Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Home, SAFE, Home

After $189, three weeks of waiting, 72 hours in a trailer with arthritic feet, Chevy is home.

My heart soars, my eyes well, and my soul sings that Chevy is safe.

He will never see a slaughterhouse.  He will never wear a yoke, or a harness, or ... well, probably never wear anything!

Chevy's story started in 1996.  Born to a farm in Pennsylvania to an Amish family, he was bred to work.

And work him, the Amish did.

No doubt as long as he plowed and pushed and loaded and ... they took good care of him.  But when the time came that he feet hurt, and he started becoming arthritic, they dumped him in the slaughter house.

For $189, and a village of helpers, Chevy is safe.

As he unloaded off the trailer, my heart stopped.  Memories of Susie Q last winter raced through my head.  Chevy steadied his feet, took a step, then another and soon, he was in his stall eating hay.

I hope, he is now resting.  Waiting for another day's sun to shine, another warm petting and love, waiting for some more pain medication.

I'm blessed.  Really, really blessed.

Hoping he doesn't fall, doesn't stumble and that I can get him to his stall to have pain meds.

"Almost there, Chev, we're almost there" I kept whispering to him.  Not sure who was calming who!

"Here we go, Chev.  You're safe.  You're home.  You're loved."

Bute + hay + bedding + NO trailer = happy, loving Chev!

Monday, October 14, 2013

Rescuing Things

Seems odd.  How long I've been at this.  How many people come into my life, look at me, smile and then ask, "Why are you stopping?"

To which I reply... my son is studying Mandarin, hoping to get his MBA in finance, and then law degree - from Harvard no less.

To which I reply ... my parents need my help, they are elderly and frail, and I pay for them, no less.

To which I reply ... sometimes, other people have greater needs than I do and so I wait, and I hear about school, and I mourn the loss of a dream, no less.

Then, no less, something magical happens and I start thinking about biochem, and organic, and evo bio, and physics, and then... the dream has life, no less.

The no less that I did for me?

Introducing Chevalier.

He has lumps, bumps, bruises, a bit of ringbone and tad bit of sidebone.  He has some needs that medically I understand.

He got me thinking about how bute dissolves in the kidneys but puts extra pressure on the liver.  He got me thinking about way to counteract that... and then... I was back in biochem.

My $189 saved from the kill pen, 17 year old Percheron who just needs to be loved.

I can do that.  And maybe while upon his stable manger, I can drag out the MCAT books that call me, and the Kaplan course which is paid for, and just maybe, between me saving him, and him saving me, I can go get this thing done.

Not dead. Not done.  Just need a quick kick in the pants once in awhile.