All Saints Day....and my mom.

Eleven years ago today, I lost my mom.  I guess I didn't really lose her.  I think that she is in heaven.  But, I can't call or visit her anymore.  She doesn't check on me or give me the news of my hometown anymore.  No birthday pies or presents.  No more mema to my kids.  No more unconditional love.   Now, that is the tough one.  But, the gifts that she gave me just keep on giving.  I feel her inside of me sometimes.  

Hazel Frances Russell Heaton was born Oct. 17, 1923.  She was the oldest of 5 children.  Her mom, my grandmother, was a fabulous cook.  My mom....good, but not fabulous.  She used to tell me that her mom would say, "Hazel, do you want to cook or watch the babies?"  She always opted for watching the babies!!!  She was the most kind gentle soul, I've ever met.  Even at her most angry, she was calm and quiet.  I did not inherit any of these traits from her.  I think I'm more like my dad.  That, is a subject for another blog!!  She was very old fashioned.  She always reminded me to be a little more lady-like.  She never EVER swore.  She  was always thoughtful of others, and  never put herself first.  

There is a story of how I was announced or discovered to the family.   My mom was 40 years old and thought that she had gone through menopause.  She became sick at her stomach and couldn't get over it.  The other kids had the stomach flu but somehow, she couldn't get over hers.  My dad took a sample of our well water in for testing.  She went into the hospital because she had become dehydrated.  when the doctor finished testing, he informed everyone that the only thing wrong was that she was a good 6 weeks pregnant.  He noted that with her age, there could be complications and if she wanted to do something about it(abort) she could.  So, my first gift, she carried me to term and taught me to respect life.  Thank you Mama.  

My mom, always made us go to church.  It wasn't an option.  She never missed.  She always read her sunday school lesson.  She loved the old hymns.  She was not very demonstrative about her faith.  I rarely ever heard her pray.  I always saw her pray though.  My second gift, God first, family second, go to church and you will be able to handle whatever comes your way.  Thank you mama.  

My parents were married for 54 yrs before she died.  I didn't say that they were always in sync or always happy happy.  Nope, they argued, stayed mad for days, griped about each other to us kids.  But, they worked it out, never gave up, always stayed together and knew that they were each others best friend and honored the commitments to God.  Yes, that's quite a gift, thank you Mama.

When things weren't easy for me or I griped about my situation or my husband, my mom had a number of different things that she'd tell me.  They usually included, oh, you can stand on your head for that long ( or this will pass)  or you can do this, don't give up or you picked a fine man to be your husband, he is a man, but he's good, work it out.  Pray about it.  Pray without ceasing.  Your the smartest girl.  Your so good .  I'm so proud of you.  You're so creative.  You're such a good mom.  Some of the best gifts....thank you mama.

When my mom was dying and in the hospital and it was my turn to sit with her as I lived close by, she insisted that I go home because my kids were young.  Now, I'm just fine.  The kids need you and you need to be home with them.  She was so totally calm when she said this.  She said she was tired and going to sleep.  Please just go home to your kids.  So, I went home.  The next day, my sisters said that she had gotten upset at the hospital.  She was afraid to die alone.  But, she sent me home because she was as always, thinking of me first.  Thank you mama.

I will always miss her.  Most days are happy memories.  Today, I am a little blue.  I think it's because I am selfish and miss what she did for me.  But, I am so thankful for having had her.  And how fitting is it that my lovely little mama left this world on all saints day?  I think it is just right.  So, happy happy all saints day mama and daddy.  I miss you both.  I love you both.  I didn't appreciate you enough.  

My Golden Boy

Today is my husband's 50th birthday. We have been together for 25 years now. You learn a lot about a person in 25 years. You learn a lot about a person when you have gone to college while dating, gotten married, moved 500 miles from home, had children, raised children, then teenagers, sent them off to college, buried your parents, ran a business, survived a tornado, frantically dealt with health issues with your children, left your underware in the floor, left the lid up on the toilet......you get the picture.

The first time I ever saw my husband he was 6'3" tall, about 155 lbs, had a toboggan pulled down over his beet red face and ears, coveralls on which were too short because he's so tall, manure on his boots and he was terribly, painfully shy. My cousin had been telling me and my Dad what a great guy this man was and how I just had to meet him. I took one look and thought, "you have got to be kidding." Fast forward a year or so. My cousin is still talking about this vet student who worked at the clinic where she worked. This time he hadn't just arrived from pulling a calf. He may have had a few more lbs on his very long legs and arms and well maybe he was kind of nice.

By this time, he had decided that I was far too young for him. We talked over the summer but by fall, I realized that this wasn't going to happen, so in the fall I went off to school. In true horsedoc fashion, he waited until I moved 2 hrs away until he decided to ask me out. It was Oct. 13, 1984, and we have been together since then. Last week, he called me into our office and told me that I needed to look at something on my desk. It was a bag from a jeweler with one of those Pandora's box bracelets. It had a charm for faith, hope and love, one for each child, a horse, representing our business, and a charm that represents the jouney, with hills and valley's. He had remembered that our first date was on Oct. 13, 25 years ago and had bought this for me. I didn't remember. It was one of the sweetest things he has ever done. It certainly is better than the car mats that I got for Christmas during one of our much earlier years. Like fine wine, he is improving with age, even though the thought of aging is a little unsettling to him.

On this day, October 18, 2009, I celebrate the birth of a wonderful man, my husband, the father of my children, the son of Joe and Loretta, a passionate horseman, a caring veterinarian amd a faithful catholic christian man. I am so proud of this boy who came from a terribly small coal mining town, who was the second generation of coal miners, who had a dream to be a horse vet since age4, who does what he sets out to do no matter the challenge.

He truly loves his job. It is his vocation. I watch as he deals with each horse and he really really cares. It isn't merely a paycheck. When he is treating horse that isn't doing as well as he'd like, he worries, checks on them, even though there is no appointment, he studies, constantly, he consults with the necessary specialist to be sure he is headed in the right direction.

He is a good father. He does a better job with teenagers than I do. He is becoming very sentimental with the kids. While this is a little uncomfortable with them, they will be so glad to have it as time goes on. He is a great son. He is a warrior for his mother. He was a thoughtful grandson. My parents were so proud of him. I am so proud of him.

So on this day of his 50th birthday, I am so grateful for this man and all that he is becoming. I am thankful to God for a man who tries to follow God's will first. I am thankful to his mom for the gift of her son. I am thankful to my children who are daily reminders of their Dad. So, have a happy happy birthday and know that you are loved!!

Donkey 101, Superstitions, Home Remedies....Just a Few Things I'm Learning

I have a new appreciation for donkeys. There are sayings and anecdotes regarding their strength and stubborn nature. Recently, there seems to have been an onslaught of miniature donkeys in our clinic. Now, I am not the girl who grew up around horses and donkeys. I married into the horse world. I am always learning about horses. I am learning restraint techniques and trying to learn about their behavior, hoping that this will make me do a better job at the clinic. A few Sunday's back, horsedoc was paged about a mini donkey named Juliette. She recieved a horseshoe shaped cut on her muzzle, which was literally peeled down. The owner had gone to a friend who was a small animal vet the week before who had stapled it back. This Sunday, the wound was falling apart and ooozing pus. The location of the wound made haltering her prohibative. She weighed 250 lbs. Now, this is the best advice that I can give to anyone who needs to work with a donkey. Accept the fact that you are not in charge!! You will do what you need with the donkey, when and only when it is the donkey's idea. Juliette had some nice anesthesia drugs, had a lead shank around her neck, had 3 adults restraining her who probably outweighed her by....... alot and she almost broke us. She was only about 38" tall, so we were all crouched down on stools, which were on wheels. She rolled us all over the exam room. I got a cramp because I held the same position for such a long time. The owner tripped trying to restrain her. He fell off the stool and she ran over him. Then, horsedoc got a charley horse during the 2 hrs that it took to clean, debride and resuture a swollen, old wound. If this had been a 1200# belgium it would have been so easy. I was so shocked that this little gal had that quiet strength. It was impressive and it imspired me. When things get tough and telemarketers call, salespeople who ignore my no solicitatin sign, come in, people try to avoid paying their bills, I'm gonna be like Juliette. I'm gonna plant my feet, stick to my guns, show no emotion and quietly, subtly push so that no one notices and gradually and continually add more pressure. On the inside, I'll be smiling, thinking about how much of life I've learned from an ass.


We also met a miniature donkey named Donkey Boy. He is a little stallion who fought with a full sized horse over the attentions of the mare in heat in the next field. He and his broken pelvis lost. He has so much swelling and pain that he was unable to poop. This is why he is a resident at the clinic. Until some healing occurs, we monitor his intake and poop, adjusting as needed and giving enemas and NG tubing with oil, water and electrolytes until he can do this on his own.


Donkey Boy looks just like Eyore from Winnie the Pooh. He looks depressed, no matter what and his tail hairs are few and far between. It's all I can do not to put a pink ribbon in it. Donkey has periods of eating, drinking and pooping and you think, Oh he's better and will be able to go home. Then it all stops and his belly looks like if you touched it with a pin, it would explode all over the walls. That's when the tubing and enemas, and worry starts. One day it had been 3-4 days since he'd pooped. He was looking rather large and painful. He was groaning. Horsedoc had treated him and left on farm calls. I was there and had been trying to make friends all along. Donkey was having none of that. But when he felt so so bad, he didn't mind me being there so much. I went in and he started to groan. So, I started rubbing his belly. After about 5 minutes, he pooped. I was so excited. I bragged to horsedoc about my belly rubbing techniques. It became a joke that if horsedoc needed help with treatments, I'd do a little belly rubbing so that Donkey would poop.


Donkey recovered from that episode and had a few great days and then, as always, stopped pooping again. I would ask day after day how he was doing and each day little to no poop. I kept saying that I'd go in and rub his belly, but I didn't get around to it. On a Saturday evening, horsedoc was worried and wanted to go in to treat him. I told him that I'd go too and rub Donkey's belly. On the way to the clinic, horsedoc was paged about a horse that got a foot caught in barbed wire. He told them to meet us there. By the time we finished treating Donkey, they would be there and then we'd take care of the wound. We got to the clinic and when we walked back to the stalls, Donkey was lying flat out and not batting an eye. His stomach was so bloated that he looked like 3 day old road kill. I asked horsedoc if he was dead. He started calling to him. No movement. Then we get to the door and he jumps right up. It scared us to death. He was in a lot of pain. He was enormous. He was not drinking and no poop in 3-4 days. Horsedoc starts getting the items together for treatment and he said, "If you get him to poop, I'll give you ten dollars." He proceeded to treat him. I rubbed his belly. We started to prep for the cut that was coming in. The cut was truly nasty. Barbed wire and horses do NOT mix. This horse had totally cut the hide off. The skin was so destroyed that there wasn't anything to suture to. Daily bandaging, which is so time consuming and costly was the only choice of treatment. Then, we found a cut on his head that needed suturing. It was beginning to get late. I'd been gone most of the day and Lou Lou had the swine flu. The skies opened and it started to pour. We finally finished the cut. I went to the computer to check the people out and horsedoc started to clean. The owners took the horse to load him onto the trailer. I am madly entering in the data, thinking that I'm a neglectful mom who left the dinner dishes on the counter and still have a horse at home to rebandage, when horsedoc runs in the room and throws $10.00 down on the computer. I look at it thinking, what are the owners thinking putting $10.00 down a very expensive after hours charge. Then, it hit me.....Donkey had pooped. Not just one poop pile, but many many poop piles. We both hooped and hollered and did the happy dance, like a football player after a touchdown. I, naturally, took credit for it, even though horsedoc helped a little with tubing, high colonic enemas and meds.


We get the owners off and head home. We decide to divide and conquer. He will tranq the mare to change the bandage and I will do dishes and be Mom. I am finishing the dishes when the horsedoc calls. I know, your thinking, he's in the barn and he calls. Sometimes we call the kids upstairs when we're in bed, just so they can find the remote!! I digress. He sounds tired and frustrated. He says he's tranqed her and her head is dragging the ground, but the minute he touches her leg, she aims for his head. Will I please, come hold and twitch her. When I arrive at the barn, this mare is making me nervous because she is like a weeble whose wobbling so much that I am afraid she will fall on horsedoc. I take the lead shank and thump her with it and say wake up. She jumps and horsedoc gives me the I am your father and you've misbehaved look and says, "I'd appreciate it if you'd not get me killed. She's not gonna fall on me. They never do, just give her her head, it'll be alright. I am ubber grouchy and start fussing to no one in particular. He finishes and moves and I hand him the lead rope and I look at Mary(Mary Quite Contrary, aka horsedoc's mare) and say, OK, fall down now, I don't care anymore. And.... she falls down!! Horsedoc looks at me holds his hand out palm facing me and says, " You.....you take your hexing ways back to the house." "you rub a donkey's belly twice and he poops, then you tell Mary to fall and she does, just let me finish and you go to the house."

Growing up in western Kentucky it's not unusual to hear the old timers talk about doing things by the signs, following home remedies, people laying hands on, superstitions and the like. Horsedoc and I scoff most of the time. We're huge fans of the Andy Griffith Show and love to laugh at the antics of the Darling family and their mountain traditions. We love to laugh at Granny in the Beverly Hillbillies and all of her home medical concoctions. Sometimes I can see how these ideas have come to be. Maybe the earth really isn't flat. Who knows. Sometimes I wonder how many things we scoff at that are more than we give them credit for. Animals are so interesting. They, like my children make me crazy and fill my life with love, happiness and stories. They are God's creatures, that according to today's readings, were the first idea as a companion to man. And while they didn't measure up, they are a lovely creation that adds joy to our family. They always teach me and continuously amaze me.

Hidden Talents

I am great at mucking stalls. I'm not trying to brag. It's just a fact. I am very particular and work very hard at finding all of the hidden spots (pee). I am sure that you are thinking that perhaps I have been breathing the fumes of all of that poop I've been scooping. Who cares if you can scoop manure into buckets and haul it off. The horses don't really appreciate it. I smell really bad afterwards. I haven't discovered anything great or achieved world peace or even bi-partisan cooperation (not sure which one is harder to achieve). So why should anyone want or need to know of this great talent of mine?

I'm 45 yrs old. I am totally in shock. It's not like I fell asleep at 30 or even 35 and just woke up at 45 yrs. old. No, I've been present every step of the way. I didn't really think too much about my age until gray hairs started to sprout AND my kids started college. The numbers didn't mean so much until they were paired with this transition of being a mom to teens to being the mom of young adults. If I live to 90, my life is half over. My parents were 75 (mom) and 80 (dad) when they died. Since I feel more like my mom, that means I've only got 30 yrs left!!

OH MY GOODNESS!!! What have I done with my life? Let's see, I've got a degree in elementary education. I used that to substitute teach for 1 1/2 yrs. until horsedoc broke his leg while I was 5 months pregnant. Then I was full time mom ( 3 kids in 3 1/2 yrs). Then I started working in the clinic once we moved to TN. I can't sing or draw or paint. I don't have any sport I'm particularly good at. I can cook, but only good enough for family or close friends. As this inventory forms in my mind, I start to feel sorry for myself. Ok, I am a grown up.....an old grown up, knock that off. You have much to be grateful for. When I start to feel particularly lost, I look to our sainted (almost) Mother Teresa. What would she say to all of this. Mother Teresa took every thing from God as something beautiful. She saw Jesus in the eyes of the sick and dying, in the poorest of the poor. She would often speak of the importance of doing small things and doing them with great love. She helped us to see that we could all contribute even in the smallest way if only we do it with great love.

So, I've decided to try to notice the small things and to do them with great love. So here it is, manure, I'm good at mucking stalls. I save the poop into a poop only pile so that it can become fertilizer. I love the smell of fresh pine or cedar shavings. I like the instant gratification of a clean stall. This particular talent isn't grand or glamourous. Perhaps if I can find joy in this I can find it in other not so obvious places. I'm gonna keep trying.

Goosebumps!

Today at mass much of the homily focused on doing your best, being your best, in the small things of life so that they become something great for God. These small supposedly mundane acts will become extraordinary if we have faith, in spite of our doubts, and do our very best. Enjoy the common. Appreciate the everyday. Certainly words intended for my ears and heart to hear.
This weekend we visited the Kentucky Horse Park in Lexington Ky. They are gearing up for the World Equestrian Games to be held in 2010. The new facilities are simply amazing. The amount of construction underway is unbelievable. It will be the premiere venue for equestrian sports of any kind. While we were there the North American young riders were there competing. This the best of the best of young riders in various disciplines probably on track for the olympics. We watched dressage, show jumping, eventers on cross country and reining. The number of huge dark warm blood, thoroughbred, arabs and the like was astounding. You never looked at a horse and said oh, he must move well, he's really not that pretty. It was just one beautiful beast after another. There is so much money, work, miles sweat and tears tied up in these animals and the sport that they are involved in.
I love to watch cross country. It is simply thrilling. The reining is fun to watch but my ADD brain becomes bored after a while. I didn't really think that dressage was exciting until I watched free style. It is so beautiful. It's like ballroom dancing with a partner whose beautiful and graceful and not always willing or understanding. During the freestyle we saw one young girl hurt when a horse spooked and reared hitting her head. She had a broken collar bone, stitches in her lip and a concussion. After her fall, the horse took off. He didn't come back to the rider, he was out of there. We saw one horse obviously sour who tried on a number of occasions to lose his rider both inside and outside of the dressage ring. We watched stadium jumping and saw horses who would spook at various jumps or get really close before jumping so that it looked like they might refuse. There were many refusals too. A few riders whose horse would refuse would take the whip and really get after them to go over the jump. They would do this till the judge would eliminate them. I know that it's probably necessary to some degree to teach the horse to follow the rider. I guess I'm just not a great competitor. I like the relationship that I see between horse and rider. That's what gets me every time. There were so many breath taking rides but the last rider to compete in freestyle dressage is the one that gave me goosebumps. I don't know what so many of the movements need to look like to really appreciate. I can usually tell an obvious blunder, but a beautiful routine is a beautiful routine. The most beautiful site of all is a relaxed horse responding to his rider and a grateful rider. The last rider finished and immediately fell down on her horses neck in the most loving hug ever. She didn't stop loving and patting on this horse until she was well out of the ring. To me, that everyday love. That everyday trust, that everyday building of a relationship that is culminated in a show like that......well that's just the best. Maybe that lesson can be carried over into our children or work or any project. Maintain the relationship, keep doing the small things with love whether we understand why or not. Keep going in the everyday until you get.......goosebumps!

Forget Prada, the Devil wears Ariats.......

Divas come in all forms. The girls in LA and NYC have nothing on the girls that hang out in barns. In some of the early childhood courses that I took in college, play therapy was a great way of learning about a child from a developmental and psychological standpoint. I think that observing owners with their animals could offer much of those same benefits. One of the first employees that worked for us had gone to school to work in a medical office and had done her internship in a psychologist office. She kept telling me how normal those clients were compared to some of ours!!! I guess those had accepted their problems already. Most of our clients are really nice, normal, fun-loving folks, but the exceptions to that rule just really seem to stand out!

A great number of clients frequently point out the various things that I have that they have bought us, such as our fencing, barn, car or even the very roof over my head. They bring us catalogs showing us prices on pharmaceuticals that are lower than our prices. When we first moved to Tennessee, we went to a 4-H dinner because we had donated money and were getting a certificate of appreciation. While we were having dinner a lady in the crowd kept frowning at me. I was sitting near another 4-H mom that I knew and I asked her if it was my imagination or was that lady( whom I didn't even know) was giving me a dirty look. "Oh my, well, yes, she's giving you a dirty look." "Why, I don't even know her?" "Well, she thinks that because you drive a new mini van, that you are the reason your husband's charges are so much!"

Once a physcians wife wanted us to write free health certificates to all pony club children. I replied that we had a policy that we didn't donate to individuals but to groups. In fact we had donated to the pony club itself. She was furious and told me that her husband gave fee physicals to student atheletes and told me just how awful we were.

There are those who want discounts on farm calls because of where they live, because they've rescued a horse, because they just need a break, because so and so does it cheaper, because you didn't really have to spend that much time on it, because, because, because.....

Working for the public makes me tired. There are days that I just love it because of all of the really special people that we do work for. It's just the divas that make me tired. "I'm the reason you're in business and I can take you out." Yes I've really been told that too.

We try to go to work every day and give the best service at the best price we can and still have a profitable business. Sometimes I wonder why we work so hard for so little left over and get harrassed for it in the meantime. It's not because of me, that 's for sure. It's because of my husband. He LOVES horses. He was called to be a horse vet. He is so thrilled when he is able to diagnose and treat and make better a suffering horse. The babies melt his heart. He's such a sucker. He talks sweeter to the mares than to me sometimes! And so, he and his sweet heart(most of the time) is the reason I do it too.

Pomp and Circumstance

Last weekend, my second child graduated from high school. I've never really regarded that as an accomplishment for the parent before, but I'm starting to rethink that. This doesn't mean that I am underestimating her hard work over the years, it just means that it occurred to me that with 2 down and 1 to go, that a lot of carpooling, field trips, birthday cupcakes, fund raising, practices and games, paying for tuition, uniforms, books, gas, overly priced, bad lunches, get your homework, do ya have a clean uniform,do your service hours, to them driving, worry, worry, worry,friends and drama, dances and prom, college visits, applications,ACT, AP classes until at last finals and graduation, have consumed this household and taken over the contents of my sadly slender wallet for a lot of years! Do I suddenly think that my wallet's size will increase with the transition from this school to the next? I'm not hardly that naive, but, now the burden of get up, get it washed, get it finished, eat, sleep, study, study, study will fall squarely on my daughter's shoulders. One step closer to self responsibility. I think she's ready. I think she'll do fine, probably far better than I ever did.

Graduation from high school makes me feel old. Older than I felt at 40. Now, when you speak of your children, you're not speaking of kids or even teens, but young adults. How did that happen? I don't remember it happening but all of the sudden, here we are. If I could have any wish for her today, it would be that my parents were here to love and cheer her on. We need our villages to encourage us and help us through. They would have been so proud. My Mom was so blindly biased about each of her 6 kids. We were the best at whatever we did. She was such a source of calm and of unconditional love. I wish that I had taken after her instead of from my Dad who just told the "truth" about you like it or not, pretty or not and usually when you wanted it least, but my family tends to see him in me more than her. I catch myself behaving like him more and more of the time as I get older. I've coined a term for it, a Raymondesque moment.

Maybe this is a graduation of sorts for parents too. Somehow I don't much feel like throwing my hat in the air or staying up all night to party. I just sit back in my recliner reflecting on how fast this all happened. My Dad told me it would. I guess I should have listened.

Life Passing By....

Tonight, My beautiful daughter went off to prom. While she is obviously beautiful outside(see the picture), let me give you a glimpse inside. It is a hard economic time for this family and we shopped for a dress that we could afford. She finally picked a dress under $50.00. While her friends had hair and make up done by professionals, she did her own. She didn't complain.....no, she did the coolest hair do you could imagine. I doubt those girls going to the salon got anything nearly so cool. She did her own makeup and it looked great. Instead of asking for money for a limo, she drove her Dad's old pick-up truck!!

I don't know if she really knows it, but she has the creativity to do things far better than just going to a store and paying enormously for some flash in the pan prom du jour dress. She comes up the the best hair styles. It might be really fun to be able to go to the salon and have someone pamper you and get a great do.....but, I really admire what she does and the flair with which she does it. How can it be that she is my daughter? While her father certainly has his talents, I doubt she gets these from him either.

This night, this event helped us to realize just how utterly amazing she's turning out. I'm sure I don't deserve it.

Lenten Lessons

Today started out as any day would. The sun is shinning beautifully. That always starts the day off right. I arrive at work to the usual set of tasks awaiting my attention. I start to tackle one thing at a time and as the day goes along I see mistakes that I've made. My teenagers are around being typical teenagers, wanting help with their needs, while office needs are screaming for my attention. A bad economy and financial pressures bend me towards work while my heart wants to be at home cleaning and spending time with the kids. As these thoughts all compete for my attention the inventory of all things needed to be done or neglected start to take shape in my head. Pressure, pressure, pressure. I want MY Mom! I want to be able to drive to western Kentucky and pull into their driveway and just unburden my heart to two people that I know would listen and care. I feel alone and overwhelmed. There is a big weight on my shoulders that seemed to appear from nowhere. I was okay earlier. Where did all of this come from.

Tonight I went to mass. I didn't really want to go. My heart wasn't in it, but I went and prayed to be a better person. One who didn't sit and feel sorry for herself, one who truly appreciated the sacrifice of this season. I sat there in that pew and thought, I don't even get this. I am so far from where I need to be, how did this happen? And then, it occurred to me that they were taking Jesus away today. Perhaps on some innate level, I started feeling the weight of this world today and did so by thinking of handling it on MY OWN. How alone and hopeless things seem on our own power. Perhaps I was given a lesson, a gift, a reminder......Thanks be to God.

Exit 98

A page came through about 8 pm one recent evening. It was a frantic lady and her mom are traveling from Louisianna to Kentucky with a thoroghbred mare and colt in tow. She was being taken to a breeding farm in Lexington. The colt was less than 30 days old. The mare's name was Lilliet. She was a big beautiful bay mare. The frantic owner was calling from a Shell station on exit 98 off of interstate 65 near Nashville. Lilliet had been down and trying to roll for quite some time. She was sweating profusely with pain. A horse's eyes can be so telling and hers seemed to plead for help.
We fly into the Shell station and instantly see the trailer off to the side with a small group of folks standing there. Horsedoc gets out and takes a quick look, tries to get her up and runs to the truck to get pain killers. He gives her the shot iv and he gets her up. She seems to get some instant relief. He starts examing her and questions the owners about her hay and grain, bowel movements, water intake, etc. She had been given some rich alfalfa hay when leaving Louisianna. She hadn't been getting that rich of hay and had gassed up. This can be so dangerous because a horse who rolls can cause some of their very long colon to twist which if not treated, surgically, quickly can result in death. While she had been rolling, she had caused all of the shavings in the trailer to be piled high on each side with very few in the middle. Horsedoc was so busy with Mom, that he hadn't noticed the baby who had climbed onto this huge pile of shavings and twisted his neck in an awkward position to be able to nurse Mom. No matter that we are at a busy gas station, off a busy interstate, with all sorts of bystanders watching and all sorts of strangers in the trailer working on Mom, Little Man is having a snack. Make hay when the sun shines, right? This little guy is a survivor. When we all noticed, it was a great moment to break the fear and tension of the situation.
Horsedoc got Mom stable and the owners considered taking her to his clinic. He decided that if she was insured and would be a surgical candidate that they should keep moving as long as she was stable. Lillet begins passing gas!! If you're a horsey person, you know what a blessing that is. Everyone cheers and the rich hay is sifted out of the shavings and thrown over the fence off of exit 98. There are 2 older men there who have been there all along to offer moral support, if nothing else. They are small in stature but big in heart. They are clearly worried about these two ladies. As we pack these ladies up to leave with more pain meds, the men decide to leave. The younger lady's mom grabs them both in a bear hug to thank them. She thanks us over and over again. She writes a check for the bill and gives us a credit card number just so we don't worry about the check, even though we don't ask for it.
This is the nice side of this life. A really good memory. Really kind, loving people. People who appreciate your work and sacrifice. Lilliet got really painful again and was taken in for surgery. When we last heard, she had survived the surgery and gotten up fine. If in a few years there is a derby favorite named Trip, put a few dollars on him. I think he'll be a winner.

Just Another Day at the Office......

Growing up in the seventies in rural western Kentucky, with no cable tv and only 2 channels picked up by our antenna, there was plenty of time for daydreaming. There is nothing better than a great story. I love to read. I love being surprised by an ending that is truly good. I love the creative use of words. I just love everything about a story. We've all got a story. Don't you just love hearing from someone that you haven't seen in years? It's like getting another chapter.



Back when I was a little girl, I had a big closet. In that closet, I had a desk set up and an old manual typewriter on it. I had lots and lots of purple ruled paper that I used to compose my stories on. One of my stories involved having a horse. I imagined being able to gallop across an open, rolling pasture. My horse and I would be able to communicate with each other in a way that the naitive Americans did in Hollywood. I would be able to predict which horse would win in the races at Keeneland just by looking at the field. It was all very cheesy. Getting older makes dreams more realistic. Ignorance allows you to dream without limit. Then I got a horse and I could not ride him. I could not read his thoughts. I just fed him and sat in the field and told him my stories. I think he was bored.



Fast forward 15 yrs. I met my husband to be, who is a horsevet, of all things. You might think that this would be a dream come true. In a way it was, but I was now terrified of horses. Little did I know of the future I was about to embark upon. Maybe God gave me this dream of horses all those years ago because it would be my story afterall. I don't think that God cared for Disney movies much. I don't think he consulted with Hollywood either. Sappy dreams from the last scene in some bad movie were not to be my story.



What is the story of a gal's life being married to a horsevet? There are so many stories of the adventures of this life. There are some days that are just a typical day at the office. Like children, horses make life unpredictable. Owners of horses can have such a vast array of experience and knowledge. With that said I'll give an example of one of those interesting days.



Horsedoc comes home from work looking downhearted. One case from the day isn't going the way he'd like and he's been paged and the call will probably be one that will be difficult. He had wanted to check on the horse from earlier in the day, but the page was a 10 month old horse, who had been handled little. This filly had a cut on a back leg that was cut in a barbed wire fence. It was about 5:30 pm and the sun was to set in about thiry minutes. This farm didn't have electricity. The caretaker of the horses had not handled them very much. He was a man that the owner had met riding cross country, and I am not referring to the sport that my daughter participates in, I mean literally riding his horse across the country. He had white long dirty hair and a beard. When we drove up, there was a small paddock with many, many horses running around. There were young horses, pregnant horses, older horses but mostly just way too many rarely handled horses. The young filly was running loose amongst all these horses. The caretaker, we'll refer to as Wild Man, had put a purple lotion used for disinfecting wounds, on the leg and turned her loose. Not exactly a brillant move because now her leg burns and the last time she was caught, and someone touched her leg, it burned. For thirty to forty minutes Horsedoc, Wild Man, and myself, tried to catch this scared young horse. The sun is trying to set, all shapes and sizes of horses are nervously running in all directions. It's not looking so good. We offered to leave some medication and return the next day, after she had been caught but Wild Man was having no part of that. Instead he decides to rope the filly. Horsedoc looks at me and I look at him and I ask, "Is this a good idea?" He says, " if he does actually rope her, she'll drag him into the next county." Needless to say, Wild Man wasn't quite the cowboy he imagined himself to be. By this time, dusk is the term I'd use to describe the time of day. The clock is ticking. Horsedoc, while good at his job, is getting older and the eyes just aren't the same. All of this activity doesn't have a very calming effect on the situation. Finally, by some blessing from God, the filly is caught. Wild Man said that she'd kick your teeth in, if given the opportunity and she certainly tried to live up to that reputation.

The first shot is given with rearing and circling, blowing and snorting. She starts to calm down and I'm allowed in to hold her while Horsedoc gathers some supplies, but that one eye that she's looking at me with says, "When I'm not so tired, I'm gonna come looking for you." It is determined that she will have to be knocked out completely as there are numerous cuts, drains are needed and she's not really a willing participant. I am shooed off as the second shot is given and she goes down. It's pretty dark by now. A flashlight is found. Not a fancy surgical light that lights up the world, nope, just a regular old flashlight. In my mind, I can distantly hear an announcer saying, "And, they're off!! Some how this doesn't feel so much like a smooth run, on a clear day, with the perfect footing, around the track. No, I think we're talking about a sloppy track, with high winds and horses refusing the starting gate. Perhaps some clipping occurs early on causing some traffic issues. Tools are yanked out of the vet box in a chaotic fashion, shots are drawn, all supplies thrown together and a made dash is made for the sleeping horse in the paddock with many many other horses wandering around. All the while, Horsedoc keeps muttering under his breath, "Why the hell did I say I'd do this?" "I knew I shouldn't have brought you here!" "This just a damn mess." He begins cleaning the wound and starts yelling for suture material, a sterile pack and other items. While I help enough to know where some common supplies are, I don't know where everything is. Whats more, this is a huge truck and the box is taller than I'm able to reach. I am climbing on the bumper trying to pull myself up on this box to find the right suture material while he is yelling for me to hurry and not forget to close the gate. Meanwhile, the other horses are becoming comfortable with us and are nosing in the suture pack he's using. Wild Man is holding the light, Horsedoc is trimming and suturing faster than any the old lady at a quilting bee, blood is spurting, I am shooing horses away running back and forth for supplies that I cannot reach or find and the truck is becoming a disasterous mess. Drains are placed, bandaging is done, supplies are being picked up and Horsedoc's phone falls out of his pocket into the puddle of blood. I yank it up and wipe it with a 4 X 4, not realizing that blood is still down inside the cover, because by now it is pitch black. Who cares about the phone, not me. We're finished, she's still sleeping and we lived!!! My hands are now shaking. I didn't realize it before because there was no time. But now, while trying to label her meds, I can barely write the directions. It occurs to us that maybe Wild Man can't read because he won't look at the RX label, but keeps repeating the directions back to us. We leave and head to the next after hours call. We're frazzled and bloody. There is no way to properly charge for the time and materials tied up in this call. We've got a mess to deal with in the vet box but think perhaps we helped out a horse in need and maybe that was something we should do regardless of how dangerous and odd the situation was. We've crossed the finish line, not in a winning position but without injury or incident.

The next morning, the owner calls the office to find out what he owes. He's an older gentleman. He is unable to care for his horses but used to own horses and had hoped to raise a few now with the help of Wild Man. Our secretary starts to give him the details, line item by line item, he interrupts and says just give me the bad news. When she gives him the total, he is furious, he can't believe he's being charged an after hours fee because it was only 5:30 when he called. He's gonna pay, but he's gonna bad mouth us to everyone he knows. He's firing Wild Man and he's just generally pissed off. Our work day was 14 hrs that day. Our kids didn't see us for more than 2 hrs. The phone was ruined. We were exhausted. This is how we make our living. There are so many great owners, some interesting ones and some that leave you feeling like, why did you call? It's the horses that you want to help, because they aren't responsible for their owners. Horsedoc always loved the horse first. I think he just forgot they came with owners.

Lotto Dreams

The photo of the pond would be the view from my front porch when I win the lottery. This is 140 acres that joins our far field. I called our neighbor to see if she would care if we put a gate in the fence between our two properties so that we could ride the horses over there and believe it or not she said yes. I had never checked it out before but decided to on probably the coldest day ever.

It is really cool to discover something right next door to our property all these 13 years we've lived here and never seen. I discovered pecan, walnut and hickory nut trees. There are winding streams and lush wide open spaces. It makes my heart sing. I start dreaming of how I'd clean it up and where I'd put my dream house on it. By the end of my lotto dream, I'm feeling guilty. Darn, this being catholic even screws up my dreams with guilt. I feel guilty that during these awful economic times, I am dreaming of spending massive amounts of money on things like building a really long driveway just so my house is out of sight.

So, I try to talk myself down and remind myself that I don't really need to win the lottery. If I'm this much of a mess poor, Oh my goodness what kind of a mess would I be with $$$? Instead, I'll just share a few more pictures of my new trail riding venue. Maybe you all can come ride with me there once the weather warms up a bit. I'll even pack a picnic!!

Going to the Dogs

My toes are frozen. I try to thaw them daily in a steamy hot tub. Some days require a double dip in the tub. Those figid temps travel up my legs, making them sluggishly slushy. My torso is warm but my brain has a hard time appreciating that warmth because it is consumed with the frozen temps of my feet. Every year, this same thing occurs. When the rush of Christmas is over, I start to notice just how short the days are. I become so impatient with it that I go out in search of a farmer's almanac type calendar to note just how many minutes of sunlight I gain each and every day. I am almost embarrassed to admit that I sent my son to a local funeral home in order to pick up that calendar. Today, our day is 9 hrs and 49 minutes long, two minutes more sunlight than yesterday. Todays sunset is at 5:06 pm. By the end of the month, The sun sets at 5:18pm. That's 12 minutes in 10 days. I'm so excited. Maybe I have a little too much time on my hands. In fact, I do. I have always had either time or money but not both at the same time. It has always been that on these frigid days that I have time and no money and on lazy warm sunny days I have no time. So, I'm just trying to hang in there. I've watched countless hours of CNN. I have all sorts of opinions which no one wants to hear. I've been watching my laundry pile up because my feet are too cold to walk to the laundry room. I've been watching the stock market and gotten motion sickness. I keep "wishing & hoping & praying" or however that song goes that the freeze will thaw, the economy will stop shrinking, the winter will be short, my hormones will stabilize and we will start working towards world peace! I think that I've gone to the dogs. Just ask my family.