Sue: The Barefoot Dreamer Who Built a Herd
If you’ve ever wandered into Rainbow’s End and felt instantly at peace — like the land itself was exhaling — chances are, Sue had something to do with it.
Sue is the soul of MEPT. For over 25 years, she’s poured her heart, hands, and (often muddy) boots into building a place where horses heal, people connect, and nature is more than a backdrop — it’s a teacher. She’s the kind of person who sees a half-wild pony and imagines a future full of trust and transformation. Who dreams up sensory trails, barefoot paddocks, and inclusive programmes over a cup of tea — and then ropes Tim into making them real.
A Life Lived Close to the Herd
If her hips allowed it, Sue would live her life shoeless on horseback, singing to the wind and feeding ponies from her pockets. She’s happiest with hay in her hair and a horse breathing into her shoulder. Her connection with the herd is quiet and intuitive — built on patience, presence, and a deep respect for each animal’s story. She doesn’t just care for horses; she listens to them.
Crazy Ideas and Compassionate Action
Sue’s ideas are legendary. One minute she’s sketching out a new sensory garden for neurodivergent children, the next she’s adapting a mechanical horse to help someone ride again after injury. Her creativity is boundless — and thankfully, Tim’s engineering skills are too. Together, they’ve turned Sue’s wildest visions into real-world magic: stables that soothe, programmes that empower, and spaces that welcome everyone, just as they are.
A Hippie at Heart, a Leader by Nature
Don’t let the flower crown fool you — Sue is strong. She’s weathered storms (literal and emotional), advocated fiercely for animals and people, and held the reins through every twist and turn of MEPT’s journey. Her leadership is rooted in empathy, not ego. She leads by doing, by dreaming, and by daring to believe that healing is possible — for horses, for humans, and for the land they share.
The Magic of Showing Up
What makes Sue extraordinary isn’t just her vision — it’s her presence. She shows up. For the early feeds, the hard conversations, the quiet breakthroughs. She’s there when a child touches a pony for the first time, when a rescue horse takes its first trusting step, when a volunteer finds their rhythm. She holds space for it all — with joy, with gentleness, and with the kind of love that changes lives.