
Like something understandable. Manageable.
Polo flicked an ear, as if he knew the conversation was about him, even if he didn’t understand the words.
“That breathing you’re hearing,” said Javier, “that’s him working harder than he should to move air. Airways are tight, inflamed… everything’s just a bit restricted.”
Another quiet moment. Then a small, reassuring nod.
“Let’s get treatment started for that. We’ll help open things up, calm the inflammation. Give him a some time to settle in, let his body catch its breath—literally—and then we’ll scope him and take a better look.”
No rush. Just a plan: Polo be fed from the ground to keep him from getting too much dusty from his hay, (steaming would be ideal) and lets try soaking his feed. Make him some alfalfa soup to help with weight gain. Change out the stall bedding into shredded cardboard so his dust is low when he is in the stall- and he needs stall time as he is a very slow eater and is very thin. And then let's nebulize.

So we did the math.... and there is always math in the world of rescue. The nebulizer for a mini/pony/foal is the s best nebulizer for a mini/pony/foal is the Flexineb 3 Portable Equine Nebulizer System, it's about $1700 https://tinyurl.com/2w2m26xa We could also use this on Roxy and Wee W***y as they both are prone to asthma/allergies especially when the weather turns to something other than winter. Ventipulmin is $156/ bottle - Roxy takes it, Wee W***y is a consumer and now Polo REALLY needs it. We need to change out bedding to shredded cardboard- and it is $7.99 a bag and it would be ~$65/month for 3 stalls ~$195/month.

We always need your help. Right now we REALLY need your help.
If you have a portable nebulizer that you are no longer using, we'd love that as a donation, we don't need new!

From all of us, from Polo, Roxy, Wee W***y, the volunteers and staff, and really everyone connected to this rescue, every visitor and every adopter, we thank you.

We are a 501c3 so that means your donations are charitable contributions.

PayPal: [email protected]

Venmo:

Zelle: 202-222-8836

CashApp: $foxleaminihorse

04/14/2026

Excuse us if we are too easily entertained but now we have Marco and Polo 🤣

04/13/2026

Polo arrived quietly.
Not in the way of hooves striking ground or the shuffle of a new body in a paddock, but in the way a horse carries himself when he’s unsure what comes next. Head a little high. Eyes searching.
Breathing just a touch harder than it should be.

He stood at the fence first.
On the other side, the herd watched.
Oreo was the first to move.
Oreo, with his mismatched legs and body that tells a story most don’t understand at first glance, but a heart so steady it makes everything else irrelevant. He didn’t rush. Didn’t pin his ears or posture.
He just… walked over.
Slow. Direct. Certain.
Fiona lifted her head from the hay, watching carefully. Always thoughtful, always reading the room before stepping into it, deciding that eating was more important at that moment so she went back to chewing. Arlo turned his face toward the sound, ears flicking forward, mapping the moment in his own way. Marco, of course, had opinions, circling a bit, curious, maybe wondering if this newcomer might be fun.

But Oreo?
Oreo chose.
The gate opened.
Polo stepped in, tentative but trying, really trying,to be brave in a place that smelled unfamiliar, filled with horses he didn’t yet understand.

And Oreo closed the distance.
No squeal.
No drama.
Just presence.
He reached out first.
A soft touch at the shoulder.
A quiet breath exchanged.
Polo hesitated for only a heartbeat… and then leaned in.
It was small. So small you could have missed it if you blinked.
But it was everything.
Oreo shifted, turning just enough, an invitation. A silent, “You can stand here.”
And Polo did.
Nose to neck.
Neck to shoulder.
The beginning of something fragile and hopeful.
Then, almost like they had practiced it their whole lives, they began to groom each other.
Careful at first. Testing.
Then steadier. More certain.
Polo followed Oreo’s lead, placing his trust one tiny decision at a time.
And Oreo, sweet, steady Oreo, accepted it without hesitation.
He showed him where to stand.
Where the hay pile was best.
How to move through the space without worry.
He didn’t overwhelm him.
He didn’t push.
He just… stayed.
Nearby, Fiona softened, seeing the connection settle into place. Arlo stood quietly, the rhythm of the moment clear even without sight. Marco eventually wandered closer, curiosity winning, but even he seemed to understand this was something gentle, something important.
And in the middle of it all...
Polo.
Who had arrived unsure, guarded, holding his breath in more ways than one…
Let it out.
Not all at once.
But enough.
Enough to follow.
Enough to trust.
Enough to say, in the quiet language of horses
“I think I’m safe here.”
And Oreo answered, the only way he knows how:
By standing beside him.
By choosing him.
By showing him, step by step, that sometimes the way forward isn’t something you have to find alone.
Sometimes… someone meets you at the fence
and walks you home.

04/12/2026

This is an overdue THANK YOU.

From all of us at Fox Lea Mini Horse Rescue… thank you, thank you, thank you.

When we shared that we were preparing for the Land of Little Horses auction, so many of you stepped forward without hesitation. You trusted us. You gave. You stood ready to help whatever horse needed us most. As it turned out, the horses at that auction were going to good homes, and because of that, we didn’t need to step in.

But your generosity did not go unused.

Because of you, we were able to say yes to Polo. A little paint mini with a big, foghorn breath, sick, scared, struggling, and needing help. The kind of horse who might have been overlooked. The kind of horse who needed a place to land.

And because of you—he has one.

Your donations became his chance to get off the auction carousel, get into quarantine, get seen and treated by a vet for some of his respiratory issues and finally to get transport to Fox Lea Mini Horse Rescue. We have many more steps to take with this little guy. We will talk about them in a future post, but in the meantime. Thank you.

This is what makes this community so extraordinary. You don’t just give to a moment—you give to the mission. You trust that when the need appears, we’ll be ready. And because of you, we were.
Polo is here. He is safe. And his story is just beginning.
From the bottom of our hearts… thank you for standing with us, and for helping the littlest horses find their way home.

Please come and visit us. I know Polo would love to say thank you to everyone who gave him a chance.

04/12/2026

Polo finally arrived at Fox Lea after four long hours on the road. He was tired, scared, and carrying that deep, rattling breath with him like a warning siren he couldn’t turn off.
When he stepped off the trailer, everything was new. New smells. New ground. New horses.
And new eyes on him.

The minis noticed him immediately.
Heads popped up across the paddock. Ears forward. Bodies still. That quiet, collective “Who is this?” that ripples through a herd when something unfamiliar arrives.
Polo tried to take it all in.
And then he breathed.
Loud. Long. That foghorn sound that is raw and startling, echoing out of him before he could soften it.
The reaction was instant.

Three minis jumped back at once. One spun halfway around. Another froze, neck stretched high, eyes wide.
They stared at him like he had just spoken in a language no horse had ever heard before.
What… is that? James the donkey did it the best, ears on full donkey alert and eyes wide so that nothing was missed.
Polo didn’t mean to scare anyone. But his body was doing what it needed to do, pulling in air the only way it knew how right now. Stress, travel, whatever was going on inside his chest,it all came out in that sound.
Again.
Another breath.
Another foghorn.

More jumping. More wide eyes. A few cautious steps backward.
The herd wasn’t being unkind.
They were just… confused.

Horses understand a lot without words, but this? This didn’t match anything in their normal playbook. Breathing isn’t supposed to sound like that. Not loud. Not sharp. Not big like that.
So they did what horses do best when something doesn’t make sense:
They watched.
They gave space.
They tried to figure it out.

And Polo?
He stood there in the middle of it making noise he couldn’t control, watching everyone react to him, not quite understanding why his body was making introductions so… loudly.
It’s a hard way to arrive somewhere new.

But here’s the beautiful part about horses ,and especially a herd like the minis at Fox Lea:
Curiosity always comes back.
After the first startle fades… someone always steps forward again.
One brave nose.
One cautious step.
One quiet, “Let me try to understand you.”
Because even when something is strange, or loud, or a little scary at first…
Horses don’t stop asking the question:
Are you okay?

04/06/2026

One of the many foxes in our life 😊