For a week after his death, tributes to our friend Dino poured in: e-mails, cards, and letters. In his stall, Lorraine erected a hay-bail shrine upon which his many fans placed their offerings: flowers, carrots and apples, a hand-painted sign reading "Dino's Bliss Was Here," jars of applesauce--the only treat we could give him (unless we were willing to pre-chew carrots and apples). Julie placed a notebook outside his stall for people's remembrances, and the pages filled.

A week later, though (the same day Dino's ashes arrived) we had to deconstruct the shrine, for we needed Dino's stall for a mama pig and her four piglets found in the house of an animal hoarder. It was time, anyway. Dino, such an unassuming guy, would have thought all the fuss rather silly.

Today, an unexpected tribute arrived from a Brooklyn police officer who knew Dino well. We have invited the officer to speak at Dino's memorial on Saturday, September 8. How I hope he (she?) will come.

Here's the letter:

A friend sent me two lovely and heartbreaking articles detailing the passing of that mighty little pony Dino and as I write to you my face is still wet with tears.

You see, the 21 horses who died in that terrible stable fire 7 years ago were all my friends. The New York City Dept. of Parks and Recreation Brooklyn Mounted Unit had our office on the stable property and each day we turned out of that barn. Our borough command was small and I, as a corporal, was the ranking officer for that station.

But we did not simply work there, we socialized with all the horse owners, had barbeques, rode until the light was gone. That barn was our lives.

My command lost two mounts that night but more than that, we all lost so many equine friends.

Three horses made it out of that incendiary hell: Tiffany, the show pony of a local girl, a mare, whose name I have sadly forgotten (Jenny?) but whose owners took home to graze and regroup on their own lawn (Kathy's note: we heard she died shortly after the fire) and Dino, the absolute favorite of all who met him.

I got to the barn when the fire was still blazing and there was little to do xcept stand back and let the firemen do what they could. When the blazes were out so many were gone but out in the farthest corner of the ring,our vet, Dr. Farrell, and the doctor/son-in-law of the owner of the barn were tending to the two ponies. I suggested that the ponies be transported to the NYPD
Mounted Unit facility in Coney Island and the vet agreed. After obtaining permission from my sergeant, my partner and I loaded the injured and badly shocked ponies into the Parks' two-horse trailer. Tiffany could hardly stand, although it was Dino who was in dramatically poorer shape.

I drove as my partner, Laura Teeple, struggled to hold two small horses upright in the back of the trailer. She would call to me if I were going too fast and I shouted to her before making any turn. We made very slow progress and the six mile ride seemed interminable.

We arrived at Troop E safely, guided the ponies up the steep ramp and into stalls where they both began their recoveries.

Sometime around 2003 I heard news that Tiffany had died. She remained a show pony for that little girl and was well cared for and loved. But colic took her as it does so many horses.

The story of Dino's passing touched me deeply. That tragic night has always stayed with me and in some ways, has shaped my life. To know that no matter how we tend and nurture, how ever much we love, that life is transient after all.

It does bring me comfort to know I did the very best I could that night and even more to see that the Catskill Animal Sanctuary picked up where we in Brooklyn left off. Thank you for everything you do.

Respectfully to all involved,

Jessie Cowan