Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

I have this loud ringing in my head. It is a ringing sound that I hear above the sound of my footsteps on the gravel driveway as I walk to the barns. I guess it’s more the absence of noise that I’m already noticing. The absence of the squeak of the wheel on her cart. The absence of the sound of her tender front feet stepping quickly to keep up with me. The absence of her barking at the horses when they come too close to the gates.

I sit here a mess of emotions. Gratitude. Sorrow. Relief. Regret. Joy. Loneliness. Compassion. And of course, there are these tears.

How do I tell you what is in my heart? This heart that is breaking and singing all at the same time?

How very, very grateful I am for having known her for such a brief time! Grateful for the lessons of patience and acceptance that she taught me every single day. Grateful for her understanding on those mornings when I was late and needed to hurry. Or those nights when I was late and needed to hurry. But she understood and would wait patiently until my schedule allowed me the time to spend with her. Sunday mornings were our favorite times. We would sit in the swing in the summer or by the fire in the winter and just relax in not having to hurry. She would usually nap on Sunday mornings. Nap as I puttered around doing really nothing. Except being with her.

Sorrow in her loss. Sorrow for me, actually, not for her. Sorrow for me that she no longer accompanies me and guards me and warns me. And pesters me. And gets right behind me. And causes me to pause and wait while she moves while teaching me patience. Sorrow in her absence. The absence of those footsteps and that damn squeaky wheel.

Enormous relief that she is whole once again. Relief that her courageous and patient battle with her failing and disappearing body is over. Relief that already she is running and free!!!

Regret that I didn’t spend more time with her. Brush her more. Take her swimming a few more times. Feed her more treats. Show her my love just a bit more. Even when I was late. I guess I will always have these regrets, even though she and I were together more than most married couples I know.

Joy, pure and screaming joy, at the gift of her in my life! Joy in the faces of the children who met her and played with her and giggled at her. Joy in her willingness to accept us all. Joy at being able to see her bolt to the truck when I spelled R-I-D-E. The joy of hearing her bark when Unit tested the gates.

Loneliness purely because I miss her already. I miss talking to her. Asking her if she thought that “it” was all right? Or did I need to do “it” over? Loneliness for me but surely not for her! She is already free and whole and over that Rainbow Bridge! Finding all those she misses – DukeDuke, Halima, Jerry, RedMan, Joseph, Hannah, Slim. And yes, she has already found Lassie. Her predecessor who, likewise, was void of her left hind leg. Lassie who left a huge gaping hole that she eagerly and respectfully filled by her constant, steadfast loyalty to me.

And compassion from her and those around her. That feeling of acceptance at all times. No judgment. No grudges. No pouting. Just always there and ready. Always ready to find a stick (or a rock if no stick was to be found). Always ready to go for a ride. Always ready to go to the barns. And always ready to just be there to support me.


Lady-the-Dog. My companion and my friend. My guard in the barns and my partner. The dog who rode endless miles with me in the old pickup. Who went to the cabin with me. And who got lost with me in the woods as we looked for the perfect tree for Donna. Who never turned her head from me when I was late or early because of work. Who always loved me and forgave me even before I had sinned.


Lady-the-Dog who came to me as a rehab project. “Definitely, this dog is not going to stay!”, I told my friends. But who patiently worked passed my fears and soon became something I couldn’t imagine my life without. Lady-the-Dog who was here before Refuge Farms. Lady-the-Dog who came to me not wanting me. Wanting her old owner. But who soon came to love me and accept me in his place.


Lady-the-Dog who showed children that her cart was no different than their wheelchair. Who went to Camp Quest and ministered right with the horses. Who was just a part of it all. She asked nothing special. Just to be accepted.

Lady-the-Dog who now, already, is back to playing “You Can’t Cross the Line” with Jerry, the Roan Horse. I would stand and smile as I watched the two of them challenge each other for who owned the fence line. Jerry would stick his nose under the board fence and Lady would chase him back. And Jerry would stick his nose under the board fence and Lady would chase him back. Jerry would look through his mane at me and say, “Look! I can make Lady bark!” and stick his nose under the board fence. Finally, I would assure Lady that it was okay and she would come with me. But not until she had barked one more warning bark at that Jerry!

These two challenged each other just about every morning on our way down to the barns. Jerry would stand by the driveway waiting for Lady to appear and then the game would start. Can’t you just hear it already?

I need to write the story of Lady-the-Dog now. We need to record her presence here with the story of how she came to be and how she taught us all. How she loved us and accepted us. And truly was grateful to cross. How such a little creature in the midst of such large creatures had such a deep and lasting impact. How it was really all a part of the plan, now wasn't it, that she came here for rehab. But really, who rehab’d who???


Lady-the-Dog. The absence of your noise is what I now, already, miss the most. Thank you, little girl, for your loyalty and trust to the very end. For that sigh from you that told me, “Thank you, mama. I am ready. And now you are ready, too. See you soon.”


Lady-the-Dog

L=Love of Life
A=Adoration of Sandy and The HERD
D=Determination to live life well every day
Y=Youthful Exuberance

T=Trusting that all will be well
H=Heart of Gold
E=Enjoying rides in Her truck

D=Dilligence in her Farm Duties
O=One of the Best
G=Graceful to the End

            written by Barb Gramenz