Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

I'm sitting here on this bright, sunny Sunday morning shaking my head. I've come to expect - almost anticipate - the imaginative side of life. I tend to see things as "meant to be" and "part of The Master Plan". When coincidences occur, I tend to look at them as just the pieces of The Plan unfolding in front of me. I really don't give "luck" much credit. I believe that if one is "lucky", they are prepared and open to opportunities. I believe in God. And that life here on earth has a purpose. And that our good works will bring great rewards.

Well, even I'm shaking my head this morning. I had intentions of writing a simple little story with a couple of old pictures to tie it all together, and now I'm sitting here wondering just what it is that is unfolding in front of me. I am re-struck with just how much our lives are so intertwined. Strangers are not strangers at all. This life is full, indeed, of miracles. And friends.

It all starts back in March when Kelly brought Mo and Taylor to Refuge Farms. Mo and Taylor were young - very young - adults that Kelly was working with to assist in the development of their characters. Providing positive influences in their lives. Giving them reinforcement for their good works and working to correct the not-so-good works.

Kelly reached out to Refuge Farms for a visit with the horses and I, totally confident in the abilities of these ministers in horse hair, said "See you Tuesday!". And so on Tuesday, March 23rd, the car pulled into the driveway and our ambassador, Little Man, did his usual, friendly job of greeting our guests.

We all spent some time in the driveway talking and just getting to know each other while Little Man looked up at these two children with those big, brown, adoring eyes of his. He leaned into their legs and he rolled onto his back. Love simply poured out of his little brown body. Little Man was quite the minister. He did an excellent job of putting all of us - a group of strangers - at ease with each other and in the mood for the trip into the barns.

Throughout the day, Little Man was never far from Mo and Taylor. In fact, when it was time for this group of newly found friends to depart, Little Man started to climb into the car with Taylor! Children were his very favorite humans. And these two were champions to him.

The next day, in a matter of moments, Little Man crossed over that Rainbow Bridge. In my grief, I wrote the blog to commemorate his life with us and then I emailed Kelly. I did not want Mo or Taylor to get onto the Refuge Farms website and discover that our greeter - and their new friend - had crossed. I wanted them to know how very special they had been to Little Man and how they had been instrumental in making his last day on this earth one filled with joy and love. I wanted Kelly to be the one to tell these two young hearts that their new friend had crossed.

Kelly and I emailed a bit in the following days and the size of Kelly's heart became evident to me. I appreciated her words and her kind messages. And then we had our Refuge Farms Easter Breakfast at Applebee's on April 3rd . . .

In the middle of the chaos, Kelly appeared. We hugged and we talked and I did my very best to stay composed. But then Kelly handed me a little gold box. In the box was a charm, she said. A St. Francis of Assisi charm. Kelly was giving me this charm because she believed that St. Francis was caring for Little Man until I could rejoin him again . . . So much for remaining composed.

Back home the next day in a moment of calm and privacy, I opened the box and examined the charm. It is delicate. It is small, actually, but when I open the box I find I need to move it away from me. This little charm seems to swell and fill the space around me. And I am deeply touched by the heart and compassion of Kelly.

Later that week, Kelly emailed me about business. I replied and I mentioned the charm to her and how deeply her gift had impacted me. Kelly then responded with an email and told me the story that was my intended blog for today. And in that story, Kelly mentioned her Grandfather. A special man to her. This man had horses - big horses - and yes, she would certainly send me a few pictures of her Grandfather that I could include in the blog.

So, earlier this morning, I innocently opened Kelly's envelope of photos. Old photos that have been handled and with color that is fading. I examined the pictures and began to shake my head. Grandfather's horses were big, for sure. The pictures of the horses standing in the paddock around the barn . . I pulled out my magnifier and immediately recognized those familiar roached manes and those trimmed legs and that big body conditioning . . . These were pulling horses! Kelly's Grandfather was a horse puller!

Other pictures in the packet confirmed my thoughts. Sure enough there was a picture of Grandfather with his team at a horse pulling event. This world is small, my friends. Very, very small. This man was a horse puller. His team was magnificent. The ivory decorations (called drops) were signs of pride in his horses. The team stood tall and solid. Their eyes and heads showed no concerns for their safety and I saw no sign of fear in their bodies whatsoever. This man loved his horses. And they loved him right back.

And so I will spend more time with Kelly and talk of her Grandfather with her. I will ask when and where he pulled. I will ask which league he competed in and I will ask if she knows any of the men I know about her Grandfather's age. And I will ask the name of her Grandfather. And then I will show her my books on Wisconsin horse pullers and see if this man is who I think he is. And then, bursting with pride, I will show her pictures of Jerry, The Roan Horse and Ruby and Duker. I'll tell her of my time pulling horses in competition. And maybe even bring out the picture from Glidden when Jerry and Duker set the Heavyweight record. And we'll see if this circle of life with these magnificent big horses will come right back to where it all began. Back to the world of horse pulling.

We are never far from each other. If we take the time, we will find our histories and our lives are so intermixed with each other's. We will find that we aren't really strangers. Just people who haven't taken the time to get to know one other and talk long enough to discover the ties.

And so, on this Sunday morning, I do indeed have a story to tell you. A story of Little Man. But I have a new respect for the purpose of this dog's life. Weeks after his crossing, his life has unveiled yet another tie to someone I would have called a stranger. Because of Little Man, I have found another Human with a huge, compassionate heart. All because of a little chocolate lab we called Little Man.

Huh. Maybe Kelly's Grandfather is watching right now, with Little Man leaning into his legs, as we find the time to talk and uncover our histories. Bless you, Little Man! And bless you Kelly for the St. Francis charm. It is because of your gift that I have looked at these pictures and can literally feel the circle of life engulfing me. Thank you for the comfort that the thought of the after life brings to me today.


Hi Sandy!!



Well, the dogs will be happy to hear that you liked the medal. There is a story behind it… I didn’t want to get into it at the breakfast since there was so much going on, so here goes:


When I was growing up, I had a German Shepherd named Sam. He was the best dog in the world. I lost Sam when I was 8. He had Cancer and actually went very fast. My grandfather (who raised Belgian Draft horses and totally got me hooked on horses) told me all about the Rainbow Bridge and how St. Francis is there taking care of all the animals until their person comes to get them. We made a St. Francis medal for Sam, and each dog I have ever taken in gets a St. Francis medal. The medal goes with the dogs if they ever have surgery for any reason, and when they decide to move on, they are buried with it. I also have one that hangs by the front door of my house, and one that I keep in the horses’ shed.

Anyway, on the Sunday before I brought the kids out to the farm, Paul and I acquired a female Chocolate Lab named Tyra. It was kind of a rescue . . . my brother’s wife insisted that he get rid of her, and there was really no place to go but to a shelter, so we took her in. On Wednesday after I got home from work, I told all the dogs about Little Man and cried a little. Tyra seemed to be uncomfortable with the emotions, and I saw her kind of drift away… she was new to the pack and learning our ways so I let her go.

A few minutes later she came over to me and dropped something on my foot. It was the box with her St. Francis medal in it. I have no idea how she got it down off of the computer desk, but there it was. She sat down in front of me and stared at me. My other 4 dogs (also girls) sat in a semi-circle around me and stared at me. It just honestly felt like they were telling me that this medal was for you and your charges. I guess I got their little hint!

So, the girls and I (and Paul) hope that you and the critters on THE FARM keep St. Francis close and let him take care of the ones that move on until you can see them again.

Take care, Sandy. My critters and I send hugs to you and yours! I hope to see you all again soon!!!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd, Sitting in The Circle of Life