Tuesday, February 27, 2007


A Man in My Life

As I sit here to update you on a rather large, recent change in my life, I’m not sure how to start. Perhaps it’s best to start at the beginning and our first meeting.

It was a Friday night. We were both out socializing in Eau Claire. And another couple introduced us. We greeted each other and my heart left me at his first touch. Our initial meeting ended all too soon and as I watched him walk away, I remember thinking, “Is he the one?

The weekend passed as they usually do – very busy and with so many plans of tasks to accomplish … but before I know it, it’s Sunday feeding time! All the while, however, his face stuck in my head. I found myself wondering what it would be like to have him with me…

Monday I kept busy with work. But on Tuesday, I just had to call. So, using my handy dandy computer, I located his telephone number and without pausing to think, I called.

Yes, he was there and yes I could see him. How about Friday? It was set. I would go to his house on Friday and we would see how it went and where it went from there. Friday arrived and the day was merciless in its schedule. I did find time to go to his house, however, and bring him home with me for the weekend.

A tad younger than me, this young man is 5 to 6 years old. He is a Chocolate Lab and is so attracted to human touch he literally lays on my feet or rests against my leg. His manners are decently intact and to say he is grateful is to understate the obvious.

This lovely dog was found roaming the streets with another dog. He was rescued and has completed a full medical exam. His only health issue is a heart murmur, but that is of no consequence to me. It’s his soul and his compassion that attract me.

He is calm. He is polite. He is patient. He is respectful. He is curious. And he is the new dog of Refuge Farms.

His name? Well, he came with the name of Bunker. But that name doesn’t cause his head to turn. We have tried an assortment of names and the one that seems to stick as well as cause a reaction in him is “Little Man”. Don’t know if that name will stick, either, but it’s where we are now.

So yes, there is a new man in my life. Someone new to love. Someone to accompany me as I walk to the barns. Someone who loves to ride in the truck with me as I run errands. And amazingly, someone who already barks at the horses when they cross the
fence line.

A dog with four legs. Still causes me to shake my head when I see a dog on the property with all four legs. And the horses are staring, too. I suppose they wonder what’s wrong with this dog that he has that extra leg hanging down?!

And so now you have a new reason to visit us! Come and feel the warmth from this young man as he adores you and your touch. And maybe you’ll find the name that sticks!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and The Man in Her Life

Sunday, February 25, 2007


It’s a Blizzard!!!

No, no, no…. not the ice cream kind! I mean a real, wind-blowing, drift making, traffic-stopping, event-canceling snowstorm! And this storm is the first storm that we’ve had, that I would call a blizzard, in several years! This “winter” up here in Wisconsin this year has seen 40 degrees above in January and 30 degrees below in February. It has seen brown ground – no snow! – for most of the season. And just last Friday night, it rained here at Refuge Farms! Rain complete with thunder and lightning! The earth appears to be traveling through her menopause, doesn’t she?

Now, I’m not that old – really! I consider myself still relatively young. But I can honestly say that we don’t have blizzards like we used to when I was a kid!!! I remember as a kid getting all bundled up and going out to play in the snow. It’s what we did in the afternoons. We had no Internet, no Play Stations, no cell phones, and no hand-held electronic gizmos that beep and buzz. We went outside and expended our pent up energy. We played. In the snow. Tons of snow!

At my house in the country, that could mean climbing to the top of the snow banks made by my Father and his bulldozer just to slide down on my butt. Rusty, the dog, would be right behind me barking and chasing me only to run right smack in to me when I landed at the bottom of the hill. And then we would wrestle. What fun!

Or if the snow banks weren’t high enough for me, I would use the snow banks to climb up on the roof of the chicken coop and then – bravely – jump off of the roof in to the monstrous drift that always formed on the south side of the coop. Why did this require bravery, you ask? Well, I always had this mental vision of me jumping off the roof right in to the huge drift only to fall through the snow so far that I disappeared! And no one looked for me until I didn’t show up for supper!!! And I would imagine that Rusty would bark and bark but he always barked, so no one really paid much attention to him. So, jumping off the chicken coop roof in to the drift would require, absolutely require, me to clamp my eyes shut and scream as loudly as I could as I went air bound! Only to land in the snow and then wrestle with Rusty once more. When we both were full of snow everywhere, we would swim our way off of the drift to wander off and find something else to do.

When the snow was fresh, we made snow angels. At least I did. Rusty would stand over me and wag his tail so that he dropped snow in my face. More squinting and more screaming!

Behind my Dad’s shop was a small pond and we would sometimes wander up to the pond and slip around – on purpose! I think of that pond sometimes when now today, not intentionally, I find myself slipping around on ice again. Only this time I’m not nearly so graceful and falling now hurts! But good thing I practiced this ice thing when I was a kid…or I would be on my bottom even more as an adult!

When Dad would plow snow, I would be shaking with excitement! Many times, I would ride with him ride on the bulldozer. Yup, the bulldozer – without a cab, yet! That required me to watch his feet and his hands to anticipate when he would stop. When he would be backing up. And when he would be climbing a snow bank to pile the snow even higher!!! I watched and learned how to turn, how to stop, how to raise the blade… Everything he did I watched and watched, thinking that some day I would do that.

That some day came when I was eleven years old. Duluth, Minnesota had just experienced a record-setting blizzard with snowfall, winds, and cold. And we (or my Dad) needed to move some of his equipment and plow snow. But it was so cold that the big equipment wouldn’t start. So I was needed to pull the equipment with the bulldozer while my Dad drove the equipment. Yikes!!!

I can still see my Mom standing in the dining room window watching us with her kitchen towel clenched in her hands and her arms folded over her heart! Fear was as plain as day on her face! What if I forgot how to stop??? My Dad had just shrugged and said that then Mom would see me “and the dozer just coming out the other side of the shop!” He was calm because he knew I would stop when I hit the ditch, if nothing else!

And then one other time, I needed to drive the bulldozer while we pulled his pickup. His brand new pickup! The truck had frozen up somehow. I don't remember those specifics, I just remember how Dad had looked at me and Mom said something like, "Oh no, not again!" But my Dad’s grin told me to get my outside clothes on because I was going to drive the bulldozer!!!

When the roads were good, it was customary that I would spend Saturday afternoons at Cobb School skating at the rink. I loved to ice skate. Today, when I think of it, I realize that I had very strong ankles as a kid. Would not be a pretty picture if I tried that skating thing today!

But Cobb School had a big rink with a portion of it reserved for the hockey players. We figure skaters could stay on the other side and twirl and skate backwards and just go round and round and round. We would start a whip going but Ole Charlie would wander out of the warming shack to break up the line. And only now, as I am keying this, do I realize that Charlie knew the whip was starting long before he meandered outside. The ole guy was giving us a bit of time and a chance to play whip before he broke it up. Cool. Charlie the Rink Monitor. Charlie with no teeth. But Charlie the dependable. Always there and always keeping a fire going in the big kettle stove in the middle of the shack. A hot fire to warm our feet and melt the ice off of our skates. Now that was ice skating!

I don’t remember shoveling as a kid. I’m sure I did but my memory doesn’t remember. There were just too many other things to do in the snow that were so much more fun and those fun things are the ones I have chosen to remember.

Today I have to play my Dad. I need to plug in the Allis D-17 and plow snow – without a cab! I will bundle up and I will wear my chopper mitts just like my Dad. And I will use my feet and my hands almost like I was driving the bulldozer like my Dad. And I will squint in to the wind just like my Dad. And I will hunch up my shoulders when I feel the snow making its way down the back of my neck just like my Dad. And I will make a path in the fresh snow and the drifts so cars can get in and out of the driveway.

And I will take care of my family, just like my Dad did. Only my family is The Herd. I will let some of them outside when the winds calm down and I will refill stock tanks and open doors that have been closed against this brutal wind of this blizzard. But I will do all of this because I want to and because I realize it is my job to take care of my family.

What great examples I had from my parents! How lucky I was to grow up in a home where there was love and respect and laughter and I knew I was wanted! As an adult, I now realize my good fortune and fully appreciate the blessing that was my parents.

All of this just from a blizzard – a real, honest, normal winter blizzard. Hurray! Finally! It’s winter again! I gotta go – gotta go play my Dad!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd

Saturday, February 24, 2007


Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birhtday to you!
Happy Birthday dear Webmaster Extraordinaire!
Happy Birthday to you!

You know, when the Webmaster has his birthday it's rather difficult to get a birthday banner on the homepage....

But I can sneak this blog entry out there to wish him a Happy Birthday TODAY!

He tells us it's his 39th..... hhhhhuuummmmmmmm.....

Seriously, Vincent - Have a great birthday today. And know that you are a valued member of a group who believes in you and the magic that you do called this website!

Happy Birthday!

Love to you from Sandy and The Herd

Sunday, February 18, 2007


Catching Up

Hello, there! It’s been a while since I’ve written to you. So I have many things to tell you because so much has happened since we talked last...

The record setting cold came upon us and seemed to stay forever! It was brutal, to put it mildly. On Monday, the 5th, at about 4am, the thermometer in the barn read 28 degrees below zero. And that was out of the wind! Your skin hurt at the first step outside. Foot warmers barely kept your feet from freezing with two pair of wools socks! And your hands! Dear heavens! In seconds your hands were hurting and aching with the cold!

But The Herd was sturdy. Our routines were modified to add for extra feedings and blanketing and hot beet pulp and brushings and sheltering horses in barns out of the winds…. Everything we could think of to help them withstand the cruelty of the winds and frigid temperatures.

The babies - Babee Joy, Unit, and Jeri-Ann - were amazing. They are young and strong and really didn’t miss a beat during the entire episode. Their presence was refreshing and caused me to appreciate the absolute beauty of health. As I shook my head in disbelief, I recalled that my Mom had often told me, “When you have your health, you have everything.” Once again, my Mom was right!

The worst of the weather has moved on and we actually will see moderate temps very soon. In fact, they are promising that tomorrow will bring 30 degrees – above zero! So maybe, just maybe, all of the horses will be out in the pasture without blankets! For the first time in weeks! What a relief for all of us!

Valentine’s Day has just passed. I received several cards, each one so very precious to me. And even some chocolates! Somehow, people know the way to my heart... hhmmm. But one card stood out to me... it was from “The Kids”. My kids. The horses. It said, “M O M is like another word for love and we Mom you, Mom.”

My reaction? I smiled. And I cried. Been doing a bit of that lately. I’m weary. I don’t mind telling you that I’m tired from the inside out. These past few weeks and the weather have taken their toll. But with the help of The ‘Other’ Herd, we’ve come through a bitter span of winter the likes that I haven’t seen (or felt!) in several years!

I must personally thank Kathy M., and Cathi C., and Betty G. the Human, and Tara B., and Lynn S. Their help made the difference for me and The Herd. Hugs to all of you from me and The Kids.

On another topic, our Famous Barb wrote an editorial about the crossing of Barbaros and, in her way, brought Refuge Farms to the forefront. The letter was well written, of course, and truly impressed me with its message. The article was published and has also impacted others as was evidenced by hits to our website. So thank you, FB, for utilizing your skills and expressing your heart to the benefit of Refuge Farms! And of course, your team of supporters must be mentioned – Vincent V., Tammy C., and Cathi C. But FB, you must remember that I knew you before you were famous!

This past Friday evening saw Refuge Farms exhibiting at the annual Eau Claire Humane Association “Better in Show” event. We were surrounded by dogs and cats and ferrets and snakes and guinea pigs and who knows what else! But we also found ourselves surrounded by people of like hearts and this event is medicine for us. In the middle of winter, we take time to tell our stories to people who ask and are willing to listen. It feels like therapy, in a way. I felt rejuvenated driving home…funny…. but it felt good to tell the missions out loud again. Almost like I needed to hear them again, myself!

Our Management Team grew by one since we’ve talked last, too. Cathi C. has joined us as our Marketing Manager and brings with her a wealth of experience, a kind and giving soul, and a passion for THE FARM that seems to just be a natural state for her. We welcome you, Cathi, and embrace your fresh ideas and skills. Bless you for volunteering to work so hard!

And you know that all of this chatter is dancing around the one huge fact that our Big Jim has crossed, too. On that brutally cold morning of February 5th, his gentle spirit lifted up and moved on to his new life. It was his decision and his timing and I have only gratitude and respect for his decision and his ways. Big Jim selected the time and crossed in such a manner that I had no opportunity to help him. To beg him to stay a bit longer. To try to lift him up once more. He saved a few of those last moments of his life to share with me, but he crossed all on his own and in his own way. A truly kind gesture, actually.

But I must tell you, that his leaving has broken my little heart and his huge absence has left a huge bleeding hole in my very soul. Once again, I’m cold from the inside out. And once again I know time will heal the worst of the wound. But I truly doubt that another like him will ever grace my life again. That was a one-of-a-kind animal. Perhaps the most gentle and forgiving animal I have ever known. With the crossing of Big Jim, I feel the passing of a generation.

Out of true and honest respect and out of true and honest love I tell you that I have been genuinely blessed and honored to have known Big Jim. He graced my barns for a long time and never failed to serve our missions when asked. Jimmer allowed me to care for him and I did the very best I knew how. I loved him. A foundation horse.

One of our logo horses. And a minister of mercy every single day of his life with us. Asking for very little and giving tons back. Huge in body and of spirit. Bless you, Jimmer. You were truly pure of heart and gentle of soul.

So I had much to share with you - good wishes from Valentines, happy news of being published, relief of the passing of that forever-brutal arctic front, the excitement of the ECHA show, a new Management Team member, and true grief at the crossing of Big Jim. In all of this – the extremes of the temperatures and the extremes of my heart – one thing has remained constant.

I have never once doubted that what we do here is good. I have never once doubted that the worry and the work and the loss of sleep were worth it. I have never once doubted that this mission is making a difference in the world around us. At times, the load seems heavier than normal, but there is healing found here. Healing for all of us. We are all blessed by these rejected horses who show us daily how to forgive, to love, to play, to respect, to grieve, to remain loyal, to tolerate, to accept, and to live – truly live – each day to its fullest!

With that I will close and wish all of you peace in your heart and love in your life.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd

Sunday, February 11, 2007


Here's my take on Refuge Farms...

In the day to day world as we immerse ourselves in the buzz of humanity to live the path in life we have chosen we must deal with people and situations that are likely to be stressful. We are expected to contribute and respond in politically correct ways. Those that do not respond as required are troublemakers or outcasts. We are constantly living in the parameters of "what" is acceptable. Many of our choices are based on this boundary we have established for ourselves as acceptable.

My experience at Refuge Farms is that the "Refuge" part is for the people. Sure the horses come here and are cared for, live happy lives, live the "Refuge Farms Promises". The people who visit though find an unexpected acceptance of whomever they are or happen to be at the moment. Sadness is accepted. Stressed is accepted, and anger is accepted. There are both the 4 legged and the 2 legged to listen. Talking or just feeling "in the moment" is very therapeutic. This is a place where a crippled horse is accepted as a crippled horse. He is not made to "look" good or "perform" beyond his ability. People are accepted in the same fashion. Who is to say what a crippled human is worth? Who is to say that they don't teach immeasurable truths to those who know how to listen to and observe them. We teach each other.

You can give of your talents as you choose. There is a need for all manner of contribution. The acceptance of who you are today, what you need, what you wish to give, and receive, are the important parts of Refuge Farms. It is a Refuge and Haven for all who need. In helping each other we support and help ourselves. We leave with a connectedness and strength in numbers.

Horses live in herds. There is a strength in being with like minded individuals who can work together creating stability and protection for each and for all. It is called Refuge.


Thursday, February 08, 2007


My Dear Tara...

My heart is breaking for you. I can only stand and watch you as you do your very best to deal with the loss of your Jimmer. And it feels unbelievably helpless and desperate.

I see you at work with your smile and quick hands – healing everything you possibly can touch. So young at your profession but already it is so obvious to me that your plans to become a veterinarian are a natural to you – like breathing to the rest of us. You were created to heal the animals, Tara. And I am so proud and excited as I watch you grow and learn and blossom. What a gift you are in my life and the life of Refuge Farms!

But on this day I also see your eyes. Eyes that are so sad. And neither of us able to look directly at the other because if we do, the tears will begin. And this time, we don’t hug hello or good-bye. Perhaps we both need the hug more than ever now, but while you are at work, I must respect your need to “hold it together” so I smile and chatter and also act as if it’s just another day….

But inside, my dear Tara, I know the pain and the fear and the grief and the regret. And I know of the tears that fall when no one is around. And I know how the images will come to your mind when you least expect them – the eyes, the saggy lower lip, the white chin, the scarred nose, and that glorious tail! And I also know how the smells will come to you as you busy yourself with life’s daily tasks…and you will feel his presence right there with you.

You cannot physically touch him anymore, Tara – at least not his body. But his spirit? Well, that is right there next to you! Jimmer loved you as you loved him! During his last episode of lying down, Kathy told him – ordered him – that he had to get up! You had not had a chance to say your good-byes yet! And as a dutiful, loving creature does, he got himself to his feet. And he worked through the aftermath on his own knowing that we could not afford another colic vet bill… so he struggled and succeeded. He got up one more time and stayed with us a while longer so he could spend a bit more time with you, Tara.

And then this last Sunday in the 28 below weather you came to THE FARM against my wishes to help with the morning feed. And once again, your Jimmer was there for you to feed and touch and you two could connect once again. He was healthy and hungry and needed you to get him off the hill and out of the wind, which you did. And he watched you leave the barn a content creature and grateful for your care and love of him.

And when he decided it was his time, how did he choose to leave us? He did so swiftly and quietly and without anyone of us around. He chose that style so we couldn’t and wouldn’t help him. He chose to cross. He chose the time. And he chose the place. And in his choosings, he was again a very wise creature. His body was done and his spirit needed to move on and be free again! He moved on in the quietest way he knew…

Close your eyes, Tara, and can’t you just see him? He has found Jerry and DukeDuke and he has run – yes, he has run – up to them on top of that green, grassy hill and said, “Watch! Watch me and what I can do!!” Then he lies down, rolls over and scratches his back on the earth, and then jumps up to his feet! Upon doing this the first time, he says, “Watch! Watch me and what I can do!” and he begins his antics all over again. And again. And again. Jerry is thrilled that his partner can move so well! And DukeDuke watches him in sheer delight! Can’t you just see them all and feel the joy?

And so Jimmer chose to leave us here on earth on a cold winter morning in a brief span of 2 hours between feedings and barn checks. He chose his time and place in his unending style of grace and consideration of others. But on his way forward, he paused to say “Thank you” and “I love you” to you, Tara.

Keep him with you, my young friend. He’s as close as your heart. He is inside of you and always will be…if only you will invite and allow him there.

Jimmer. A monster of a horse. The gentlest of all souls. And a most forgiving and trusting example for all of us to follow. His presence here was a gift of grace and I, for one, am eternally grateful for the gift that was Jimmer.

May the healing power of Jimmer be with you now,

Sunday, February 04, 2007


We’re glad. Really glad.

Good frozen mornin’ to you all! Big Jim here. Mom is pretty tired this morning, so thought I would take over for her and talk to you about how we’re doing here on the Frozen Tundra that we call Refuge Farms!

This artic blast came rolling over the hill about noon on Friday. And man! Did it hit us hard! The temperature hasn’t been above 10 below zero since late Friday night. And the wind!!! The wind actually hurts our eyes up here on the hill! We have to squint when we get outside! Ouch!

Friday night we began a routine here in the barns like I’ve never seen Mom do before. It seems to me that her greatest concern is taking care of us older ones…She seems worried and watches our every move... She’s like a big hawk on legs out here in the barns!

And she comes to the barns looking like a ball. You humans just aren’t made for this kind of weather, are you? We horses have hide and hair that fluffs with air for insulation and we have hard feet that don’t freeze. We are equipped for this stuff! You humans need coats and hats and gloves and boots and foot warmers – all kinds of gadgets! And you still get cold! Obviously, The Great Creator knew what He was doing when He built us the way He did!

So, every afternoon between 4 and 6 pm this “ball” comes out to the barns so we can get our dinner. My dinner as well as the dinner of Miss Bonita, Cole, Gracie, and PONY! begins with a bucket of hot beet pulp mash that she brings us from her kitchen in the house. The buckets sit in front of the wood stove to warm all day long. She covers the buckets to keep the mash as warm as possible and then scurries out to us to hang our hot meal. It feels pretty good to get something hot in our mouths and down our throats to our tummies. Mom thinks this beet pulp should feel pretty good to us. We’re glad she thinks like that. Really glad.

Then we all get hooked and fed our normal supper. While we are eating, Mom pitches hay from the round bales in to the stalls for Gracie and PONY! since they will be staying inside for the night. And she does her best to pick up the “friendly deposits” from us on the Helen Keller side of the barn since our feet and legs over here don’t do very well with uneven ground. She picks until the wheelbarrows are full and so now she’s just making a pile on the floor. Every once in a while I hear her say something about The ‘Other’ Herd and how we will all need to clean barns like crazy when this artic air moves on…But then she stops long enough to look at us and tell us all, “I will watch over and care for you….all of you. The poop will just have to wait.” We’re glad she thinks like that. Really glad.

By the way! You all call this the Helen Keller side of the barn. I prefer to call this The Royal Court Side. You see, Miss Bonita and I are the King and Queen of the place. We are royalty. And April is our Princess. So, this is the Royal Court Side of THE FARM to us…but we know what you mean when you call it the Helen Keller side. And we don’t take offense.

We are given time to eat and then since the cold of the night is coming over us, she closes the big door to the Helen Keller Side.. ahem!.. The Royal Court Side of the barn so that we are in out of the cold winds. And we do just fine overnight. You see, Mom moved a new round pile of hay in to this side of the barn and we have heated water and I have a big blanket on me.. so we do just fine. PONY! and Gracie are in the end stall with big hearty blankets on. They, too, have heated water and the hay Mom pitched for them…It’s the other side of the barn – I think you all call it the Geldings Side? – that gets to decide if they want in or out. Their door stays open.

And again, by the way, you all call that other side of the barn The Gelding Side. Have you ever happened to notice that there is only one – yup, one! – gelding on that side? That the rest of that herd just happens to be mares? And noisy, fussy, moody mares at that? We here on the Royal Court Side call that side of the barn the Wild Side! That side of the barn is noisy and rowdy and they run and buck and snort and really create quite a ruckus! The Wild Side it is!

Well, anyhow, it’s about this time during the routine that Mom disappears and heads up to The Old Barn. She says the most care is needed up there and that we need to be strong so she can take care of them. Old Man Cole needs a warm blanket and hot beep pulp with every meal. Blaise needs a warm blanket and her feet picked at least three times a day. Sweet Lady Grey needs all the tolerance Mom can find! And The Old Horse needs dry blankets, hot beet pulp, brushings, and tons of hugs at least three times a day.

Old Man Cole and Blaise spend the nights in the box stalls. Mom pitches hay in to their stalls for them and they have heated water, too. Sweet Lady Grey does her best to stay out of the wind. The Old Horse lays out in the hay out of the wind when he needs to. But he gets up for his meals and Mom is happy to see him move and she encourages and she rubs him. And yes, she hugs him…whenever he will let her! Mom thinks hugs are medicine. We’re glad she thinks like that. Really glad.

Yesterday morning while we were all eating, Mom started talking to that Alice horse again. You know, that big orange horse that sits in our barn and barely moves? The one that makes all that noise when it finally does move? Well, she prayed and that old Alice horse started to make all kinds of noise. And pretty soon we had some more of those big round hay piles in our pastures – placed so that we can eat out of the wind. Plenty of hay and water in front of us. Just like what we were all promised. Mom thinks her job is to keep her promises. We’re glad she thinks like that. Really glad.

Then when we’ve had time to eat, Mom turns us loose and we settle in for the night. The barn lights are left on because she checks on us before going to bed about 8pm. And then at midnight, or so, the routine starts again. Yup. Mom feeds us during the coldest part of the night. She tells us that it will help the night pass. I wonder who needs the night to pass the fastest? Us or her?

It’s during this middle of the night feeding that she’s muttering most all the time. Head down and muttering. I catch parts of it…don’t catch all of it…. things like “this frozen end of the country”…. Or like “must be crazy” …. Or like “why we live here…” Or again with “...must be crazy”. You’d think she was Patsy Cline or something!

Then at 8am she’s back at feeding us again. Three times a day for the duration of this artic blast, she says. Mom says we’ll keep doing it this way until it gets above zero. And then, she says, we’ll all be on a diet, too! But she says we’ll worry about that later. And we’ll worry about the piles of frozen poop later. And we’ll worry about all those other things later. Right now, she says, we need to eat and move and stay warm. We’re glad she thinks like that. Really glad.

Each of us, Mom keeps saying, needs to pray for those Humans without a warm house. And for all of the creatures without a barn for shelter or enough food. She says we need to pray for help to come from somewhere … or for fast and deep sleep... She cries sometimes, when she talks of them….

I gotta go! Here she comes! And someone is with her! Good! Every once in a while, Mom has someone with her when she comes to the barns. CityGirl or Aunt Tara or Captain Kathy or Betty the Human or someone with to help her. During these feedings Mom is done sooner and she’s smiling and not so worried looking. They help her a lot. And we’re glad they think to help her like that. Really glad. See ya!

Stay safe and stay warm, everyone!
Big Jim and The Herd of Refuge Farms

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