Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

"Red Tails"

2012-01-24T21:06:00.023-06:00

Robyn is a volunteer at Refuge Farms and has been for several years now. If Robyn were a horse (and I mean that with all the respect in the world), I would tell you that Robyn is "true". Like Jerry, the Roan Horse. And Handsome. And even Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare. For a horse to be "true", it must be - above all else - loyal. Loyalty is a character trait that I hold dear and expect of those - horse and human - that I trust. Without loyalty, there is no trust. Pretty simple in my limited little mind.

Well, I trust Robyn. And yes, Robyn is "true". I find that her ability to read between the lines of my bulletin board postings is almost frightening. She sees right through my attempts at humor and sees the struggle. She recognizes the strain. the worry, and the ache. And she loves the animals. All of them. Beginning with Keller (who completely and wholly stole her heart!) and continuing through to the current Herd members.

And in the center of a storm, Robyn remains calm and is someone that I certainly want in my foxhole! I have worked with her in the absolute panic when every one of the horses escaped out of the pastures and into the yard. Running out onto Highway 29! Into traffic! And me, with a leg that could not support my weight! Robyn hung in there and was critical to the safe and swift return of the horses to their pastures.

Before Refuge Farms knew Robyn, she was a volunteer in other worthy organizations. Just last Friday, a movie opened in theatres across the country. It is a war movie but tells of a different type of war. The human battle for the right to just "be". It is the battle of a special group of black military men, specifically the pilots who came to be known as the Tuskegee Airmen."

How does this relate to Robyn? Read on. Get to know Robyn and her passion for the right of all creatures to live. To be. Come to know her and appreciate her as I do. A volunteer who is true, as a way of living every day.

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

"Red Tails"

I’ve been writing for the Commemorative Air Force’s (CAF) Red Tail Squadron since 2006 when it was still called the Red Tail Project. I initially volunteered to write for them because they had this cool red-tailed P-51C Mustang fighter and I have always loved airplanes.

This is a picture of the CAF Red Tail Squadron’s restored Mustang in flight! The photo is provided courtesy of Max Haynes.

I have happy memories of going to air shows with my Father, a World War II B-26 bomber pilot who flew out of England and France. If there were any Mustangs on the tarmac as we wandered the air show, he’d walk up and just quietly touch each one. This was his way of remembering the brave Mustang pilots who protected his bomber and countless others as they lumbered across the skies to and from targets in Germany and other countries. The bombers had to fly in formation and were pretty much sitting ducks for the enemy’s fighters whose only goal was to shoot them down before they could drop their payload. The quick little Mustangs would engage the enemy in order to keep them away from the bombers and many American pilots gave their lives in the effort.

As I got more familiar with the Squadron’s educational mission, I soon came to realize that as great as their Mustang was, it was really only a tool to attract attention to the real story - that of the Tuskegee Airmen, America’s first black military pilots. Their determination and courage in the face of overwhelming odds helped change the course of American history.

We have no control over our skin color. Imagine being a young college-educated black man from a northern-tier city like Minneapolis who, in 1942, has finally been given the opportunity he’s longed for – to train to become a U.S. Army Air Corps pilot. He knows he’s lucky to have been selected for the new program. He also knows he has a lot to prove because black men have never been offered the chance to become military pilots before.

He’s faced some racial bias his whole life because he’s black, but nothing has prepared him for what he sees when he alights from the train in Tuskegee, Alabama, his new home for at least the next nine months.

There are “Whites Only” signs on doors of restrooms, hotels, and restaurants as well as buses and drinking fountains. When he gets to the base, it’s not any better because, for a while, a commandant actually enforced those rules on the base. (Eventually a new commandant saw how demoralizing that system was and banned it.)

He and the rest of his class are exposed to the local “Jim Crow” laws the whole time they’re at Tuskegee. To avoid trouble with the locals who always seemed to be looking for a fight, they stay on base. They apply themselves to the task at hand because they have to succeed.

The Army brass has designed the Tuskegee program to be extra difficult because many of them want it to fail. In fact, the first class started with 13 cadets and only five graduated, including Benjamin O. Davis who would go on to command the 332nd Fighter Group, which was made up of Tuskegee-trained pilots. He also would become the U.S. Air Force’s first black general. In all, from 1942 to 1944, 996 young black men received their wings at Tuskegee.

Here is a photo of Benjamin Davis as he prepares to take off in an advanced trainer while training at Tuskegee in January, 1942.

When the pilots and their support crews were finally deployed, the first all-black Fighter Squadron – the 99th - went to North Africa where its pilots were underutilized. In 1943, all Tuskegee-trained pilots and crews reunited in Italy and became part of the 332nd Fighter Group. The Army’s segregationist policies were still in place in the field and there was no penalty against white pilots and other officers who did not return the Airmen’s salutes – or worse. The Airmen were also barred from the officer’s clubs.

Despite all of the obstacles in their way, the Airmen continued on their quest to be the best at what they did and their reputation as superior escort pilots quickly grew. They painted the tails of their Mustang fighters red so that the white pilots who would not salute them on the ground would know who was protecting them in the air.

Soon those same pilots were requesting the “red tail angels” because of the Airmen’s skills as pilots and courage as warriors. In all, during World War II, the Tuskegee Airmen flew more than 15,000 combat sorties and were awarded hundreds of citations and metals.

You could say that the Tuskegee Airmen fought two wars – one against the enemy in the air and one on the ground against the segregationist policies of the country they swore to protect. Their performance as black aviators and skilled crew members during World War II was key to the complete desegregation of the entire U.S. armed forces in 1948.

On Friday, January 20, a new movie by George Lucas was released across the country. Called “Red Tails,” it’s the story of the Tuskegee Airmen told in big screen mode. Over the past few months, many members of the Squadron have had the opportunity to meet many of the stars, its director, a producer, and George Lucas. Mr. Lucas basically bankrolled the movie because he believes so strongly in the story.

Photo: “Red Tails” star Cuba Gooding, Jr. sits in the Squadron’s Mustang at an air show this fall.

The people of the CAF Red Tail Squadron are excited that the story they’ve been telling with the red-tailed Mustang named “Tuskegee Airmen” since 2001 is now on theater screens. They’re even more excited to know that when the movie fades into DVD sales, the Squadron team will still be touring air shows with the Mustang and the new RISE ABOVE Traveling Exhibit, continuing to tell the Tuskegee Airmen’s uplifting story of hope and determination.

For more information about the Squadron and the Tuskegee Airmen, I encourage you to check out these sites:

www.redtail.org

http://www.tuskegee.edu/Search.aspx?sterm=Tuskegee+Airmen

Sincerely,

Robyn

Your Christmas Gifts to Liz-Beth

2012-01-15T12:26:00.005-06:00

On the morning of Christmas Day, I wrote to you and talked about the life of Liz-Beth, an elderly work horse with a need for special cares during the cold months of Winter here in Wisconsin. Many of your read that blog. In fact, I've printed a copy of the story and taped it to the stall door of Liz-Beth's living quarters at the University of Minnesota.

Your responses have paved the way for Refuge Farms to support his mare for the months of December, 2011 through March, 2012. I'm not sure yet where the remaining funds will come from but I guess that's were the faith comes in. We'll find a way or we'll sell some cheesecakes but we will find a way to keep our promises to this little mare who is so deserving of our care.

Below is a copy of the bulletin board where I have recognized those who have committed to a sponsorship for Liz-Beth. Bless you, everyone! May your goodness and love for this mare be rewarded to you in high fashion! I know for a fact that Liz-Beth is grateful and doing so very well in her warm surroundings.

I look forward to bringing her home in the muddy season. But until then, I rest so well knowing she is warm and cared for and at ease. Thank you. Thank you so very much for responding to the plea for help with Liz-Beth's cares.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and a warm and happy Liz-Beth!

Linda and Jim J. of Eau Claire, WI will support Liz-Beth for $30 per month for four months. Thank you! These are the very same people who sponsor her monthly injection costs, as well!

Nancy S. or Roseville, MN wrote me early this morning and said, "Sandy, as always, you write and my heart is touched. I would like to commit $30 for 4 months for Liz-Beth!" And Nancy also visits Liz-Beth to brush her and sing to her, making Liz-Beth the special one in the barn. Thank you, Nancy!

Karen H. of Eau Claire, WI wrote: "Christmas is the season for kindling the fire of hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart." Washington Irving. How serendipitous for me to quote here on your e-mail as this is from Garrison Kieler's daily poetry page which I opened just after I read your e-mail. Thank you Sandy, for this amazing story, a special gift on this Christmas day, and thank you Liz-Beth, who through her strong and beautiful spirit, evokes "the genial flame of charity in the heart. Please count me in for a supporter." Thank you, Karen, oh lover of all animals!

Tom and Julie A. of Ellsworth, WI wrote and said: "Tom & I will help sponsor 1/30 of Liz-Beth for the four months she needs to stay at the U of M. Merry Christmas Liz-Beth!" You two are so kind and supportive. Thank you, both!

Chris A. of Baytown Township, MN says, "Count me in for Liz-Beth. Keep me posted on her progress." Thank you, Chris, for continuing to be there for Refuge Farms and its horses!

Dear Harriet H. of Elmwood, WI emailed, "Merry Christmas to you and the herd! I will donate thirty dollars for four months for Liz-Beth." You may remember Harriet as the one who raised her hand quickly and strongly when we needed to rehome the Paso Fino (whom she adores, by the way!). Many thanks, Harriet!

And our very own Other Herd Member, Robyn F. of FLORIDA said, "I'll support Liz Beth for $30 per month for four months. I'm saving money on my utilities, etc. by being here in Florida so I'm happy to have Liz-Beth benefit fromthe budget change. Merry Christmas!" Thank you, Robyn! And continued happiness to you in your new home.

"Count me in to sponsor LIz-Beth. Merry Christmas, Sandy, and thanks for all that you do!" was the message from Carolyn S. of St. Paul, MN. Thank you, Carolyn, for the kind words and the life support for Liz-Beth! She's close to you now . . . drop on over and groom her, walk her, get your 'horse fix' with her! Enjoy her!

"I can swing $30.00 a month to keep her safe and well, an honor for such a grand Liz-Beth. Merry Christmas Lynn O." Thanks, Lynn. And yes, she is a grand one, isn't she? Lynn O. of Altoona, WI.

Colleen B. of Eau Claire, WI writes, "Oh, I was hoping you would put out a “call” just like this … count me in too!" Thank you, Colleen. Your heart is so generous and giving!

In her no nonsense-kind-of-way, Bridget M. of River Falls, WI lends her support of life to Liz-Beth by saying, "Sign me up....". Thanks, B. Very much.

Karen H. of Eau Claire, WI has the biggest, most generous heart beating in her chest! She saw that we were about 30% of the way to sponsoring Liz-Beth's needs for this winter and so she took action. Karen signed up for a second sponsorship! Thank you, Karen! May your goodness be returned to you ten-fold!

In this past year, I have called some "Sister in Rescue" and I have found out my hopes were misplaced. But Jeani B. of New Richmond, WI has never, ever let me down. She is truly a woman with the animals in her heart and I am proud to call her my Sister in Rescue. Jeani says, "Count me in for the monthly donations to support Liz-Beth!". Thank you, Jeani. From me, from Liz-Beth, and from your barn full of living, happy creatures.

The Christmas Gift of Life

2011-12-25T06:04:00.023-06:00

She came to us in June of 2004. Frightened beyond belief. Her lower lift flapping in the stress of trying to stay contained - "hold it together" - when her fears were growing to the point that she didn't know if she could manage. The fear of touch. The fear of pain. The fear of work. The fear of abuse. The fear of just being alive. I don't think this mare was afraid of death - just the pain that would undoubtedly come with dying.

Her body showed the reason for those fears. Scars on her legs. Scars on her face. Scars in her mouth. And her eyes were wide and darting. All in horrendous fear. She found herself in a new barn with humans around her. And these humans wanted to touch her! The very touch that created the fear that often overtook her and sent her running out of the barn.

Our time with Liz-Beth, as we call her now, has been a time of patience and understanding. We've learned to touch her only when needed. To talk to her whenever we are within five feet of her. To always, always be gentle with her and to allow her to "take us for a walk" when she just needs to escape the closeness of the human standing next to her.

Eventually, she has learned that she is probably safe her. I say "probably" because Liz-Beth is still always on the watch. Always waiting for the angry human to reappear and create the pains in her body once again. Even though I tell her over and over again, Liz-Beth has been abused severely enough that only time will give her the freedom to trust again. I pray there will be enough time for her.

Liz-Beth came to us as Miss Bette. A strong but compact work horse with a hind leg wounded from becoming entrapped in a cultivator. No healing soakings were administered. It appears as if the wound had not even been cleaned. Asked to continue working in the fields, the leg eventually could not sustain the stress of pulling the equipment and so she was sold to the local kill buyer. We found her in northern Wisconsin on a tip from a kill buyer. "Something in this horse", he said, "but she's got a bad leg. Really bad leg."

From the very moment I first approached her, Miss Bette's lower lip began flapping. The loud, rhythmic noise of her entire lower lip flapping up against her jaw. I knew she didn't want to flap her lip. It just happened. And she was too worried to pay any attention. She was obviously feeling she had to watch out and try to save her life when "the humans" came near her.

It has taken years of patience and love. Understanding and time. Food and care. Gentle brushing and consistency. Years of never being short tempered with her. Understanding her reactions are still from her fears. Giving her time to heal - inside and out!

Today, Liz-Beth stands quietly while we brush her. No lower lip flapping. She enjoys the feel of the brush and stands to absorb the gentle touch. Amazing. After years.

Today, Liz-Beth enjoys our walks and no, she doesn't drag me anymore. She walks beside me - not running to stay ahead of me as if still in the harness. After years.

Today, Liz-Beth eats treats from our hands. A hand close to her face, at that. This, in itself, shows me just how far she has come. After years.

We will continue to work on her trust and confidence. But her body . . . well, her body needs special supports in the Wisconsin cold winter weather. And so, I write this blog on Christmas morning. As I return from the barns thinking of that first feeder filled with clean straw. We all know the story of that baby born in a small barn. With the animals. For someone who loves animals, it seems a fitting place for a future leader to be born.

In the plow as a member of a team, I'm sure Liz-Beth was smaller than her partner. I'm sure the other horse was taller and had longer legs than she did. Legs that could step out ahead of her and shift all of the load to her withers to manage. The weight of pulling the discs and turning the earth would fall totally on her if her partner got ahead of her in the harness.

And so, I'm sure, this little mare dug into the earth and worked hard to keep herself ahead of her partner. And in doing so, her chest and front legs were worn out. Completely and totally worn out. And now, that she is older, the arthritis has become prominent in her right front leg. Understandable. After all those years.

The dampness of the fall and the coldness of the air causes the joint to swell and become very painful for her. Painful to the point that she does not walk to the hay. And comes into the barn to eat her feed only when I retrieve her. And the pain of walking is too great for me to ask it of her. So, we must find an alternative. Or put her down.

And here's where our Missions decide for us what it is that we do. We support this little mare that has worked so very hard all of her life. We support her because we told her we would. We find a way to provide for her because we told her we would. We told her she would be safe, be fed, and be cared for. And so, we will do as we have told her. We will not let Liz-Beth down. For once in her life, the humans will do what it takes to protect and care for her.

Liz-Beth was moved to the University of Minnesota for boarding in early December. After 48 hours in twenty degree weather, Liz-Beth was not eating or moving. Her right front leg was too sore to ask her to move. It was time to get her into a facility that was forty degrees or more for the winter or end her life. And Liz-Beth shows me no indication that she is ready to die. No, this little mare has found enjoyment in life. In feed. In the humans that surround her. No, Liz-Beth wants to live!

I chose the University of Minnesota for several reasons. One is that, should Liz-Beth lie down in her stall, the U of M is equipped with the mechanical systems and technical expertise to safely get her up on her feet again. You just don't lift a 1,500 pound animal up by a rope around her neck. Not if you want her to survive.

Another reason is the level of care at the U of M. These people love this mare and they dote on her. They brush her. They feed her treats. And they "adopt" her into their lives with not only their systems but their hearts. Liz-Beth's lip doesn't flap when they come around. She knows they care for her and mean her no harm.

Liz-Beth is on daily meds for anti-inflammatory and weekly injections for her joints. The technicians and vet students at the U of M all work under the direction of Liz-Beth's doctor, Dr. Anne Nicholson. And I trust Dr. Anne. Completely and wholly. So I don't think Liz-Beth could be in better hands even if she were here at THE FARM. And that, my friends, is quite a statement of admission.

But the primary reason I chose the U of M for Liz-Beth is because Liz-Beth chose the U of M. On the day of her arrival, there was no lip flapping. She began eating the hay upon arrival in her stall. She settled in without stress and worry. She knew that this was home for the winter and that she would be safe and loved and cared for in this place. The main reason I chose the U of M for Liz-Beth is because she will accept the stay without stress and worry and the loss of weight to her fragile system.

For Christmas, I will visit Liz-Beth and brush her, sing to her, and tell her that there are presents under the tree for her. People who love her and want to help her stay alive. People who are willing to sponsor her for a day of life at the University of Minnesota. People who are willing to commit for $30 for four months. If thirty people commit to $30 a month for four months, Liz-Beth will live! Warm and safe this winter. Without severe pain. Doted upon and spoiled. As she should be. Thanks to you and your support in saving her life.

The time period that effects her legs the most is December through March. By April, the earth is warming and the air is changing. Liz-Beth will return home to her Big Lanna and once again join the routines in our barns. She will return to her place as the leader of her herd in the Helen Keller pasture and she will have managed to be here again in a springtime. To eat the fresh, green grasses of spring and to feel the warmth of the sun on her withers. As it should be, Liz-Beth will be with us for another year of love and brushing and feed.

After all these years, we have come to love this mare and she loves us. The horse who, upon arrival, wasn't nice and wasn't loving and was difficult to care for. But now? I can't help but hug her. And she takes it! Without a single flap!

Merry Christmas to all of you. May the gift of the season engulf you and stay in you all year long. And may you find the hope of that original barn every single day.

If you are one of those thirty people who would like to share in the gift of life to Liz-Beth, please call 715.772.3379 or email me at refugefarms@hotmail.com and I will update the bulletin board of sponsors for our dear Liz-Beth. The gift of life costs thirty people $30 for four months. I pray there are thirty of you who love her as she needs. And we may give to this little work horse the gift she has so desperately earned - the gift of life.

Sandy and The Herd and, of course, our Liz-Beth

Merry Christmas, Little Gracie!

2011-12-11T11:01:00.027-06:00

As this Christmas season accelerates into high speed all around me, I find myself looking for real, tangible examples of the original purpose to the season. We all know the story of being born in a manger with cattle and sheep and camels and mules nearby. So, I guess it comes as no surprise that I find myself in the barns more and more each day this December. Looking for the scene that tells me, "Here. Here is Christmas. Right here."

This morning I sat and read the emails and looked at the pictures of Gracie. You see, I can't go to the barn to see Gracie. I need to look at pictures, sent to me from Gracie's Auntie Trish. Gracie is getting older and the cold weather shuts her down. Last winter, before you could blink, that little wonder of a horse lost over sixty pounds and had no interest in food. She was cold. And no number of blankets could warm her up. Nothing I could make for her would entice her to eat. She just needed to be warm.

Once we relocated her and enough time passed to get her warm again all the way through, her appetite resumed and gradually she restored her lost weight. She blossomed and showed us that had been fine. Just cold. It was no surprise, then, that even as early as last Spring, I was searching and searching for a warm home for Gracie this winter.

Now everyone loves Gracie, and I mean that sincerely. I have never, ever met a human who has met Gracie that didn't fall in love with her. Adore her. Smile when they looked at her. But to take on the cares of an elderly little horse, that is blind, is a big responsibility. Especially when the Mother of that horse is as particular and outspoken as Gracie's Mother happens to be!

But Trish I knew. I came to know her in a hole of mud with a horse mannequin as we wrestled with straps and clamps and knots and mud. Oh, the mud . . . And I soon found that this woman was genuine and for real. And I liked what I saw. Our relationship grew and it was centered around our mutual love for the horse. Trish is a private rescuer and her Jake and Willy are living testaments to her cares and understanding of the horse. In a short time, I grew to trust Trish. And that, my friends, doesn't happen easily or frequently.

So when Trish offered to bring Gracie to the facility where Jake and Willy live, I listened intently. And I registered it in the back of my mind. It would mean that Gracie would be four hours away. That Gracie would have to leave these barns for a good five months and that her daily cares and health monitoring would be in the hands of others. I would need to trust Trish with Little Gracie.

It was the day after The Fall Gala & Auction that Trish loaded Gracie into her trailer and transported her to Dale and Shelby's barn. A beautiful facility with a heated stall for Little Gracie. And a young daughter, Ainsley, who would be put "in charge" of insuring Gracie was brushed and loved on a daily basis. Trish's partner in her horse ownership, Jerry, would be checking on Gracie during the day. And, of course, Trish would be with Gracie whenever she was in the barn for her Willy and Jake.

The barn here at Refuge Farms is quiet without that little horse. I find myself waking and wondering about temperatures and wind and then I remember that Gracie is in a heated stall with fresh bedding. And I say a prayer of thanks.

I say "thank you" for the day I met this woman, Trish, in that hot, humid, muddy hole. And I say "thank you" for Jerry and Ainsley and for the facility owners, Dale and Shelby. And I say a special "thank you" for Trish's Mother, Louise, who is sponsoring Gracie's expenses of feed and shavings and hay and hoof care. These people extended their love of the horse to include Little Gracie and what a gift their love has been!

My attempts to tell you how Gracie is settling in would be weak, at best. So I am going to pass on some of the emails and pictures I have received from Trish. You'll see for yourself how genuine Trish and this community of people are. You'll see the love they have for this little blind pony. And you'll see that Gracie is, indeed, safe. Becoming spoiled rotten, but she is safe! And warm.

Merry Christmas, Little Gracie. Your present this year is Auntie Trish and her Mother, Louise, who made all this possible. Enjoy your winter and your new family of people and horses. We love you, Gracie and look forward to your return. Until then, though, I rest easy. Merry Christmas, Little Gracie. Merry Christmas, little horse.

November 7, 2011

Hey Sandy,

Here are some candid shots of Gracie Girl meeting my Willy boy. Willy became extremely protective of her in a very short time. I will continue to work with Jake to see if we can get him to come around and like Gracie Girl. For now Gracie has a stall in between Max and Mocha who come in at night. She seems to favor Max over Mocha and plays kissy face through the bars with him (don't tell Willy).

My friend Jerry (who is Jake's Dad) comes out every afternoon to feed Willy and Jake some hay and he checks on Gracie to make sure she has enough of everything. I am guessing he probably gives her lots of treats and loving as well. He is known as the treat man of the farm. Since she is used to having a round bale of hay in front of her at all times I have put an entire bale of hay in her stall and will keep an entire bale in front of her at all times so she has it whenever she wants it. She is eating her hay and nibbling on her SafeChoice. She has been drinking water, but not as much as I would prefer, but she is drinking, and her poop is solid and formed and she is peeing normally.

She seems happy in her temporary winter get away home, and the joke has become this is her winter vacation home. My plan for right now is to keep her in her stall during the day unless I am there and then she will be in the indoor arena with Willy and hopefully Jake at some point. I am usually out there 3 - 4 hours so she will be in there for a good few hours a day. I am also planning on keeping her in there with Willy and I and Jake and I while we ride so she can get some exercise and fresh air and some interaction time without a stall wall between her and the other horse.

If I can get her acclimated to Jake and Jake acclimated to her she will be able to spend some of her time outside in their dry lot with them. Until then she will have some wonderful one on one loving time with Willy. I must admit I was very surprised at how gentle and caring Willy was of her. He has already claimed her as his, and I was told by Jerry when he went out tonight to check on everyone that they were calling back and forth to one another. Willy has always been a caretaker and his caretaker role really developed after Pepsi crossed over. I was hoping Jake would have taken on the care taker role, but your insight into Jake's behavior was very helpful to me.

I find myself being OVERLY PROTECTIVE of Gracie and driving home tonight I realized I need to take a deep breath and let go, because she is safe and in good hands when I am not there. She will have a dry, warm stall with buddies at night and she will have her alone time with Willy and hopefully Jake, and she will continue to miss you and her herd, but she will be happy and eventually will be back home with her original family.

Gracie is getting her first hoof trimming tomorrow with my trimmer and I. So rest assured Gracie is doing wonderfully, and I am continuing to breath deeply and learning to let go a little bit at a time and realize Gracie is tough as nails.

I reassured Gracie your Four Promises are honored at my farm as well. I will continue to send pictures for your enjoyment.

Trish

November 11, 2011

Hi Sandy,

I just wanted to share my evening with you and what happened to me for the first time in my life with Willy boy.

Willy is very much my horse and I am very much his human. He does not leave my side for anything or anyone when we are together, and this has been proven and tested on many occasions.

Well, last night Willy boy left me for Gracie Girl. I had them out in the indoor together for some fresh air and play time, and they pretty much played kissy face and groomed one another the entire time. Willy had to be reminded a few times by a high pitched squeal from Gracie that she is not a big horse and he cannot groom her as hard as he does with Jake. Willy is a quick learner and stopped grooming so hard.

I figured they had enough loving time and it was time for Willy to come and play on the ground with Mom. Well, that lasted about a whole 2 minutes. Gracie decided to wander around at her wonderfully cautious Gracie pace, and she found herself heading for the nearest wall. Willy got worried eyes and kept looking at her and looking at me. I could read his mind, Sandy: "Mom, she really needs me!"

Keep in mind I was working Willy at liberty as I often do, and have had few problems in the past with him leaving me for someone or something else. Well, he just couldn't take the site of Gracie (his girl) walking into the wall so he very abruptly left me and rescued her. He ran between her and the wall and guided her into the center of the arena, and decided he needed to stand watch over her the rest of their time outside. This ended his time with me, because how could I ask him not to take care of Gracie and give me attention?

So, for the first time in my life with Willy, he has left me. My only saving grace is he left me for a horse and not another human, and, if it had to be a horse, I am glad it was a cute one like Gracie. Needless to say my feelings were hurt a little bit, but I quickly got over it and joined them in the center of the arena and joined in the grooming session. They both got nice massages from me, and I in return got slobbered on by Willy and hugged by Gracie.

All in all it was a wonderful night. Thinking the fun was over when I returned them to their stalls; I was surprised to find Cisco (a kitten)curled up in Gracie's hay, and very much refusing to get out of her stall; so I left her in there to find her own way out. Keep in mind I found Cisco curled up in Gracie's hay the day before and Gracie had eaten around her. Gracie is curious about the cats, and seems to not mind them, and they all seem to be drawn to her stall.

Gracie was one tired girl and no doubt her feet are a little sore from her trim, so she decided to lay flat out and sleep. Well, in walking Willy out of the barn he called to Gracie and she got on her feet and greeted him at the stall door for one last kiss good night. I took one look at Willy and told him he was pathetic, and he responded with a sloppy kiss to my face (no doubt he was reassuring me he still loves me to).

Trish

November 16, 2011

Mom (Louise)is sponsoring her hoof care (feed, bedding, and hay). I am just using the monthly sponsorship Mom is giving for whatever she needs at the time. I will sponsor the rest if there is anything extra. She is doing really well.

Ainsley is the little girl in the pictures. She goes out every night and says goodnight to Gracie.

Cisco, the kitten in the picture with her, is sleeping in her stall with her now almost on a daily basis. Everyone hugs on her, too. I told Jerry not to get too attached, and he said "too late." She is part of our family here now, and it will be hard come spring when she goes back home, but we will enjoy her until that time.

Yesterday when I got there she was laying down sound asleep in her stall and where was Cisco? Curled up on top of her sound asleep herself. They are becoming two peas in a pod and are seldom apart.

There is definitely something very magical about her. Something very magical indeed.

T

November 26, 2011

Hey Sandy,

I hope the attachments come through. They are pictures of a week in the life of Gracie. She hangs out in the indoor with me, Willy, and Jake and follows Willy around when I ride him. She is also getting comfortable with her surroundings and is walking around exploring on her own a bit. On the nights I have to work late she gets to do laps up and down the barn aisle with Jerry or Nancy.

She really puts a lot of food (hay) away, and I am not sure where it is all going! She is doing well though, but misses her family and you. Ainsely, the little girl, gave Gracie a stocking for her stall. She is soooo in love with Gracie and goes out to the barn every night to say goodnight to her and kiss her nose.

There are going to be a lot of broken hearts when Gracie goes home, but they will all be happy she gets to go home and be back with her family. She is such a sweet, sweet horse.

Hope all is well.

Trish

Reading these messages, you can see for yourself how devoted and caring these people are to Gracie. And you can see, too, how Little Gracie is taking full advantage of them, isn't she!!

Refuge Farms will be sending a Christmas basket to Gracie on Monday, December 19th. If you would like to add a note of appreciation or a note to Gracie or horse treats or even some cat treats to the package, please drop your items off at THE FARM before the 19th. I will be sure to send a special note to Louise, Gracie's sponsor, and to the owners of the facility, Dale and Shelby. And, of course, a note of thanks to Auntie Trish.

And if you would like to mail something to the owners, to Ainsley, to Louise, to Trish, or to Gracie directly, just email me and I will forward you Gracie's "winter vacation home" address. Hah! Did you ever know a horse with a winter vacation home?

Merry Christmas, Little Gracie!

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

To the Friends of Refuge Farms . . . .

2011-11-02T07:09:00.004-05:00

Once a year, The Friends of Refuge Farms gather to celebrate another year of rescue. One more year of working so diligently to
save a single life. To rescue a horse. To do whatever it takes to
"make it right" for the particular horse standing in our path on that particular day.

Once a year, we gather to hug each other. To catch up with the events in our lives. To smile. And to maybe cry a bit. To celebrate those who have been saved and to honor those who have crossed. One more year of working to take a dier horse and "make a difference in somebody's life with it."

We will bring several of our Horse Ministers to The Fall Gala and we will tell a few of their stories. And yes, there will be a surprise or two for you during the evening. Something to make you clap and cheer! And something to show you exactly what it is that we do with your donations.

This life in rescue is a life of extremes. The exhilaration of watching one eating! Lying to rest its weary legs! And rising to its feet again! And the deep grief of a loss. After fighting such a valiant fight.

Rescue is a tough life. It hurts. Many times it feels like it hurts more than it should. But we gather each year, at The Fall Gala, to celebrate and to smile! To hold our friends close to us and to soak in their strength. To rejuvenate. To refill ourselves. So that we may continue on. For another year. Another year of rescue.

Thank you for your support throughout the year. I look forward to greeting you at The Gala! Come and celebrate this magnificent creature that stand before us - the horse!

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

Note: For ticket information, please visit our homepage at www.refugefarms.org and click on The Fall Gala poster. You will be taken to a program for the evening and full event information.

Tickets are $30 in advance and $35 at the door. Dress is business casual. The event is held on the arena floor at the University of Minnesota Leatherdale Equine Center on the St. Paul Campus.

Come and get a little horse hair on you! And a hug. Or two!

"Jen's Brownie Troop" at THE FARM!

2011-10-09T09:01:00.018-05:00

This summer has been a difficult one for tours. The rains of June kept many of the Vacation Bible School classes from enjoying our barns. And then the heat of July caused us to focus on maintaining the horses. Any tours in that heat were here to help clean barns and stock tanks! But this Fall, we've had some great weather and so the tour traffic has opened up again. And for that, I am grateful.

For to me, it is these tours that validate the second half of our Mission. We take in the horses that nobody wants. Yes. That, it seems, is almost a given. The Buddy's of the world. The Handsome's. The Gracie's. We take in the horses and we quietly care for them. No pictures taken. Just the time and energy and work to help them survive. The keeping of The Promises is usually done without witnesses. Most of the time, we feed, we clean, we treat, and we bury without others present.

But to have a tour here at THE FARM means we tell their stories! And we offer these horses to our guests! We invite them to fall in love with them as we have! And we share them all with those who walk down that gravel driveway to meet them. A tour can reaffirm for you that your hours of work and energy and loss of sleep is worthwhile, if you needed that affirmation. The smiles are priceless. The questions are endless. And the pictures tell of the lessons learned.

For it is our responsiblity to teach the lessons. The lessons of healing and the lessons of love. The lessons of abuse and neglect. The lessons of the will to survive. And the lesson that the body is not what we love - it is the heart that we love. Those lessons so easily taught by Liz-Beth and PONY! and Handsome and Gracie. All of our horses teach us these lessons every day. When a tour is in our barns, it is our turn to teach these guests their lessons. And we do so with pride.

October 1st saw a troop of Brownies here at THE FARM. Jen is the troop leader and she did an excellent job in preparing the girls for their visit. With long pants and boots and gloves these girls were completely ready for their up-close-and-personal-visit with the horses. On this day, it was The Helen Keller side that we opened up to them. And so now, I'll stop talking. And let Roger's pictures tell you of our time together. Let the pictures show you the lessons we are teaching . . .

And tell me, why do we do this? Because Andy challenged us to use these horses to help humans? Well, yes. Of course. But today, for those who never knew Andy and never heard that challenge, I believe these people come out and give of their days because they believe in the power of a horse.

The smell of their hide. And the warmth of their breath. The touch of their velvet noses. And the feeling of trust as they rest their heads in your arms. Tracy and Bridget and Roger believe in the power of a horse to heal you. To comfort you. To make you laugh! To allow you to rest on them for a little while. These people knew what Andy was trying to teach me. And they continue to give so that, on days like October 1st, a girl can find a horse that understands.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and This Herd of Healers

In Her Honor

2011-09-18T08:54:00.027-05:00

On Sunday, August 28th, some of the Friends and Family of Refuge Farms gathered here at THE FARM for a corn feed. It seems to be the start of a new tradition based upon an idea that was started by our Ole' Man Cole back in 2010.

Ole' Man Cole had crossed in the early months of 2010. During the winter months. He was buried close to the house and just west of the Andy Durco tree. And in the Spring, as we looked at his grave, the idea of a garden came about. Not a flower garden but a garden garden! A vegetable garden! How fitting that Cole would continue to give to us even after he had crossed over.

We grew beets and beans and radishes and onions. Even garlic. And the corn! The corn shot up high to the sky and tasseled beautifully. In a celebration of Ole' Man Cole, we decided to use his gift of this home grown corn for a corn feed. Let's all get together and eat the corn that Cole has given us!

Oops.

It seemed as the corn matured, the community of raccoons held a meeting. They discussed their plans for feasting and someone in the group mentioned the new batch of corn over at Refuge Farms. The corn was on the edge of the garden, close to the road, and away from those huge watch dogs they call "horses". "Perfect!" the club of raccoons exclaimed. "Perfect! Let's go there to feast!"

And feast they did! Those raccoons visited each and every night and noisily ate Ole' Man Cole's corn. Even the stalks were devoured. All I can say is that Cole's corn must have been delicious to warrant that kind of work and dedication by those little creatures!

So, we were in a pickle. A corn feed was planned and we had no corn. A local farmer had a corn stand, however, and so Pam W. purchased the corn for our corn feed and we held the event, as planned.

Honestly, I don't remember what else was on the table that first year. I only remember that corn. Sweet. Juicy. Tender. I ate until I could not squeeze in another kernal. And I wasn't the only one! Others ate this sweet corn and exclaimed of its flavor and taste. Hence, the new tradition was begun.

So, on Sunday, August 28th, some of the Friends and Family of Refuge Farms gathered here at THE FARM for a corn feed. It seems to be the start of a new tradition based upon an idea that was started by our Ole' Man Cole back in 2010.

I asked people to arrive at noon and planned to eat around 1pm. I had secretive plans for the day. Something special to do and I wanted to share this something special with the guests at the corn feed. So, at 12:30pm, I gathered us all around a steel "contraption" in the yard. I had spent time the prior week to "plant" this steel piece in just the right place.

The hole had been dug and the rod had been set. Cement had been mixed and poured. Good, clean dirt had been used to top off the hardened cement and then the rod was painted to simulate a tree trunk. The steel piece was anchored to allow it to settle in over the winter months and all was ready. We had a new tree.

As we gathered around this newly "planted" tree, I explained that Blaise had crossed over on December 27th, 2010. Blaise had been Andy's horse. And I clearly remember the day we loaded Blaise and Cole into Andy's trailer down in Texas. Cole, the Walker, went with Andy and gave him a handful! Head butting, pushing, the Walker even tried to bite Andy! Andy muttered something to the horse about "respecting the one who is saving your life" but Cole continued to be rude.

Blaise, on the other hand, was the perfect horse. She came with me without even a tug. When I walked, she walked. When I stopped, she stopped. When I stepped up into the trailer, she stepped up into the trailer and quietly stood beside the moving, bellering horse she had shared a stall with for all those hungry months. Andy looked at me and nodded toward Blaise, saying, "Now there's a good mare."

I attributed this little mare's behavior to gratitude and the promise of feed. But, as I soon came to learn, the demeanor of this little Paint mare was one of obedience and politeness. Blaise was a retired rodeo horse and she seemed to live only to obey the humans around her. She blossomed under Andy's care and stuck tightly to Cole for the time they lived with Andy. Quick as lightning, I often wondered just how good a rider you had to be in order to stay in the saddle on that little mare!

As we stood by this iron tree, I told stories of Blaise and acknowledged, openly, that I hadn't realized how much I loved her and how much I had depended upon her until after she had crossed. The vacancy left by this little mare in that big barn is still felt today. Blaise was reliable. Steady. Trustworthy. True. And she tolerated any and all humans that wanted to touch her. I doubt we will be so fortunate to ever care for another as reliable as Blasie.

At the conclusion of my stories, I took a blue bottle and attempted to decorate Blaise's tree with it. I wanted my bottle to point to the sky! Up the ladder I went and stood there. I could not let go of the ladder to place the bottle. Helpless and unable to pay proper tribute to Blasie, Tom came to my rescue and placed my bottle for me. Forgive me, Blaise, for not being able to overcome my fears. I had prayed that just this once, I would not be fearful of heights. Just his once! I so very much wanted to place the bottle on you, Blaise, but my human weakness prevailed. I am unlike you, Blaise. I cannot be as true to you as you were to me.

Then others picked up bottles and told stories. Stories of Blaise. Stories of their own horses. Stories that - each one - reached out and touched you.

Vern told stories of the first horse he had purchased. How he had loved her. How she had lived with them for six years and he still adored her. You could hear it in his voice. The pride of her. The respect of her. And the missing of her. Vern, an admitted non-horse person, told the story of his first horse as he hung a bottle on Blaise's tree.

Anne told how Blaise had been the first horse that she had ever brushed. In Blaise's stall with her, in fact! A rookie who wanted to learn about horses was given a brush, instructions, and put in Blaise's stall with her. And left to learn with Blaise.

Blaise was a good teacher. She tolerated the new and the experienced. She had a way of adapting to the savviness of the human who was touching her. Blaise could move like fire and spin on a dime! Or she could stand perfectly still. Whatever was needed by the human who came to her for learning.

Anne walked between Blaise and the wall that day. And then, in a little while, Anne took Blaise on a lead rope out into the yard to eat some fresh grass. Blaise took Anne by the hand and taught her the beginnings of how to be with a horse. Anne's gratitude and appreciation poured out of her as her selected bottle was placed, with love, on Blaise's tree.

Julie began telling us of her mare, Alis Aden, aka Angel. A mare that she loved completely and wholly. Her heart is still soft over the loss of her and Julie still misses that mare. And so Tom, in support, continued the story of Angel and told of the two of them. How Angel and Julie both married Tom. And how their little pug dog would hang onto the tail of the horses as they came running in from the pastures!

Julie's bottle was placed gently and tenderly. I could see her stroking the withers of Angel just once more as she placed the colored bottle on Blaise's tree. Thirty years is a long relationship. Thirty years is a long time to love another living being. Thirty years Julie and Angel spent together. Both of them were the lucky ones.

Tom told us of his mastery of horse training. His special skill, it seems, is the training of a horse to stand still while the owner mounts, slips off, and lands on the ground amid the horses feet. Tom's expertise worked well with his first horse. And his story did wonders with all of us. Reminding us of how much fun we have with our horses! How we laugh at the foolish things we try to do with them! And how tolerant and accepting these horses are of us humans. Tom's bottle was placed on Blaise's tree with smiles and appreciation.

As we adorned Blaise's tree, I looked around me. There were men who had sworn they didn't want anything to do with horses. And who now had horses "of their own". There were women who loved any and every horse. Regardless of age, shape, size, or condition. There were city people who were coming to love horses from deep, deep within themselves. And there were country people who had, perhaps, at one time taken horses for granted. They were learning a few things about themselves today as we all stood around this tree and told our stories.

There was the veterinarian who has dedicated his life to easing the burdens of the animals in his cares. And there was the rescuer who depended upon this veterinarian for guidance and wisdom. And yes, at times, for validation that what was being done was the right thing for this particular horse.

There was the businesswoman who worked so she could have her horses. And who privately rescues those that would otherwise fall between the cracks. There was the artist who really isn't an up-close-and-personal horse person but who shares her talents with us to help us save lives. And there were the professors. The learned. These people spoke of the lesson learned that day standing by Blaise's tree and hearing our stories. Life lessons. Taught by a tree of steel and decorated with colored bottles.

We ate and we talked even more. Then we shared dessert. Cakes to finish out the day.

The Beauty cake was in celebration of her 7th re-birthday.
The day before had been Beauty's anniversary of arriving at Refuge Farms. A full seven years ago. And the woman who has fallen completely and totally in love with Beauty brought a cake - and even a re-birthday card! - to celebrate that milestone for her horse.

But Anne also brought another cake. A carrot cake. Decorated with numerous little carrots on the top. The note with this cake says it all:

"In honor of Blaise who loved carrots".

A simple tradition of eating the fall harvested corn. A tradition begun with Ole' Man Cole and continued with his stall mate, Blaise. A "contraption" of steel that became a tree and was decorated with colored bottles. Supported by stories of love and admiration and respect and laughter and grief and appreciation. Stories of our horses and how they have impacted us. Changed us. Brought us together. And let us bare ourselves to each other. And in that exposure, somehow, we take comfort.

Thank you, Blaise, for once again teaching us. For once again being exactly what the humans around you needed. Your tree stands tall and it is sturdy and reliable and the wind will not break its branches. It is steady, as you are. It is true, as you are.

See you on the other side, girl. And I'll tell you once again what Andy said of you as I throw my arms around your neck. Now here's a good mare.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and Blaise's Tree

"Randy's Story Never Stops"

2011-08-28T08:03:00.029-05:00

I received an envelope in the mail from Dick and Marie R. of Richfield, MN. Their envelopes are fun for me to open. Always a poster for an upcoming breakfast or an article or a particularly special picture. Every once in a while Dick will send me a photo of himself or another Zuhrah Horse Shriner atop their mount with a note explaining the event and the date. These photos always make me smile.

This envelope was no different. The envelope was fat and contained the August 2011 issue of the "Zuhrah Arabian" of Minneapolis, Minnesota. This was a twelve-page newspaper packed full of pictures, articles, and posters of upcoming events for the Minnesota Zuhrah Shrine Clubs. Our friends at the Maple Plain Ranch were, of course, represented. And lo and behold, Dick had drawn my attention to a special picture published on page 6. Hah! I knew one of those horses!

I'm going to let the article's scribe, Don Myron, tell you the story behind this picture. In his own words, as published in the Zuhrah Shrine Units column:

"...Let me tell you about a great happening that took place at the Ranch.

The Shrine Hospital called our President Brad R. one day and asked if the Horsemen could entertain a group of children at the Ranch. After a moment of thought Brad replied absolutely. To prepare for this day Brad, at a stated meeting, asked for volunteers to give up another day of their lives to entertain some children at the Ranch from the children's hospital. Four people volunteered! That day came one day in June. All four of the volunteers were on hand to welcome the children and their three supervisors or nurses or instructors as they were called. These nine children who were our guests were born without arms or legs.

The three volunteers were Dick R., Lowell C., and Paul B. These three took these nine new guests and placed a mammoth memory in their lives. They showed them how horses are groomed and cared for on a daily basis then they showed them how horses are saddled, took them in to the riding arena and gave them all horse back rides, three different times. These nine children weighed from 30 pounds up to 45 pounds and at 45 pounds, that is equal to the weight of a western saddle. Therefore Dick, Lowell or Paul had no problem gently setting each rider safely into each saddle.

"It was heart-rending watching the care and the attention that was given to these riders. The riders had big smiles on their faces and looked as if they had just conquered a brand new world. On the trailer that hauls these horses all over the country there is a saying, that says, "We ride so they can walk."

Dick, Lowell, and Paul had reversed that saying, "They were walking so these children could ride!" It was an emotional setting. The setting and seeing these children with their smiles on their faces left a tear on your cheek.

When these children were leaving they asked if they could come back. Our answer to them (was) that they would always be welcome any time they wanted to come back.

Sharing that day with those children was the most emotional day I have spent with horses in the 55 years that I have been a Horseman! Sometimes you would never have these opportunities unless you volunteered.

At the Stables of your Rhinestone Cowboys and From the Saddle of The Colonel,
Don D. Myron"

What a great story! Using their horses to help these children enjoy the freedom of movement atop a horse. I looked closely at the photo. Dick had a note attached to the photo to help me understand the players:

"Note Don Myron is standing with his arm on Randy and Randy's tongue is out. Randy loved the kids. The story of Randy never stops. As always, Dick"

Now it was my time to be emotional. You see, Randy is a Refuge Farms rescue horse. An elderly stallion with no teeth. No longer needed for his stud services, he was only days away from being euthanized.

I really didn't know Dick or the Zuhrah's then, but through their adoption of Randy and the expert care they have given this horse, I have come to know and have great respect for these men. In fact, my name for Dick is "The Consummate Horseman". And I mean it with all sincerity.

This is a nice, warm story, isn't it? A horse no longer wanted finding its way into the rescue world of Refuge Farms at just the right time. And then that old horse opened the door between the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol and Refuge Farms. As Dick and I talked just the other day, we both commented how similar our organizations are - both using horses to help people in need. I am honored to be in such company.

But the story doesn't end here. No, not by a long shot . . . . .

Don had written his emotional impressions of that June 23rd children's visit to the Ranch and his article was published in the August 2011 issue of the Zuhrah newspaper. But Dick had included another article that had recently been published. It read:

"Myron, Don D. of Plymouth, died July 26, 2011 at age 85. Don was a graduate of the University of Iowa. His career began with Gold Bond Stamps and he later formed Don Myron Realtors. He was Past President of Caaileros del Norte, the Zuhrah Shriner's and was still active with the Zuhrah Horsemen."

Dick told me that at the service, as you drove into the driveway, in the circular lawn just before the entrance to the building was The Colonel, Don's horse. Fully decked in the Zuhrah dress uniform and with empty boots, backward, in the stirrups. The Colonel was greeted by many of Don's friends and it seems only fitting that the horse that Don loved and trusted so be present to greet the guests and pay his personal respects to his owner.

I also found out that Don was a volunteer Hennepin County Park Rider and also a member of the Volunteer Ski Patrol. There is an upcoming event where Don will be recognized by the Hennepin County Sheriff's Department for his years of service. It was fitting, too, that Dick recently rode The Colonel, Don's trusted horse, in the Zuhrah Parade Unit. Fitting because Dick and Don were lifelong friends. In fact, in Dick's eulogy of Don, he read the closing paragraph from the article his friend had written just a matter of days before he crossed over:

"Sharing that day with those children was the most emotional day I have spent with horses in the 55 years that I have been a Horseman! Sometimes you would never have these opportunities unless you volunteered."

Respect. Tradition. Honor. And a deep love of the horse. All characteristics and values that Refuge Farms holds high. And all characteristics of this group we have come to know as the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol.

Funny, isn't it? How rescuing an old stallion without any teeth opens doors for you. Doors that lead you home. Doors that lead you to true, good friends that you never knew you had.

Thank you, Don, for sharing your story. Thank you to you, The Colonel, for being true to your owner. And thank you, Dick, for passing this story and pictures on to me.

"Perhaps my time seemed all too brief
Don't lengthen it now with undue grief.

If my parting has left a void
Then fill it with remembered joy.

Be not burdened with times of sorrow
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow."

Amen, Don. Amen.

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

Andersen Windows Was Here!!! Again!!!

2011-08-07T10:04:00.042-05:00

If you recall last July, I wrote a blog about a team of four people from Andersen Windows that made an enormous difference in life here at Refuge Farms. An enormous difference made in a span of eight - yes, only 8 - hours. I was amazed at their hard working attitude. Their solid work ethic. Their concern for how I wanted the project completed. And their willingness to do whatever would help this organization. Kristi, Tassi, Jeff, and Tom were amazing. They arrived as strangers but left as friends. I was honored to have them here. And I was beyond grateful in July of 2010.

In mid-June of 2011, I received an email from Sue, the head of the Andersen Windows' "Bring It Home" program. I saw it in my mailbox and I prayed as I opened it. Could it be? Another team of four? Could I be so greedy as to wish that Andersen Windows would return again this year? It was obvious just by driving in the driveway this year that help was needed around here. Could it be?

The answer was in Sue's email. Yes, another team of four from Andersen Windows was on its way to Refuge Farms. Did I have projects for them to do? Would July 19th work in my schedule? And what kind of tools or equipment should these people bring with them?

I sat in my chair and just shook my head. The goodness of these people was a given. The generosity of Andersen Windows to pay their employees to work in the community was a pure gift to me here at Refuge Farms. Especially this year! And the list! Did I have a list? Oh, Sue! The issue was which list do I take off the refrigerator?

At 6:15am on July 19th, vehicles began pulling into the driveway. They were here, we chatted for thirty seconds, and then Keith said to me, "What is it that you want me to do?" That set the tone for the day. No talking. No standing around. No questioning "Why". Just heads down and doing "it". Whatever "it" was.

Todd brought his skid loader complete with bucket, post hole auger, and forklifts. Keith brought his strong back and smiles whenever you asked about his triplets. Lisa brought her familiar face as she had visited several years ago with another team from Andersen Windows. And Jason brought the hardest and fastest working set of hands that I have ever seen!

By 6:30am, the equipment was running, holes were being dug, posts were being pounded, and lumber was being cut. Major projects were underway and I was again in total awe and great appreciation for the work ethic of these people.

The day itself was somewhat cooperative. For the morning hours, we had overcast clouds. High humidity made everyone drip with sweat but I heard not one complaint. Except from me. They drank water, wiped the sweat from their brows, and resumed their work. By early afternoon, the sun was approaching and the gnats were becoming unbearable. But still, Lisa came to me at the completion of her second project and asked, "What else do you have to do, Sandy?"

Finally, I was out of projects and we headed for lunch. These people, you know, begin work early in the morning and so lunch for them is typically by 11:00am. But not once - not once! - did I hear anyone ask about lunch, if we were going to break for lunch, or talk of the hunger that I know they were feeling! Nope. They worked. And when we were done, then we then ate our lunch.

And at lunch we talked about our families, our hobbies, and our interests. I was amazed at the variety of lifestyles present at the table. Single and married. With and without children. Early in careers and well into careers. The Refuge Farms volunteers were able to see the fabric of these people and one of them, Tracy, wrote this to me:

"I was amazed at how hard they worked, and how selfless they were, bringing in some cases their own tools and in all cases exhibiting such stamina in the awful heat, and such good nature about the variety of tasks they tackled. Each was always looking for some other task to do, rather than resting, any time there was a pause in the project at hand. They worked straight through, and were a real tribute to the organization. I was thinking it would be a great pairing to put people like that with young people with 'attitude' to learn what is expected, what others do."

One of the stories I like to tell about the day was a point in the gate projects when I stopped to take a few pictures. Tom, our Refuge Farms Building Committee Chairman, was heading up the project and had Todd and Keith and Jason working with him at the time. I stood close enough to hear the conversation that went something like this:

Tom: "You got that?"

Keith: "Yup."

Tom: "Huh. You see that?"

Todd: "We could put a cheater . . ."

Tom: "No, let's do . . . Ya, that's what I was thinking."

While shaking my head in disbelief, I realized that these strangers were now working so well together that complete sentences were not needed. They had their own language - what is a 'cheater', by the way? - and one man could anticipate the picture in the mind of the other man. Amazing. Total strangers at 6:30am and by 8:00am in each other's heads to the point of only partial phrases were needed to communicate. Amazing.

Later in the morning, Lisa asked me where the sand was that I needed moved. I looked at her and realized she didn't have the list of projects in her hand (I had mine in my pocket, no less!). No, she knew there was sand to move and where was it? So, Lisa, Tracy, Anne, and I took the skid loader and shovels and we went to move sand.

Partway through that project, Lisa asked if I needed more sand. It seems that Andersen had bagged sand from the spring floods stored in a warehouse and perhaps we could get some donated, if Refuge Farms had a need for sand.

Did we!? The entrance to our barns is a two foot mud bog. The horses must wade through the mud to get into the barn and back out again. And in the winter, when the mud freezes, it is like walking in a mine field! The frozen earth is uneven and causes hooves to crack and we humans can barely manage to go out the doors without falling!

And so, from that simple gesture on Lisa's part, an entire second adventure with Andersen Windows began. I was put in touch with Tim who said, "Sure. We've got sand. Do you have a way to haul it?" With a call to Jim, from Bay City, WI, I sure did have a way to haul it! And with the use of Tom's forks for the skid loader, I even had a way to unload the pallets once here.

Last Monday, Jim and I made two trips to the Andersen plant in Bayport and retrieved ten pallets of sand - 30,000 pounds of it! Clean, washed sand in bags and wrapped on pallets. On the way to Andersen's, it rained so hard that Jim could barely see! On the way back to THE FARM the wind about blew us off the roads! But, while we were loading (at the skilled hands of Craig), the rain stopped and the wind calmed. And once again, we met yet another employee who proved to be kind and considerate and an excellent representative of Andersen's.

So now, as an additional benefit of July 19th, Andersen Windows Day at Refuge Farms, we will clean out the "muck" in the barn entrances and fill the craters with clean sand. When it rains, the rain will seep down through the sand and when the earth freezes, we should no longer have craters and holes to walk through. I'll be sure to post pictures of the "after" effect of this project, that's for sure!

Andersen Windows sells windows and patio doors. But they also have a way of hiring people that work hard and work well. People that genuinely do projects in the community to make a difference. I asked some of this year's crew why they volunteered to do this kind of work. Why did they sign up to go out and work in the community? The responses:

Because we know our help is needed.

Because we know things are better when we leave than when we arrived.

Because we know you can use our help.

How would I summarize the day? I think the words of Anne, one of the Refuge Farms volunteers who spent the day with us will do it just right:

"I had heard about the Andersen Window people coming to THE FARM last summer and how hard they work and how willing they are to do whatever needs to be done. You REALLY need to see these generous, wonderful people in action! And, action is the word. They worked non-stop until everything on Sandy's "TO DO" list was done! Then they would ask what else they could do!"

What was it that was completed on July 19th? Here's a list - read it and your muscles simply ache, don't they?

* The corral building was trimmed (a project outstanding for over 2 years)
* Fans in the corral building were mounted to increase air circulation
* Bucket holders were mounted on the new trim in the corral building
* Dangerous fence pieces were removed from the fencing around the Helen Keller side of the building
* T-posts were pounded to enclose the yard thereby prohibiting horses from escaping to Highway 29
* Corner brace posts were pounded into ground which covered the buried old barn - NOT an easy task!
* A full set of 5"x6" posts (total of four posts) were set and two gates perfectly hung to partition the Gelding's Pasture from the Old Barn Pasture
* A full set of 5"x6" posts (total of four posts) were set and two gates evenly hung to replace flimsy wire gates between the Gelding's Pasture and the Helen Keller pasture
* T-posts (more of them!) were pounded to connect the new gates to the existing wooden fence in the Gelding's Pasture
* Fence line was repaired to attach the old wire fence to the new gate sets in both pastures
* The heavy wooden picnic table was moved to its new location
* A sand pile was moved from the slab to the entrance of the corral where the rain made the ground like slippery goo!
* It was asked that ten or so bales of hay be brought from The Old Barn to The Big Barn. Later that night, when I went to do nightly chores, I counted over two dozen bales stacked there for me!
* Todd saw a project that wasn't on my list. He saw it and without being asked, he used his own personal equipment and he completed the project. A pile of old rotting hay was sitting in the pasture waiting to be moved to the manure pile. It seemed that whenever it was just about dry enough for me to begin moving the pile, the rains came and drenched the area again. I was in a perpetual waiting game with the weather. Todd saw the pile and moved it. Muck and all. What a gift! The ground is now smooth again and that nasty gnat breeding ground is long gone. Thanks, Todd. Very much.

How do you thank these people who come to work for a day? Who come, and in one day, make differences that you point out to your guests and say, "Aren't those gates just a thing of beauty? Do you see how straight they are? Do you know how long I have wanted to get gates there?"

Projects completed so that your volunteers say, "Now, we can connect those posts and keep our horses in the yard. Won't that be great?"

I don't honestly know how to thank them. I'll send a note with pictures. I'll tell them of PONY! and Appaloosa Mare standing in the breezes of the fans after they have eaten from their buckets in the corral building. I'll do my best to thank them but I know I will fall short.

This year, I am feeling a sense of helplessness with this knee. I see projects and know they must be done but thought I was unable to dig in as I would have in previous years. This year, Andersen Windows not only completed projects here at THE FARM, but they restored my hope. They encouraged me. They gave me a sense of "can do". I feel better inside my heart now. Major projects that were needed for the safety of the horses are done. And done well! Better than I could ever have done! Andersen's has given me my smile back. And restored my will to try!

Thank you to each of you. Thank you to Sue for thinking of us. To Todd, Keith, Jason, and Lisa for your hard work. And to Lisa who opened the door to Tim and Craig. I am personally grateful to each of you for restoring my song. And Refuge Farms? Refuge Farms is looking good again!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd - With our new gates! New fence lines! Newly trimmed corral building! And our sand!

A Guardian Angel for PONY!

2011-07-10T12:27:00.029-05:00

Every once in a while, a person comes into your life and leaves a mark on you. Now sometimes, the mark is painful. But if you are one of the lucky ones, your life will be sprinkled with the marks of people who leave smiles and peace behind them. People who made a difference in the world around them by caring. By giving of themselves. And by not really doing any of this good work for their own recognition.

This past week, Refuge Farms was blessed with the presence of such a positive life in our midst. You see, we came to know a Friend of THE FARM, Paige, a bit more this past week. Now, we've known Paige for the last three years. This young lady has been "one of us" and is seemingly growing right before our eyes.

The first year we met Paige, she was small - physically and in age. A young girl selling plants from her Mother's garden to raise money to help the horses. I was impressed by many aspects of that first visit. Not only the pleasant, shy smile of this young lady but also by the obvious and loving support of her Mother, Patricia, and her Father, Jason. They stood quietly in the back and allowed Paige to explain her mission and present her results to us.

The second year, Paige reappeared again. I was surprised, actually. Many times, projects are begun and the repetition and boredom with the work takes over. Sometimes we never see the young person again. But not Paige! Her goal was set a bit higher this year and once again, the plants were transplanted and sold for donations. This time they added a garage sale to bolster the bottom line. As Paige so politely put it, "We don't think we'll try that again!"

The third year, Paige appeared with her donation and a trunk full of blankets and de-wormer and tack. Her plant sale was publicized as a fundraiser for Refuge Farms and so a neighbor had donated some no longer wanted tack for Paige to add to her efforts. We have made good use of those winter blankets and the de-wormer was the top-dress kind - perfect for PONY! who detests anything placed in his mouth!

This year, on the July 4th holiday and during our public hours, I looked up to see someone that I knew I should recognize. The hair? Nope, didn't recognize that blonde hair. The height? Nope, this was a young lady now and she was taller than me! The eyes? Yup! I knew those eyes! Especially when she smiled and quietly said, "Hello." It was Paige! And how she had grown in the past year!

We talked of summer vacation and plans. We talked of her dedication to training and showing in English pleasure. And we talked of the horses at THE FARM. Patricia (Mother) and Jason (Father) were once again accompanying Paige and it struck me what a grand job they were doing raising this young lady. How polite and clear her conversation was with me. No unnecessary occurrences of "like" scattered into every sentence. Paige and I had an adult conversation while sitting in the barn last Monday afternoon.

It was time to go and so Paige hugged me good-bye. And then shyly handed me a Ziploc baggie. It was her proceeds from her plant sale this year. She wanted to give it to me and simply smiled and started walking - with her parents - back to their car. I looked at the bag.

My first reaction was that I was becoming dyslexic. $487? $478? What did that say? Marked on the outside of the bag in black flair pen ink was a dollar value. "Paige!" I called. "Tell me what this says, please?" Paige returned to me and quietly said, "$847". I looked at her in disbelief. $847? Really? $847?

I asked her if she had time to come with me. Could I introduce her to someone? Not really giving her a chance to say no to me, I took Paige into the corral shelter and introduced her to PONY!. Standing in front of the fan, PONY! stood with his head protected in the corner. I removed his fly mask and said this to Paige:

"This is PONY!, Paige. He is blind in both eyes and his right eye has progressed nicely and doesn't bother him. His left eye, though, is another story. Do you see how swollen it is? How it is watering? And how he is squinting? Doesn't that look like that eye hurts, Paige?"

"We've had him examined and it is recommended that we remove this eye to relieve the pain. The estimate to do that is $800. Paige, with your permission, may I use your proceeds from your plant sale to remove PONY!'s eye? Are you alright with that? May I spend your money that way, Paige?"

Paige looked me straight in the eyes. "Yes, please do," she said. "I'm more than okay with that!"

And so it was. On the next morning at 9am, I called our Dr. Anne and told her the story of Paige, of the $847 baggie, and asked if PONY!'s pain could be relieved? Dr. Anne was positive it could be done. And so it was.

That very afternoon, PONY! arrived at the U of M Equine Center and on Wednesday morning, Dr. Anne Nicholson and Dr. Megan Swaab removed that painful left eye from PONY!'s face. The surgery went perfectly. PONY! was already more calm and more at ease.

On Thursday afternoon, I met Paige, Patricia, and Jason at the U of M. We went to visit PONY! and Paige took him for a walk around the back barn. I stood and watched in amazement. The PONY! I knew would have head butted Paige all over the place! He would have been jerking his head and been very difficult to handle. But this PONY! Well, this horse was calm and even interested in the smells of the horses around him. What a difference the removal of that eye had made in this horse's disposition.

I hugged Paige as we parted. And lamely told her how grateful I was and how content and at ease PONY! seemed. My words fell woefully short of what my heart was screaming. You see, in my eyes, Paige is PONY!'s Guardian Angel. When PONY! needed help the most, Paige appeared and, with her hard works and determination, became the solution for that horse. She made it possible to improve the quality of that horse's life by transplanting plants in April to sell in June. Plants to sell to anyone who would listen. Just how many plants did that young lady have to transplant and sell to create a gift of $847? Just enough to make PONY! one happy, happy horse.

Paige - I've asked a few of the people who have met you to tell me what they think of this good work that you have done. Pam W. is one of our volunteers here at THE FARM and she was among the group when we announced your gift and our plans on July 4th. Pam says:

"Paige is a remarkable young lady. Her parents have done a marvelous job of raising her and instilling in her a wonderful, giving and caring knowledge that will take her far in life. It is something that is not often found in young people her age or even older. I guess I would have to even include adults in this feeling. I believe that this young woman will go far in life and will make a difference in what ever she decides to do when she grows up."

And then Tracy O. is also one of the volunteers present at THE FARM on July 4th. Tracy was the one crying right with me as I announced your gift. Tracy says:

"Paige is an incredibly impressive young lady in so many ways. She is so quiet and unassuming, yet year after year her hard work brings in even more results for THE FARM. That she continues to help others in such significant ways without external rewards says a great deal about her depth of character. I hope she can get publicity . . . so others can see the difference one person can make."

And then Dr. Anne of the U of M Equine Center said to me, as I told her the story of you, your project, and the hope to help PONY!, "I'm getting goose bumps listening to this!" Dr. Anne also wrote:

"I would like to add my thoughts on Paige:

I am overjoyed that there are still mature young people in this world. It seems more often, I am exposed to spoiled, selfish kids who take everything for granted and only think about themselves, all while trying to get the privileges of adults without any of the responsibility. Paige is so different from that. She worked very hard and set goals that benefited animals in need versus her own wants. It is a refreshing honor to get to meet a young lady with such genuine selfless maturity. Thank you Paige, for having such honest and wholesome priorities; people like you make this world a better place."

So there you have it. The true, real story of a young lady who set a goal. Who worked to prepare for her goal and then who set about achieving that goal. And with her hard work, this young lady has vastly improved the life of an animal in need. Paige made a difference in the life of a living creature from the giving of the goodness of her heart.

Thank you, Paige. Bless you - and your parents - for the goodness that you do. PONY! will lean his head on your shoulder when you see him next. Heck, he may even lick you a bit!

We all are the ones with the goose bumps now.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and a very, very happy PONY!

And Then There Was Sophie . . .

2011-06-12T08:27:00.022-05:00

If you remember, when Dudely returned to THE FARM he brought with him his pasture mate, Sophie. This Clyde mare had been rescued by Refuge Farms from the eastern side of Wisconsin along with The Buckskin and The Morgan. ClydeMare, as I had called her, had thrived with Dudely and in Wanda's cares. She had been delivered to Wanda very, very thin and her coat was filthy. She was difficult to handle and bossy. Everything you would expect from a big mare that had been starved and not cared for.

Upon returning to THE FARM, Dudely made it clear that the Old Barn he would not share. Nor would he share the round bale in the old barn. So ClydeMare was stuck out in the elements and if you recall, this spring was laden with cold rains, snow, and wind. It wasn't long before we moved her into the corral with a shelter and a round bale of hay of her own.

Sophie, as Wanda had called her, did not thrive here. Too many people. All alone in the corral. Too many horses around her. She dropped weight and became agitated. Her best home was a two horse setting in a quiet neighborhood. And so, I began the search for such a home for Sophie.

And then along came Deb. A gentle woman. Intelligent. Very intuitive. And extremely sensitive to the needs of her horses. Deb was looking for a pasture mate for her elderly gelding, Scout. His pasture mate had crossed a bit ago and Deb felt Scout needed a horse to accompany him. Deb visited us here one weekend and met Sophie for the first time.

Deb and I have communicated via emails and I, for some reason, have saved those emails. Now I know why. I'm going to let Deb's emails tell you the story from here. Read on if you want to read a love story. A story of devotion. A story of the perfect placement. A story of recovery. Sophie landed beautifully with Deb! You'll see! Read on and you'll see how it is supposed to be when a horse needing love and care meets her destined caretaker.

We begin on the day after Deb first visited Sophie here at THE FARM:

Sun 4/03/11 2:44 PM: I slept on it, got out some books, talked to a few people, including my husband, and decided a “gentle giant” would be a wonderful addition to our little hobby farm. So, if you still want me to foster ClydeMare, I would love to. The nesting instinct is setting in! Hope to hear from you soon. deb

Wed 5/04/11 8:57 PM: . . . the road is very straight & after almost a mile, you will go down a steep, winding hill. We are the first house on the right at the bottom. . . red outbuildings, big beige house. Excited lady in the driveway.

Sat 5/07/11 3:52 PM: Thank you so much again for everything! It has been a blast observing the horse behavior between these two! Sophie finally did go out in the pasture and Scout paced when she got too far away. She is staying very close to him, eating hay, chowing grass, drinking water and checking up on Scout as much as he is on her. I'm lovin' it Sandy! And they seem happy too! Thank you! Deb

Sun 5/08/11 9:44 AM: Isn't she beautiful? Does she wear eye make-up?

Sun 5/08/11 6:05 PM: Sophie and Scout are acting lovey again over the gate.

Mon 5/09/11 5:43 PM: I will be glad to take Scout's halter off, but with this next step thought it safe just in case. Uneventful. Sophie is very mellow! Ahhhhhhh :-)

Mon 5/09/11 8:44 PM: Scout is being really nice, no “hoof business,” even nickering to Sophie tonight over the fence while I was with her and giving her some great ear scratches and neck rubs. Scout came over to visit Sophie and me! Good night, backatcha tomorrow!

Tue 5/10/11 9:01 PM: I really will get over this, I promise. They are both in the “pen” for the night, without halters. I threw some sweet feed on her SC and she ate it. They are in love. He lets her do anything—she has mellowed him! It was 100% uneventful when we put them together later today, but beautiful to watch. I took about 75 pictures. I won’t send them all! :-0

Fri 5/13/11 7:10 PM: All is well--we're getting it! Scout did run thru a gate today though, as he was fired up w/the cool, breezy morning. Sophie just trotted behind him,totally mellow. She is so sweet Sandy! I brushed both of them early--can't wait to work on Sophie's legs! This picture is first day on roadside pasture, so halters on...just makes me feel better when they're so close to the road. Good luck with your weekend event! I'll check in next week.

Fri 5/13/11 10:30 PM: Thanks Sandy. We just love Sophie--she is so laid back… and just has to tame her new man! :-0

Mon 5/16/11 1:08 PM: Sophie and Scout are doing really well together—funny, at first he was in love, then he got bossy, and now he’s mellowed again. And what I really love is Sophie NEVER lets Scout get her riled. She’s like an older, wiser woman w/a little boy who never grew up; but at other times, they both look very much like two seniors just enjoying their old age. Scout has lots of calmness too!

Mon 5/16/11 7:51 PM: (Our adopted 2002 stray, "Boxster," who is a sweetheart, and rules.) A quick note to say what a wonderful day/evening I've had with Sophie and Scout. She got her meds and I think Scout has figured out I have enough love for both of them! (If only the hair we brush off our equines was worth money!!!)

Tue 5/17/11 7:52 PM: New POA: Giving Sophie her Pergolide in the early evening, with a syringe, and then all of her SafeChoice right after in a hanging bucket I bought at Fleet Farm today. Went well--I just mixed the Perg w/a little water. Maybe tomorrow night she'll spit it all out in my face :-o Don't have to tie them for feed as Scout gets the same thing, he's content and they both eat very very slowly...Just an old couple happy to be together. Sophie's halter is one I bought 5 years ago for Scout and it was WAY too big, so never used it, until now...:-) When I'm home all day, I don't halter them, but when we both are gone for awhile, I'm still keeping a halter on. They are both still learning their gates to the four pastures (Sophie teaching Scout) but they are doing beautifully!

Tue 5/17/11 10:11 PM: That little/big mare is medicine for me too…and John gets along with her just fine. I’m looking forward to he and I “ridin’ around the pastures!” Sophie has become one of my best friends. And Scout is OK with that! I’m going to keep brushing until the gleam is glamorous!!!

Wed 5/18/11 9:30 PM: Sophie was ready for me tonight, when I came with her meds. What an intelligent and sweet girl!! However, all went well, with some sweet talkin' from me. We all love her.

Thu 5/19/11 9:43 PM: I wonder when I will get over these daily updates… Scout was hilarious tonight—I was in a grooming mood and he was SO competitive and jealous of my attention to Sophie. But I have to brag that I had awesome communication with both of them, and everything went fine. It was adorable how Scout was attached at my hip, following me around to make sure I didn’t go near Sophie…but that changed after I reassured him. He really does love Sophie, and me too! This is FUN Sandy. Sophie is such a sweetie!! She does NOT like her medicine, but is letting me squirt it into her mouth, and then she gets her feed. Then they both spend at least a half-hour slowly eating their feed. So cute. Thanks……deb

Sat 5/21/11 8:01 PM: Today Sophie was laying down relaxing, then started getting up, lost her balance and plopped/fell back down. The photo I sent was right after that. She continued to lay awhile but was up grazing within 10 minutes and just fine. (she’s so much like an elderly person—who I care for in my job.) Scout IS happier w/Sophie, yet he’s changed some—quieter and more affectionate toward me. (Thanks Sophie!!!) They’ve gotten into a routine and seem very content. I wish I could see how they interact in the dark overnight hours. Sophie did a big “teethy-smile-face” yesterday when I squirted in her meds. Today she just quietly accepted. She knows the routine. Thanks Sandy and glad the sale is going well!

Sun 5/22/11 9:42 PM: Wild weekend weather for your sale—hope it still went well!!! Scout has always been riled up by storms but today he and Sophie stood calmly in the pasture with their behinds to the winds and heavy rain, just grazing. She, a wise woman, has tamed him. We just love her.

Wed 5/25/11 8:25 PM: Tomorrow is set aside for grooming! I'm looking forward to it and hope the weather cooperates and I can be outside! She is a nice horse, so easy going!

Fri 5/27/11 6:26 PM: This morning when I went out Sophie was laying down and Scout standing right next to her. Nice to see she can rest on the ground, peacefully, with her guy keeping watch ;-) They’ve hardly taken a break today from the pasture, enjoying the cool, rainy weather.

Tue 6/07/11 11:05 PM: Meanwhile…I’m just so thrilled to have Sophie here and I love doting on her. Next 4 days totally free—I’m so lucky—so I’ll be brushing. Her coat is sleek and lovely, but with the heat/sweating, needs some attention. My biggest victory is that Scout accepts and welcomes Sophie. He does have to be boss, but he’s very easy going with Sophie, which he wasn’t with his former companion, Magic, my other gelding…. (He likes his Girl!)

P.S. John and I went to check on S&S right at dark and we could NOT find Sophie. Scout was in the “pen/corral.” Then I spotted Sophie all the way at the end of the pasture and John said, “That’s where the eating is the best!” Then I asked Scout, “WHERE is Sophie?” and w/in a minute Scout trotted out of the corral and loped out to the end of the pasture and joined Sophie. It was TOO cute. We are truly enjoying Sophie!

What did I tell you? Love, pure love. Devotion and gentle caring. As it should be.

Thanks, Deb! From all of us at Refuge Farms and especially from Sophie! She looks remarkable, her butt is round, and her coat just gleams! As I've told you, when I come back I want to come back as a horse in your barn.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and a very happy Sophie!

" . . . remains undetermined."

2011-06-05T07:27:00.015-05:00

Last evening, at the end of the day, I stood in the driveway to the barn and just looked. I looked out at the pasture and saw them. And yes, I cried. I looked at them. And then I carefully looked. Not just glanced. I soaked in each and every one of them as deeply as I could. The mental pictures are burned in my mind. It is good sometimes to take the time to make those pictures. To take the time to soak them in. To look at them. Not just glance, but really look.

One week ago today, our lives were shaken to their cores as Jeri-Ann became ill. With no warning and purely as a hunch, she was taken to the University of Minnesota Equine Center. During her time there, I was faced with the ungodly decision: Do we treat her? Or do we euthanize her?

What was the decision? Why, even, the question? What on earth was wrong with her? And what was the outcome?

Below are the discharge orders for our baby, Jeri-Ann. I'll let those words from her attending veterinarians tell you how dangerously close we came to not having "The Baby" in our barns .

And then the next time you are here, you, too, will look. You will pause. Take the time. And look. Really look. You will soak them in, too. And you will create your own mental pictures. And yes, maybe you will cry a bit, too.

Client: Refuge Farms (Rescue)
Patient: Jeri-Ann, Equine, Belgian, Female Intact, 2550 lb, DOB 05/01/2005
Admit Date: 05/29/11
Discharge Date: 06/03/11

History: Jeri-Ann, a 6-year-old Belgian mare, presented to the University of Minnesota Equine Center on May 29, 2011 for evaluation of lethargy and changes in behavior. She had been observed lying down more often than normal during the day. no changes in food consumption were apparent. On April 15th, Jeri-Ann was vaccinated with a a 4-way, rabies, West Nile Virus, and tetanus and dewormed with ivermectin. She has direct contact with six other horses. The latest new horses on THE FARM were between February and April of 2011, but she had no contact with the temporary horses. Her manure production during the trailer ride to the hospital was decreased.

Physical Examination: On physical exam, Jeri-Ann was quiet and dull compared to her normal personality. She weighed 2,550 lbs. She had an increased heart rate of 96bpm and an increased respiratory rate at 36 breaths per minute. Her temperature was high normal at 101.3F. Her mucous membranes were pink and moist, with a normal capillary refill time of less than 2 seconds. Her gut sounds were normal in all four quadrants. intermittent muscle fasciculation (muscle quivering ) was observed, primarily over her neck.

Diagnostic Testing:

Neurologic Examination: Jeri-Ann exhibited mild hind limb ataxia at the walk. In addition, she was observed to pivot on her inside right hind leg when turning in tight circles and demonstrated bilateral weakness while performing a tail-pull at the walk. No other abnormalities were identified.

Rectal Palpation: This was performed on the nigh of admission and daily for the next two days. Due to the mare's large size, only a limited portion of the eposterior abdomen could be palpated. Within this area, no abnormalities were noted.

Manure Sediment: No sand was present in the feces, although a small rock was found.

Urine Specific Gravity & Dipstick: The results were within normal limits, consistent with normal kidney function.

Complete Blood Count: This test is sued to identify inflammation or infection, anemia, and possible visualization of Anaplasma within the blood. Anaplasma was not identified and all values for ed blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets were withing normal limits.

Serum Chemistry Panel: Jeri-Ann had a mild increase in liver enzymes, including SDH, GGT, and AST. She had an elevated CK at 880u/l, indicating mild muscle damage, consistent with her history of spending more time than usual down. Jeri=Ann had a slight decrease in potassium, attributable to her decreased feed intake.

Abdominal Ultrasound: No dilated loops of small intestines were noted in the ventral abdomen; however, intestinal thickness, motility, and abdominal free fluid were difficult to assess due to her large size.

EHV-1/EHV-4 Test: A nasal swab was submitted for virus isolation of Equine herpes Virus-1, a viral disease that can cause neurologic symptoms including ataxia. This test was negative, indicating that her clinical signs are unlikely to be caused by Equine Herpes Virus.

PSSM Test: A blood sample was submitted for genetic testing for Equine Polysaccharide Storage Myopathy, a genetic mutation causing an inability to properly store and utilize glucose. This disorder can cause weakness, trembling muscles, and increased amounts of time lying down and is common in draft horses such as Belgians. We will contact you when the test is complete.

Cardiology Consult: An ECG was performed the day following Jeri-Ann's admission; no abnormalities were noted aside from an increased heart rate. Although her heart rate declined somewhat over the course of the following week, it remained above 60 beats per minute throughout her stay. Dr. Tobais' examination on 06-03-11 revealed no murmurs or other abnormal heart sounds; aside from the elevation in heart rate no specific evidence of cardiac insufficiency or failure was noted. Peripheral pulse quality was normal. Dr. Tobias attempted to perform an echocardiographic examination, but due to Jeri-Ann's size it was not possible to obtain a satisfactory image of the heart. Dr. Tobias reviewed the mare's ECG strips, and concurred without assessment that the trace was consistent with sinus tachycardia, with no evidence of a pathological rhythm disturbance.

In-Hospital Therapy:

Fluid Therapy: An over-the-wire catheter was placed in Jeri-Ann's right jugular vein and she received intravenous fluids to maintain hydration and provide additional fluids in case her symptoms at admission were due to a colonic impaction. Her packed cell volume and total protein were monitored throughout her stay to asses her hydration status and remained normal for the entirety of her time in the hospital.

DMSO: In view of Jeri-Ann's neurological deficits at presentation, she received three doses of DMSO through a naso-gastric tube. This is an anti-inflammatory and antioxidant agent.

Electrolytes and Mineral Oil: 8L of electrolyte water was administered by nasogastric tube twice to help with hydration as well as maintain electrolyte balance. Jeri-Ann also received one dose of mineral oil to assist with gastronintestinal motility and act as a marker for GI transit.

Flunixin (Banamine): Jeri-Ann was given Banamine the night of presentation to help reduce pain and provide anti-inflammatory support.

Phenylbutazone (Bute): Jeri-Ann received two doses of phenylbutazone to address the possibility that her elevated heart rate was due to pain. When little effect on her heart rate was noted, this medication was discontinued.

Oxytetracycline: This is a broad-spectrum antibiotic, used to address the possibility of Anaplasmosis. Jeri-Ann received two doses daily by intravenous injection for a total of five days.

Vitamin E: As vitamin E deficiency can play a role in muscular weakness, Jeri-Ann received treatment with this vitamin during her period of hospitalization.

Assessment: At the time of discharge, Jeri-Ann was bright and alert; her attitude has improved dramatically since the time of her admission. Her appetite has improved and she has been eating hay and Nutrena Senior feed in small rations throughout the day and night. In addition, her hind lib weakness and ataxia has resolved. The precise cause of her illness remains undetermined. It is possible that she had a mild colic episode (e.g. colon impaction) that resolve with oral in intravenous fluids. Her heart rate remained elevated during her stay but gradually came dot to 60-66 bpm by Friday. There was no change in her heart rate while she received treatment with anti-inflammatories such as bute or Banamine, and her heart rate did not increase after stopping these medications. We have not identified any evidence of musculoskeletal pain. It is possible that she has a higher than normal resting heart rate, or that she has some abnormality in her heart itself that causes her increased rate. However, she is not showing any other signs of cardiac dysfunction at this time.

Recommendations: As the precise cause of Jeri-Ann's illness remains uncertain, please watch her closely over the next 2 weeks. We recommend that you monitor her heart rate daily for the next week, followed by once a week to every other week. Please give us or Dr. Kersten a call if you notice any recurrence of symptoms following her discharge.

Please monitor her water intake. She should be drinking approximately 2.5 five-gallon buckets of water per day, and even more under hot conditions.

Signs of heart failure to watch for include lethargy, coughing, difficulty breathing, development of fluid (edema) along her belly, and stocking up. Please give us a call immediately if Jeri-Ann develops any of these problems.

Thank you for bringing Jeri-Ann to the University of Minnesota Large Animal Hospital. She is a lovely mare and was a pleasure to work with. Please do not hesitate to contact us if you have any additional questions regarding her care.

Sincerely,

What a grand gift we have been given! Our baby, Jeri-Ann, has returned to us - elevated heart rate and all. We are watching her very, very closely and will not hestiate to re-admit her should the symptoms reappear. But today, whenever the thought crosses my mind, I look up. And I look. Not just a glance, but a look. And I treasure all of them. Every last body of them. And I rejoice for the gift of more time with them all.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd - especially Jeri-Ann

The Saga of Dude Continues!

2011-05-15T10:57:00.022-05:00

Just last April - a mere six weeks ago - I wrote to you and told you of "The Bravest Woman I Know". I told you the love story of Dude and Wanda. A "magic horse" and a woman. And how, tragically, the love between the two of them was tested to the point that Wanda had called and asked me to retrieve her Dude.

Against my better judgment but doing everything I could to support Wanda and her current needs, I did just that. On a Thursday morning in April, I drove to Wanda's town and loaded Sophie and watched as Wanda loaded her Dude into my trailer. And I closed the doors. I could hear the breaking of her heart as I latched those trailer doors. Wanda was strong but her face and the posture of her body told me of her severe inner pain.

Dude came back to Refuge Farms to live until a new owner could be found for him. Several people stepped up for this hero of a horse. Some would have been fantastic homes for Dude. Some would not have been good homes for him. No, instead, some were interested in acquiring Dude to "turn him over". I did my best to be polite and open with everyone who raised their hand for Dude but I kept quiet. I had an idea brewing in the back of my head . . . .

Dude was a gelding now. He had arrived at Refuge Farms as a stallion but we had gelded him as soon as Dr. Brian felt he was strong enough for the procedure. Dude was a chestnut. Now a shining, glossy chestnut color, at that! And he had white socks. Four of them. Socks almost up to his knees. White socks and white hooves. And he had the white markings on his face. Almost too much, I feared. Dude just didn't have a strip on his face, his entire face was white except around one eye. I was worried there was too much white on his face . . . .

And he had those blue eyes. I prayed that his eyes had wormed their way into the heart of someone I had in mind. Oh, I prayed that their brief encounter a while ago would have left a mark on this man's heart. I prayed that Dude was destined to go to the man I had in mind for him.

One telephone call on a Monday morning and I had a good feeling. The man was interested. Yes, he remembered the horse. Remembered him well. The man wanted to talk with Wanda about him, however. He had questions and wanted to talk directly with the woman who had worked with him and had brought him from a standing stallion to an easy riding gelding. I was just the go-between but I did all I could to encourage them both. I arranged the telephone call between the man and Wanda. And I prayed a bit more.

Wednesday evening my telephone rang. It was the man. He had spoken with Wanda and he had talked it over with everyone involved. Yes, Dude could be adopted by this man. That is, if that was still alright with me.

Was it! I was elated! Barely able to contain myself, I expressed my joy and relief at my dream coming true! Yes, this arrangement was just fine with me. Just fine with me, indeed! When should we transport Dude?

Trips to Arizona needed to be completed. Family health issues needed to be dealt with. And so it was decided that late-April or early-May, Refuge Farms would deliver Dude to his new owner. And it was a good placement. I had not one worry about delivering Dude to this man.

As I told people, "If Wanda had to give up Dude, this is the best place for him." And I meant it. Dude was landing on all four feet. Again. A second chance at being loved and cared for. This was one lucky, lucky horse.

So just his week, Dude was moved from Refuge Farms to his new home. A home full of other geldings. Chestnut in color. White socks. And white strips on their faces. Dude was loaded here and unloaded there. His head was high and his eyes were wide open as he surveyed his new surroundings. The handler walked around Dude and asked for each foot. All four feet were lifted as Dude was busy soaking in the new smells and sights. I stood and watched and breathed a sigh of relief. The first test had been passed. Dude was home. Again.

So just where did Dudely end up landing? Think back. I'll ask you to ponder it just as I asked Wanda to ponder it early last April. I said to her . . .

"Wanda, I want you to think back. Think back to the last six months and the things we have done together. Things you did for Refuge Farms that you normally would not have done. Tell me who you were introduced to because you did those things. Who you met that would be the ideal home for this precious horse of ours that we call Dude. Think, Wanda. Who do you think is adopting Dudely?"

My dear friend, Wanda, does not cry. Never seen her cry. But her voice cracked as she thought for a moment and then asked me, "Sandy, is Dude going to the Shriners?"

"Yes, my friend. Dudely has landed with Dick and his horsemen. The home of all homes. Dudely has landed on all four feet, Wanda. He'll have a wonderful, safe home for the rest of his life."

And so, earlier this week, I delivered this horse one more time. To a man that I trust with Dude. And there aren't too many people that I trust with that horse. You see, as Dude walked away at the Zuhrah Horse Barn, I could not help but be selfish for a moment and cry a bit. Because, you see, I love that horse. I have seen him down and about dead. I have seen him use every bit of his strength to stand just long enough so that he could pee. I have seen him collapse onto the ground again only to nibble on some grass or some feed.

And I have seen him get stronger, day by day. Until after six weeks,
he was gelded and then I focused
on "putting some meat on this boy". I found him with the puss-soaked chest and jaw and waited while
Dr. Anne restored his jaw. And then I cleaned his jaw three times a day and watched him as he healed.

And then, I watched the miracle of his rebirth. Dude became strong and he learned how to be a horse. The big mares here taught him how to socialize and how to be a part of a herd. And this proud horse continued to develop his muscle again and to use the feed he was given to build his body. And to grow a shining coat. And to grow new, normally shaped hooves. I watched this dead horse come alive again. And in the process, I fell in love with him.

Delivering Dude to Wanda, I had told you, was a true test of our commitment to this work of rescue. No one in this organization wanted to see Dude leave these barns. Many would have been happy to have him hang around. But a home with Wanda was a great fit and so he was delivered. And I cried. But I knew he was safe.

Earlier this week, we were tested again. Dudely had been back and had just fallen into the routine here at THE FARM. Spirit had recognized him as had all of the others. And he became the "big man on campus" once more. But a home with Dick at the Zuhrah barn was a great fit and so he was delivered. And I cried. But I knew he was safe. Again.

So, yes, Dudely is now a member of the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol in Maple Plain, MN. And I could not be prouder or more grateful to the man that I entrusted him to. Thank you, Dick, for even considering Dude. I rest well knowing this horse is set for life. And that he is in the best possible hands with you and your team.

I'll give Dude a bit of time to meld into his new surroundings and then, on a nice summer day, I'll drive to pick up my friend, Wanda. And we will head to the Zuhrah barn and Dick and Wanda and Dude will have time together. The two humans who love that horse will spend some time sharing notes about him. And sharing their love of him.

And I'll stand off to the side and smile. And be so proud of what Refuge Farms does. We rescue. We rescue the diers. Diers like Dudely. I'll stand there and look at Dick and Wanda and Dude and be so grateful to be a part of this Mission. And yup, I'll cry a little.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and a Very Happy Dude!

Coming Clean

2011-05-06T07:13:00.004-05:00

It has been over a month since I have sat at this computer and given you a blog. It has not been for lack of topics. Or contributions and efforts by The "Other" Herd, as I call this remarkable team of volunteers. Or antics by the horses. Or horses' lives saved. Or this weather! No, there have been plenty of stories to tell you. My lack of writing has come from my lack of spirit.

And it is just this morning with the sunshine bright and warm. And the yard growing green so quickly. And the flowers beginning to peep their timid, frightened little heads out of the ground. And the horses shedding every single last winter hair. It is just this morning that I need to come clean to you and explain.

It all started so innocently. On February 5th this last winter. A very ordinary morning. Hooking everyone. Finding Liz-Beth in the hay. Taking her halter and lead rope out to her to assess the situation and to talk with her. Get a read on her level of energy and frustration. Could I rock her up? Or did I need to retrieve the dreaded skid loader? I was standing talking with Liz-Beth. Simply standing in the hay. Having a conversation with dear, patient Liz-Beth.

POP!I found myself in the hay crying like a baby. My right knee had simply exploded in pain. After getting Liz-Beth righted, I found my way to the telephone and called for help. This was the start of it all.

It seems the tendons and the ligaments in my right knee finally gave out after years of hard work. Oh, and three solid kicks from three separate horses over the past two years. A trip to the emergency room on that day confirmed the need for a surgeon, and so I visited a doctor who ordered the scope procedure. And on February 17th, I began the journey to heal and recover. By Easter, he said. By Easter I would be close to 100% again. By Easter.

Six weeks after the procedure, I went to this surgeon and said, "Something is wrong with my knee." The use of pain pills was once again a normal and mandatory routine. My knee was shooting pains up my leg. The swelling had returned and was getting greater each day. "Something is wrong with my knee," became my mantra.

"Your knee is arthritic and so all bets are off." I was told to slow down and wait another thirty days. And so I did slow down. And the lists for these dedicated volunteers became longer. And I recruited assistance for nigthly chores since I was doing my best to slow down, as ordered.

Thirty days later, the pain was worse and the swelling was visible to anyone who simply looked at my leg. "Is that your knee in there?" people would ask. An injection was attempted which sent me over the edge! Pain, extreme swelling, heat, and an increase in the shooting, jabbing pains heading up my leg. Time for a new doctor.

I found a new surgeon from references. He watched me walk down the hallway into his examining room and said, "I know what's wrong with your knee." We spent the next five minutes in role reversal. He told me what my knee felt like and I confirmed his statements. This man knew what was going on in my knee. He knew! And then he explained it to me.

In women (not men) over 50 (not under) with a touch of arthritis, the blood flood disruption to the knee during the scope procedure needs to be monitored and precautions need to be taken. Physical therapy and exercise after the procedure are paramount. The blood flow must be restored promptly and maintained. The risk of not doing so could create a condition where the marrow in the leg bones begins to decay. The common name for the condition is "marrow decay".

As I listened to this man, I thought back over everything I had done to create the condition. No physical therapy. No exercises. Walking only "as tolerated". I could recall the very date that the marrow decay had begun. The most common symptom of the condition is the shooting pain generated by the decaying bone.

The MRI and X-Rays he took confirmed his suspicions. My tibia has a long, wide white spot of decay covering the entire top of the bone. My femur has a large white spot of decay on the lower inside of the leg. And yesterday, I learned that the femur also has cracks in that area of the bone since the decay has weakened the ability of the bone to sustain weight and pressure.

My initial reaction was to cut to the chase and replace the knee. "Get on with it! Get me healing once and for all! I'm tired of the pain and the lack of working in the barns! Do you know what I do for a living?"

But this man knows of Refuge Farms and he knows what I do. He is a horse owner. He listened to me cry as I felt sorry for myself and not being able to hook and feed, clean barns, and rescue! I believe he saw the emotional side as well as the physical side. And his advice: "Trust me, Sandy. For what you do, you will be much happier with your own knee rather than a replacement. Let's try to save your knee."

He prescribed aggressive physical therapy and gave me orders on how NOT to walk. On how to still go into the barns (only once a day) "to fill your heart", as he said. And then he asked me to find homes for his two horses. He asked me to give my knee some time to try to recover before we jumped to a full replacement.

So, I am sitting here - literally - giving my knee everything I can. Good, high protein foods. Exercise as prescribed by the therapists. Ice. Elevation. Rest. Only 20% weight bearing when I do move. And a ton of prayer. And in all of this sitting, I have been lower than I believe I have been since the crossing of my dear Sister, Donna Vye.

The lawn is growing! The Memory Beds are a mess! The barns are filthy! The place needs work to recover from winter! The fence needs work! And then there were the plans for the demolition of the old barn! And the Tenth Anniversary Open Barn! And the publicity work! My mental state has been poor, to be generous. I have spent the last two weeks seeing only what needs to be done. And it was only yesterday that I looked past all of that and saw what is being done. And perhaps, just now, I am seeing the lessons to be learned from this journey.

I see horses quietly grazing in the pasture. And returning to the round bales of hay that are ready for them. Because these volunteers arrived and dropped the bales for them. Whenever asked.

I see feed tanks filled with feed ready to be served to the horses. Because volunteers took the truck and got the feed and then returned and unloaded 2,000 pounds of horse feed. Whenever the tank gets low.

I see Gracie sleeping in the deep sawdust bed of her stall. With her blanket on. With fresh water and feed in front of her. In clean shavings. Because an assortment of volunteers arrive every evening - after their long days - to care for Gracie.

I see Liz-Beth coming into the barn for dinner. Every night. To be blanketed or brushed. And fed. Because when these volunteers arrive every evening - after their long days - and they also feed Liz-Beth.

I see stock tanks filled with water. I see blankets on PONY! as he needs them. I see Sophie getting fed and brushed. And I see Dudely getting fed. I see the dogs being brought back into the house and loved.

I see swarms of volunteers here to set up for the Antique and Garage Sale. I see them returning again tomorrow for more of the same.

And I see these faces as they turn to me and ask, every single time, "Is there anything else that we can do for you? Is there anything else that you need?"

My spirit left me a few weeks ago. I was defeated and angry and feeling so very sorry for myself. I was crying for the horses I could not save. And I was afraid of losing this leg.

This morning I am still afraid and I still have periods of anger. I try so hard not to feel sorry for myself. And I save as many horses as I can from this very computer and the telephone. As slowly as this knee is recovering, my spirit is returning with it. How can it not?

When I close my eyes at night, I utter a prayer of thanksgiving for those people we call "volunteers". Tears of gratitude roll for these Human Beings who arrive - some in foot casts themselves! - to care for this place and these horses. Who show their dedication to our Missions by living it. They are strengthening the weak. Binding up the crippled. And helping a lost one find her way back. They are caring for me as much as for these horses.

So, today I am coming clean. I have stories to tell you but I have not had the spirit to key them. I have not been able to pull myself up, spiritually, to get out of this hole I have put myself in. Until this morning. This morning, by coming clean with all of you, I am telling myself I must begin to heal. Not just my leg but my spirit. And so I am. I am going to do my very best.

Someday I will try to find the words or the ways to thank these friends of mine. These people we call "volunteers". To tell them how I look forward to their arrival every day! They are the bright spot in my day! They come into the house and sit with me and it is pure medicine for my soul. They tell me of their day and they tell me of the antics in the barns on this night. They fill me with their stories. And they hug me good night. They have become my family.

The least I can do for them is to heal. Inside and out. And so, by coming clean, I am beginning that journey. But only with their support.

I am afraid for my leg. I am afraid of how long this will drag on before it becomes evident what the next step is. But I am taking care to limit the weight on the leg. And to give the weight of this place to those who are stepping up to take it.

I am such a wealthy woman. I tell people that this knee must have a purpose. That there are lessons to be learned here. And maybe, I'm just now stumbling upon one of them . . .

In gratitude and with deep appreciation,
Sandy

The Bravest Woman I Know

2011-04-03T11:49:00.027-05:00

It was just about three years ago that I traveled only ninety miles north of Refuge Farms to find a building for a class I was attending. The class was on Large Animal Rescue Techniques. I was attending to learn concepts and theories. Not yet ready for detailed breakdowns of knots and pulley systems, I was looking for the general outline of how to get a horse out of a well. A ditch. An overturned horse trailer. A ravine. Or a corner in the barn.

The class was two days in length and by the end of the class, I handed my business card to one of the ladies who had sat at my table for those two days and said,
"If you are ever in my neck of the woods, stop by. I'd like to introduce you to The Herd."

Time passed. In fact, almost a full year past. Easter Sunday was here and with it came the rescue of Quarter Horse, Appaloosa Mare, and the horse we called The Old Dude. Three days after Easter Sunday, I was cleaning out the trailer from the weekend miles and a truck that I did not recognize pulled into the driveway. Hesitated. Then drove further into the property. The Old Dude was in the grass - on his side - and I suspected the truck was gathering information to report me to the sheriff for starving my horses.

But no, instead of reporting me, out of the truck came this woman. Cigarette dangling from her mouth, flannel shirt on her back, and sturdy blue jeans on her legs. Her first words to me were, "You said I could stop by if I was ever in your neck of the woods. And I was in Eau Claire so I thought I'd stop by."

The woman and I talked for a few minutes. While we talked, her eyes kept traveling to The Old Dude in the grass. Finally, she wandered over to him and just stood looking at him. The horse was so weak he made no attempt to even turn away from her. The horse didn't care. He was weak, the sun was warm, and he thought that maybe, just maybe, he might live through this mess that had become his life.

I'm guessing it was a good, solid ten minutes later that the woman walked over to me and said, "I don't know what's happened to that horse, but that is one fine horse you've got there."

Odd, I thought, to look over Babee Joy and Jeri-Ann and Josephina. To look over the big, fat, healthy ones and to say that this nearly dead skeleton of a horse was a fine horse. But, you see, the connection had already happened. These two were already recognizing themselves in each other.

We spent another thirty minutes together. Wandering into the pastures and meeting a majority of The Herd. Her criticizing me for allowing these horses to get so fat. And also instructing me on how to improve my fence, how to improve my manure storage, and how to improve the way I handled the big horses. This woman wasn't critical. No, she was just out there. No airs and no artificiality to this human being. This woman was as she presented herself. As she would tell me later in a telephone conversation, "What you see is what you get with me." And I respected her for her courage to be so real.

Before she left that first day, she spent a bit more time with the near-dead horse I called The Old Dude. This time, when she returned to me she told me, "You gotta change his name. There's nothing old about him." The Old Dude soon became simply Dude. And once again, she told me, "That's a really nice horse you've got there. What are you planning on doing with him?"

My response to her was to tell her that my plans were to see if I could save his life. Beyond that, I could not see. Right now, I was just trying to get him strong enough to stand for longer than three minutes.

She climbed back into her truck and told me that she'd see me around sometime. And then she was gone. I really didn't think too much of the visit except that I had a feeling I could grow to like that salty woman. The woman with rough edges. The woman with truth written on her face. The woman of few words.

Fast forward a year and Dude is healthy and ready to be re-homed. I advertised this horse in newsletters, sent letters to riding clubs, talked to Paint Clubs, and no one - not one single person! - inquired about this horse. No one was interested in the white faced, blue-eyed horse named Dude. No one except this woman.

She and her family were about to move, so some time needed to pass, but she would be interested in adopting Dude, if I thought she was good enough, she said. Did I trust her with this horse?

I had come to know the woman and indeed, I did trust her with this horse. Any horse! She was a woman of good character and loyalty. She understood the ways of a horse and took fine care of the animals that she was responsible for. Yes, I trusted her with Dude. Was she interested?

A brief span of two months later and Dudely was on his way to his new home. With Wanda. In the trailer with Dudely was ClydeMare who Wanda would foster so that Dudely would not be alone and also to help rebuild this elderly half-starved mare into a healthy state once more. If anyone would have the patience, the dedication, and the willingness to work at it every day, Wanda was the one to restore ClydeMare. And Wanda was the one to adopt Dudely.

That day was a day of mixed emotions. Dudely had been in these barns for eighteen months. A year and a half. He had come back from near death and had exposed his severely broken jaw to us. The horse had recovered from the surgery to restore his jaw and his gelding at seventeen years of age. This horse had learned how to be a horse in the pasture with other horses. He had been frightened, but soon learned that he was safe in and out of our barns. Dudely had settled in and become a part of The Herd, in his own way.

To find the courage to unload Dudely and leave him in someone else's care took just one look at the two of them together. Wanda and Dude were destined to find each other. He walked up to her and left me behind as if he knew exactly where he belonged. Not one look back at me. Dude followed Wanda as she showed him every fence post outlining his new pasture. I was now the outsider. And my heart filled as I witnessed such a perfect fit between a horse and a human.
"A good match", I told people. "This was a good match."

Later that fall, I mentioned to Wanda that it would be spectacular if she would ride Dudely into the arena at the Gala. Would she consider it?

HAH!

Weeks later, after I had bargained and pleaded and reasoned my heart out to the woman, she said: "I'm not a people kind of a person, Sandy. I really don't like being around people. And to be the center of attention at something like that just makes my stomach roll! But I'll do it. Hear me, though. I'm not doing it for you, Sandy. And I'm not doing it because of me or something I need to learn. I'm doing it for Dude. He needs the chance to show off how good he looks. I'm doing this thing for Dude."

And she did. And he did. It was a magical moment that I will cherish for as long as I am on this earth. The perfectly matched human and her horse made an appearance at the Gala that brought many to their feet and to tears. I could not have been prouder of Dude or Wanda.

The winter was past and her horses had done well. The care they had received was better than what most horses dream of! They were brushed at least once per day and sometimes twice per day. They were fed and had a clean water barrel every single day. They were given choice hay. And they were sheltered in the cold. Their blankets were kept clean and dry. And they were de-wormed on the date they were scheduled to be. Both horses flourished.

And Wanda? Well, she would call and talk to me about her "magic horse". About the horse that gave her a reason to put air in her lungs. About the horse that she loved like mad. This woman and this horse were a unit. Together they were one, solid, knowing unit. They both worked their magic on each other. They were healing each other. At times, Wanda would simply say, "I just love that horse, Sandy. I just love him."

Just a week ago, I received a text message that puzzled me. It took two days of talking before I understood enough of the situation to realize that action needed to be taken. Actions that I did not necessarily agree with and actions that I would have never, ever dreamed would be requested of me, but actions that Wanda expressed to me herself. And so I did what she asked. I went and took ClydeMare and Dudely back.

It seems that Wanda has some health issues. And those health issues prohibit her from being with her horses alone. Unfortunately, there seems to not be a support system for her to allow her to spend time with her horses, and love them, and groom them, and heal from them. Unfortunately, it seems the decision was made that Wanda needed to "get rid of" her horses.

I did as Wanda requested. I didn't like it then and I don't like it now. The slumped over little woman that I left standing in that driveway was severed. Her heart was broken into little pieces. To load Dudely into the trailer and close the door on him took monumental strength on her part. She did it. But she was now the "Old One". Her face showed the pain of her loss. And her shoulders showed the weight of having to give him up.

On Thursday of this past week, Dudely and ClydeMare (Sophie, as she is now called) returned to Refuge Farms for re-homing. To find another home for each of them and to help them adjust to another handler and different water and new hay and different ways. The horses will survive. They are nervous and a bit unfriendly right now. And that's understandable. They want to go home. They want to see and hear and feel that familiar woman who has cared for them so well this past year.

On Thursday of this past week, I witnessed bravery beyond words. To give up the other half of yourself because of things out of your control. To give up your horse when you love and cherish that horse. To give him up trusting he will land well and that someone else will know about his jaw and his tendencies. To give him up to perhaps never touch or see him again.

On Thursday of this past week, I came to know this woman again. Yes, she is still salty. Yes, she still says what's on her mind in plain, direct ways. Yes, she still tells you how to correct your mistakes. And yes, she still doesn't listen too well. But this woman is brave. She has no control over her health, it seems, and so as a result of things out of her control, she must surrender Dude.

I hugged her and tried not to cry. She told me she needed to stay "tough". "But", she says, "this is a hard one. This one is going to take a while."

Wanda is the bravest woman I know. And I cherish her friendship, her criticisms, and her ways. But most of all, I'll do my very best with Dudely to insure that she knows he is safe and well cared for. And maybe, when her health is restored, I will work with her to find another horse that she can love. Not as much as Dudely or in the same way as Dudely. But another horse to brush and smell and feed and talk to.

Please say a prayer for Wanda. That she is healed on all fronts. And that she finds a way to survive.

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

You Are Invited!

2011-03-13T08:37:00.013-05:00

This past span of fourteen days has been a roller coaster of a ride! My knee continues to heal, although I challenge it every single day with trips to the barns, assistance in raising Liz-Beth when needed, working full days at the antique store, and generally just pushing it farther than it should be pushed so soon after surgery.

But as I tell myself, I will rest in just a bit more time. Isaac is coming to trim the herd tomorrow and Tuesday. Work beckons again next week, and then there are the spring dewormings and vaccinations. Once caught up with these tasks, there will be time enough for resting and icing of that knee.

Until then, the brunt of the hard labor rests on the shoulders of the volunteers. Yesterday, the week's worth of pellet bags magically appeared in the kitchen. Without asking. The piles of boxes of used cat litter found their way to the dumpster. Without asking. Upstairs litter boxes were changed and feed and water bowls refreshed. Without asking. I am weak with words and feeling so unable to express my appreciation to those of you who return - week after week - to do what is needed. Without asking.

My only gift to you is to tell you what my Mom told me when I asked her why we always delivered a hot dish to certain families. Why did we give our clean, newly ironed clothes to another family. My Mom would look at me and say, simply, "We are earning our wings, Sandy." Didn't have a clue at the time. Now, I think I'm seeing her logic. In today's language, my Mom would say that you are paying forward. Thank you.

This week has also seen strong, honest, and gut-wrenching conversations about what the Missions of Refuge Farms really are. I have been challenged to rescue more "saveable" horses so we can adopt them. I have been challenged to euthanize rather than treat. And I have been challenged to set a price tag before "pulling the plug". All good, worthy challenges.

We are a non-profit. We have limits to our resources. We are not unlike every other little non-profit who is struggling to meet the demands for our services and still maintain the health of our organization. It would be so easy to overpopulate and bring us to our knees! It would be so easy just to go under! To stay afloat and find ways to keep the doors open is the challenge. And, I'm telling you, it is a big battle that never, ever gets any easier!

On the 26th of March, Refuge Farms is holding the first of two Volunteer Training sessions. Attendance at one of these sessions is the only mandatory meeting for a Refuge Farms volunteer in the entire year. Volunteering is just that - the giving of yourself. So mandatory meetings tend to make me wince, but the legalities of operating a non-profit with liabilities and risks and laws makes this training mandatory. And so it is.

I am so looking forward to these sessions!

First of all, the University of Wisconsin - Stout Graduate Program has become involved with Refuge Farms and two of the students have taken our Ways of THE FARM and remodeled the entire approach. A much needed task that I never could get around to getting accomplished, it is now in the final stages and I am thrilled! Patrick and Jamie, the students, visited THE FARM on one of the coldest Saturday morning's we've had in quite some time and we hooked and fed. We acted as if they were new guests to THE FARM who were interested in volunteering.

Patrick is 6'4", and so I sent him to retrieve Lanna. Good lessons learned. Jamie is a dog rescuer, in the past, and so I sent her to retrieve Spirit. More lessons learned. From this experience, the text of the document came to life and their approach to the project of rewriting - heck, creating! - the Volunteer Handbook was fine tuned.

Both students will participate in the training class on the 26th. And I'm thinking you will be impressed with what they have grasped and their efforts to take a monster of a text and create a meaningful handbook for you.

We have Amy attending to teach us about a new fundraising technique. Wait! Before you roll your eyes! You'll like this. No one has to sell one single ticket to anything!

And we will discuss what it is that we do at Refuge Farms. What is our Mission? What is a "dier"? What is a "sanctuary" versus a "rescue" horse? What is it that we do? Really.

I look forward to this discussion. We have some numbers - facts! - from the University of Minnesota that show you investments over the past few years. You will be surprised. Those that viewed the numbers in the past week were taken off guard. The numbers were "not as expected". Good visibility. Great examples. As one said, "This puts meat on the bones of the Missions".

I look forward to this session. We, as a group, need to discuss. That means we all need to talk. To voice our concerns. To clarify the questions in our own minds. We all need to talk about our Missions so we are all of one mind. These past few years have thrown some big challenges our way. Dudely. Handsome. Now, Gracie. Liz-Beth. And, of course, Laddee.

We need to talk about them. What do we commit to? What do we do for them? For how long? And why?

Those of you who have separated from THE FARM in the past few months because of concerns over Laddee - I would encourage you to attend the class. Hear the Missions stated clearly and plainly. See the numbers. I'm not asking any of you to change your minds! I'm asking only that you listen and attempt to understand.

Refuge Farms is an organization built upon a challenge. And a set of promises given. How do we keep those promises? How do we work to meet the challenge? And how have we changed our promises and the efforts of the challenge given the world and how it is changing around us?

I had planned to write another story today. Another blog of a totally different nature. But this morning, as I hooked and fed The Herd, I felt the need to get this message out there. And encourage those of you who have questions, who have issues, who have concerns, to attend the meeting. No need to sign up to be a volunteer! Just come and listen. Participate. Hear. And, hopefully, understand our position.

This meeting is a process in my mind: many individuals coming into a room. Chatter. Laughter. Tears. Questions. And then at the close, one body going out into the world. Solidified in The Missions.

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

Meeting Specifics:

Saturday, March 26th, 2011
Beginning promptly at 10am
Bring your own lunch and beverages
Anticipated completion by 2pm
Menomonie Public Library Community Room
600 Wolske Bay Road, Menomonie

We Have A Building Committee!

2011-02-27T13:09:00.014-06:00

I first met Tom and Julie when they attended one of our holiday public hours here at Refuge Farms. "Julie is the horse person," Tom told me as Quarter Horse nudged at his elbow. I enjoyed them both - Tom with his twinkling eyes and Julie with her ready smile.

It wasn't long and that very same Quarter Horse went to live with Tom and Julie. As Tom's horse, no less! TR joined Quarter horse as Julie's horse. And I rested knowing that those two horses were set for life. When Tom and Julie adopted a horse it was a lifelong commitment. And the horses were lucky. Daily brushings. Good hay. Clean water. And their choice of shelters in the winter.

Not long after that, more horses were added to their barns on a foster basis. Some of the worst went to Tom and Julie. Horses that I thought may not pull through. Horses like "The Camp Mare."

When I delivered "The Camp Mare" it was brutally cold already in November. And this little mare had no meat on her. None. Her coat was long and curly and matted. Her head hung in weariness. And her little legs could barely hold up her little body. Neither Tom or Julie batted an eye. They welcomed The Camp Mare. Began their daily routine with her. And cared for her.

The following summer I stopped at their farm to see them and as I drove up their driveway, I noticed a new horse in their pasture. Good for them! They had added to their herd. Later, as we walked to the barn to see Quarter Horse and TR, I found out that the new horse was The Camp Mare! Oh, my! Her head was high! Her coat was sleek. Her tummy was plump. And she had spunk and spirit! Oh happy day!

So when Tom asked to talk to me about something, I figured it was an adopted horse or something to do with one of the foster horses they currently had in their barns. But nope. Tom wanted to talk buildings. Or lack of them. At Refuge Farms. And when Tom talks about buildings, I listen. The man has been in the industry for years and he knows of what he speaks.

His plan? To create a Building Committee and work on some of the obvious needs for facilities. Tom and Julie saw plainly that I put the funds into things that breath. But that the buildings would soon be limiting our abilities to rescue and support the horses in our care. Wisdom, is what they call that.

Would I object, he asked? Could he begin a Building Committee and work on a hospital where the old barn stands? A hay shelter and an office where the hay pad now sits? Would that be acceptable to me?

I had all I could do to stand still! YES! I knew we needed new buildings and work on our existing buildings but my mind isn't built to work like that. And again, my heart is so focused on the horses! YES! That would be more than acceptable to me, Tom! Please, do!

And so, for the first time in the history of Refuge Farms, a Chairman of the Building Committee was named. And for the fist time in the history of Refuge Farms, a Building Committee Capital Savings Account was opened. Tom began creating ideas and brainstorming layouts. Ideas and dreams became concepts and goals. And all because someone saw a need and stepped up to fill the need.

The very first thing Tom and Julie did was to "put their money where their mouth is", as they say. They donated some of their delicious, tasty, organically grown beef to a raffle. Linda and Jim J. of Eau Claire jumped on board, as well, and donated a basket of tasty snacks and brews as well as a gift card to Applebee's. The stage was set and the first ever Building Fund Raffle was announced!

Tickets were distributed and the volunteers of Refuge Farms came through. Tickets were sold, funds were gathered, and the date of the drawing arrived. Tom did the honors of drawing the winning names and he did so in high fashion, don't you think?

On January 31st, 2011 the drawing was held and the winners were announced. They are:

5th Prize - Ten (10) one pound packages of Tom and Julie's great ground beef was won by Gary S. of Eden Prairie, MN. Congratulations, Gary!

4th Prize - The $50 Applebee's Gift Card was won by Ron B. of Chippewa Falls, WI. Happy eating and congratulations, Ron!

3rd Prize - The Tailgate Basket of tasty snacks and brews was won by Toni P. of Spring Valley, WI. Sure hope that made the Super Bowl even better, Toni!

2nd Prize - Twenty (20) one pound packages of Tom and Julie's great ground beef was won by Liz S. of Ellsworth, WI. Congratulations, Liz!

Grand Prize - Oh, the Grand Prize! A full one quarter of Tom and Julie's beef was the Grand Prize won by Margaret McQ. of Lino Lake Drive, MN. Congratulations, Margaret! How wonderful!

The raffle was a success for all of the winners and through the effort, a grand total of $2,530.00 was raised for seed money in the Building Fund Savings Account. Miracles and more miracles! A savings account that never existed before and now, with a balance of over $2,500.00!

Tom wrote: "I would like to extend my sincere thanks to al the volunteers who stepped up and made this raffle possible, and to all the people who purchased raffle tickets in support of Refuge Farms."

I would like to add my thanks to all of you who bought a ticket. To all of you who sold tickets. To Linda and Jim for donating the Applebee's Gift Card and the Tailgate Basket. And a special "Thank You" to Tom and Julie.

For stopping by Refuge Farms that day to walk into our barns. For adopting our horses. For fostering our horses. And for seeing the need and stepping up to help fill the need.

Yes, without a Building Committee, the old barn would come down and nothing would appear. The round bales would continue to sit in the rain and freeze to the ground. And The "New" Barn would continue to show wear and tear and soon would become the new "Old Barn".

But with a Building Committee and Tom leading the effort, there will be energy and ideas and accomplishments. And dreams will come true. There will be a hospital. And then our little Gracie will be able to stay home with us! And others will be able to be supported and healed that otherwise would be beyond our capabilities.

Great things begin with single ideas. And I'm here to tell you, great things are beginning around this humble little parcel of land so far up on a hill!

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

A Portrait of a Laddee

2011-02-10T16:55:00.008-06:00

Sherri posted again today. When the image appeared on my screen, it took my breath away! This is how Laddee would have looked had she been healthy! This is how Laddee must have appeared as a young and vibrant mare with her whole life ahead of her! And this is how Laddee must now appear in her whole and heavenly state.

Read on! Enjoy Sherri's word and her creation. And just imagine her art glistening in the sun on a summer day!

Thursday, February 10, 2011

PORTRAIT OF A LADDEE

I think I have finally gotten this to a good stopping point. It took a few days of living with the original version to decide on what the background should be.

Whether to have a background or not was the first question and secondly was how to render it. The great part of making art is the magic..... starting with a nub of an idea and finding it takes you some place you didn't know was going to exist as the outcome. My solid blue background suddenly didn't seem as exciting as her aura! After days of "thinking" about what to do, it took just minutes to let the real solution present itself.

Sandy Gilbert and I have had emails back and forth as we have discussed Laddee, her voice, and how she was influencing how this was going to turn out. With Sandy's knowledge and input of the fine Laddee, there was some tweaking so I could get it! We finally arrived on the notion that this version is her "other side" portrait where she is restored, happy and healthy.

Posted by Sherri at 11:33 AM

Another Posting on Sherri's Blog!!!

2011-02-01T21:19:00.007-06:00

Here's what Sherri posted on her blog today . . . just look!!!!!

Creative Process at Work - Part 2

The abstract version of M'Laddee is nearing completion. This piece is one of my "stained glass" paintings. It's part pastel portrait, fantasy art, and study for a stained glass pattern.

The second version is a more impressionistic portrait, also in pastel.

"She Speaks Through Me"

2011-01-31T06:42:00.017-06:00

Many of you have met Sherri Anderson. Responding to my call for help, Sherri was here this summer to help us unload and stack donated hay bales. And Sherri has attended our Gala. Many of you will connect to Sherri, however, as the artist. The woman who created the vase of Laddee that was in this year's Gala Silent Auction. Or the woman who works with glass. Or the woman who is a part of the Fall Artist's Tour. And who creates a special piece of her art to raffle for Refuge Farms during that tour. Spreading the word. Understanding the heart of us. And the horses.

Sherri has created a blog for us. You might remember that she is a Parelli student. And a spiritual person. She is tiny but huge in heart. And I am ever so grateful for her presence in my life. It was a calendar . . a Refuge Farms calendar that brought her to us several years ago. How she found the calendar? I think it was a spot on a news program. Honestly, I cannot remember that detail, but I am grateful just the same.

The two of us have spoken of Laddee for a long time now. When she first arrived. As she went through her surgery. During her period of "blooming". And then after her crossing. Just a few days ago, I emailed Sherri. Said that Laddee had been close to me for a while now. And, surprisingly, that her presence had not brought the grief and the tears that I had expected. But instead, her presence had brought a sense of calm and peace. I was leaning on her as I tried my best to close 2010 and the struggles and losses of that year. And as I battled the cold and the fears of the severe temperatures.

I asked Sherri if she would consider creating a piece to adorn Laddee's Memory Bed. Something that reflected her lovely side. Something that had some pink in it. And maybe a rose or two. Something that was soft and loving and comical and warm and gentle. Something to place on her and that would create a smile.

My email was created so as to not create too much pressure. Hah! My mind has a picture of this Memory Bed for this girl. A water fountain. Roses. Star gazers. More roses. Pink apple trees. And this piece of art. How would Sherri respond? Was she busy with commission work? Preparing for another show? Busy with her own life? And healing after her own loss of their dear Helga?

I needn't have worried. Her email came back to me with a willing "yes". She would work on something to adorn Laddee. It was cold outside and this was the time of the year she enjoyed spending in her studio most. She would "do something" and then let me see what I thought.

Only a day or two later, I heard from Sherri again. And email with the subject line, "She speaks through me". I knew exactly what that title meant and was joyful to open the email and learn that Sherri had spent time creating Laddee. My tears ran freely as I saw her sketches. Oh, my! It was Laddee! It was her! Standing on that wall looking out at me! Sherri even said, "This is almost life-size in my studio and I'm enjoying having M'Laddee around!"

I had no idea what Sherri would create. Would it be a piece of glass with colorful shapes? Would it be a prism-like piece? Would it be something with wings? I had no idea. But what I saw was her. It was Laddee. Sherri had spent time with her that day and this was the result of her initial sketches.

Her email told me that she was going to blog about the experience on her blog. She felt the experience was "blog worthy". And so I watched for that blog and read how she had felt as she created her art. It is that blog - complete with the sketches - that I now share with you. (http://www.sherristudio.blogspot.com/)

What will adorn Laddee's Memory Bed? I'm not sure yet. And I don't care. You see, I trust Sherri. I trust her talent and her heart. She knows my heart and my love of this mare. And she will create what it is that my heart needs to say. I know that. And I am resting knowing that whatever Sherri's creation becomes, it will be what it is that my heart struggles so to express. Sherri knows. And I know, too, that Laddee is guiding her.

Thank you, Sherri. I am beyond thrilled. I am grateful for you. Again. Still. A piece is in place in my inner self knowing that Laddee will be as beautiful after as she was during. Bless your talented, knowing, and giving heart.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Creative Process at Work

It's my favorite time of year for working in the shop. Too cold to do much else!

I got an email from my friend, Sandy, at Refuge Farms. She would like some art to commemorate her dear Laddee who passed last fall. Laddee was a special lady, indeed! (As is Sandy!) We had talked about having something made in her image months ago and it has been in my mind-- settin' to gellin'! I had been thinking about Laddee a lot before Sandy's call and when I told her we were thinking similar thoughts, she set me straight---Laddee is the one sending these thoughts! OK, I can work with that!

Laddee, the big Belgian mare used to like to threaten people with death if they got close. She lived a life we would only dream of forgetting. But through her life others have learned to live.

So the drawing began. I took out a big sheet of newsprint and vine charcoal to lightly sketch out the form. I had been thinking of how to do this for a long time and the drawing came easy once it was time to put the lines on paper. I tend to draw big and this time was no exception.

The drawing above was the first draft. Then I got to thinking about the rose feature and decided I didn't know how to draw a decent rose, so after some research, I printed out a rose to replace my weak one.

So the bed of roses is more meaningful to me as a way to portray her as a Lady, and one who deserves roses--pink ones at that, since she really was full of love. She just had to experience it from Sandy first.

Now with that in place I am inspired! So much so that I am rethinking the whole design. I think this sketch is a work in itself, but I went on to add another feature.

I have added an eye clipped out of a magazine. The imagery is gaining momentum in the sense of her story. The rose over her right eye is to symbolize the tumor that was removed from that socket. Her left eye was also blinded but in this image her sight has been restored to reflect her stored strengths on the other side.

I have many ideas of how to proceed with this image.....and it might take several versions in varying styles to satisfy my desire to make it right. It could be an oil, a pastel. I would love to try a watercolor. If I knew what I was doing, a computerized collage could be cool, too. But at this point, I'm still committed to a solid drawing.

I get a lot of ideas from my subconscious before sleep and before I wake up and from what I have been given so far I am inspired to.....get to bed!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and Sherri's M'Laddee!

An Update on Our Little Gracie

2011-01-23T08:32:00.016-06:00

Gracie just kind of grabs you. She is so tiny and so ladylike. So alert and so fragile. You walk around the corner and she lifts up that little head of hers and you are a gonner. Gracie has you in her grip. It happens right from the start. Just ask me.

Gracie arrived in a large cattle hauling stock trailer. On a cold February day in 2006, Gracie appeared as a favor to a kill buyer that I knew. He needed a destination in order to drive his rig on the state highways and Refuge Farms ended up being that destination. "Just for the weekend!" I shrilled. "This horse is not staying!" I screamed to the air.

The story, according to the kill buyer, was that the horse was loaded and the owner had been paid. But the kill buyer was a bit perplexed. Why was this horse "bonging around" in the back of his trailer? Why didn't this little pony just stand? What was going on? "She's blind," the owner informed the kill buyer. "And she's in your trailer now", the owner flatly stated as he turned and walked into his house.

The kill buyer knew the laws of Wisconsin. It was illegal for a person with his market license to be hauling a blind horse without a specific, verifiable destination address. He ran the risk of losing his truck, his trailer, and his market license. His whole way of life was on the line for this one blind pony.

He called me. And I told him we were full. Overfull, in fact. I remember saying, "No room at the inn!" But we struck a deal: the horse would stay in a box stall for the weekend while the kill buyer found a new home for her.

I remember the Friday afternoon she walked off that trailer. Remember it like it happened just yesterday. One of our volunteers was here and led her off the trailer. The face and the eyes of that volunteer were pleading with me to change my mind. I shook my finger and warned, "Don't pet her. Don't brush her. Don't fall in love with her. This horse is not staying!"

Friday afternoon she spent in a strange box stall in a strange barn. Quietly eating hay. Drinking strange water. Never calling and never making a fuss. Just politely eating hay and listening for the humans who so frequently peeked in at her. And marveled at just how tiny and how cute she was!

Friday night I checked on her before going in for the night. She was curled up in the shavings and sleeping. I went in to her and went against my own rules - I pet her. She lifted her head and seemed so content. I was struck with just how "at home" she seemed to be. Warning her not to get too comfortable, I closed the door and tried to forget her for the night.

Early the next morning I stopped by her stall to check her water, give her fresh hay, and to say good-bye to her. I had to head into work that Saturday morning and I fully expected the kill buyer to stop and retrieve her. This little one would be easy to place, that was for sure. She was a cutie.

I fed everyone and then re-checked her. I went into her stall and she lifted that little tiny head up to me and her little velvet nose touched my face. I felt the warmth of her breath. She nuzzled me. And I was a goner.

She ate a bit and then settled down on the shavings for a nap. I sat down right next to her and, with my arms around her neck, I talked to her and gave her The Three Promises. We would respect her and never hurt her, we would feed her, and we would keep her on THE FARM forever. The little blind pony that came to us for a weekend in the back of a filthy cow hauling stock trailer was now a member of The Herd.

And I named her Grace.

So gentle. So trusting. So willing. And so petite. My heart was firmly implanted with hers and I promised her we would care for her. Whatever that meant.

Those promises are being tested now. Gracie has reacted to a stress in her life that has rotated her front toes. She has become very thin. Almost frail. And being so thin and frail, she cannot tolerate the cold of this Wisconsin Winter. After 24 hours in a warm stall, she has begun to eat and drink again. And she has won over the hearts of those who care for her.

I visited her yesterday and she recognized my voice. That same little velvet nose brushed my face. She accepted my hugs and touches as I examined her tiny little body. The ribs protruding. The spine visible. The tail head prominent. Her rapid weight loss greatly concerns me. The reason seems to be the cold.

Gracie has a bucket warmer in her Refuge Farms stall to keep open water in front of her. In her temporary stall, she now prefers warm water.

Gracie has a bucket in her Refuge Farms stall with SafeChoice in it at all times. In her temporary stall, she now prefers warm, soaked feed.

Gracie has blankets on at all times once the fall air turned brisk. In her temporary stall, she now stands without blankets and scratches herself.

So what do we do?

First, we will take it one day at a time. Gracie is an important part of our family and we will not just give up on her. That, my friends, is not our way. We will support her and find a way to get her through the remaining days of winter to the warm weather of spring. But it is that effort that may require all of us.

We will weigh Gracie before she leaves her temporary warm stall. And we will watch her like a hawk once she is in her Refuge Farms stall. Measuring her intakes and her outputs. The forecast will be an even more vital part of my day since, I fear, that cold fronts over us will require us to temporarily house her where it is warm. We will work hard to restore her full, round little body. And then we must consider all of the options and what is best for Gracie.

Do I know what we will do? Haven't got a clue.

What are our options? They are many! We can continue to jockey her from THE FARM to a warm facility. We could board her for the winter months. We could construct a spot here at THE FARM that we could maintain at 10 degrees and keep her safely at home. A warm nighttime stall seems to be the goal. Exercise and other horses to scratch and interact with during the day and then warmth and safety at night.

How we will get there? I don't know that either. I know the old barn will be taken down this summer to make room for "The Hospital" building. Is it realistic to think that building will be ready to house Gracie next winter? I'm not sure it is. So how do we keep our promises to this little bundle of magic? How do we support her and love her and present her with the warm feed that she eats so very delicately?

I don't know these answers. But I know we will keep our promises to this little creature. Big words, yes. But just watch. Big words that mean big actions. Watch for that, too.

This is more than just one can manage, however. So once again, it is time for 'The Other Herd' and The Friends of THE FARM to consider assisting in the cares of this little one. If you are willing to assist in the financial support of Gracie, I have listed below her expenditures this past week. Can you help to keep her stall clean and dry? Can you help with the constant supply of bedding she will require to rest on at night? Can you help with keeping her winter blankets clean and dry? Can you help in the cleaning of her feed bucket and her water bucket? Is there any way that you are willing to volunteer your support in our efforts to keep our promises to Gracie?

The future is unknown but we will go forward with our FAITH bucket hanging in our barns. And we will find ways to care for her as well as all of the others. Will it mean keeping her at the U of M Equine Center if another arctic blast comes to our doors this winter? Probably. Will it mean that Gracie becomes the focus of our conversations and my bulletin board postings? Probably. Along with Liz-Beth, Miss April, Handsome, and all of our other special needs members. But forward we will go. With Gracie.

This is uncharted waters that we are entering. The members of The Herd are hardy and tolerate cold weather remarkably well. Having one that is sensitive to the cold and stops eating when cold is new to us. And requires many heads coming together to solve the dilemas and create solutions.

So ponder our Little Gracie. Think of how delicate and sensitive she is. How darling she is. And then join us as we work to find ways to support her and give her a good quality of life - even if it is cold outside.

Thank you for considering.

And thank you from Gracie. Tiny, delicate, darling little Gracie.

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

From The Wish List:

Gracie is in need of support in the form of cares, medicines, and equipment to help her feet heal and her life be restored to as close to "normal" as possible. If you would like to help Gracie, here are the opportunities:

***** EQUIOXX pain reliever: 15 tubes ordered at $7.98 each
***** ULCERGARD ulcer medicine: 15 tubes at $34.95 each
***** U of M medical expenses for initial exam and x-rays: $287.50
***** Soft-Ride orthotic Gel Comfort Boots (2 boots needed): $184.69
***** Cleantrax solution for foot soaks after trimmings
***** Specialized Farrier work estimated at every 4 weeks for 6 months(?)
***** Vitamin B/Thiamin gel supplement: $103.26
***** Hospitalization 01/18/11 thru 01/24/11: $446.59

Our Little Gracie - It Is What We Do

2011-01-16T09:05:00.033-06:00

In these past few weeks, we have put 2010 behind us. We have each, in our own private ways, tucked the memories and the tears of that year away. We have stood tall, taken a deep breath, and exhaled long and slowly. We have lifted our faces to the skies and closed our eyes. To hope. To pray. To wish. To imagine the year ahead. Please, we prayed, let it be a year of good works. A year of smiles and hugs. And a year of healing. Please. Let 2011 be a good year.

With hesitation, fear, and hope, I dropped the horse trailer onto the truck early this past Wednesday morning. Everyone was hooked and enjoying their breakfast. The sun was rising and the air seemed as though it may actually be a decent today. Maybe in the teens today? What a grand relief that would be!

I began unhooking everyone and hugging them. I hadn't slept well and I was apprehensive and a bit on edge. Today I would take one of The Herd to see
Dr. Anne at the U of M Equine Center. And I was nervous. What would be the diagnosis? The prognosis? What decisions would need to be made today?
And where would the strength to make those decisions come from?

Gracie innocently stood in her stall. Grateful for the brushing I had given her
this morning and for the clean, winter blankets I had dressed her in. She soon
decided it was time to rest and so snuggled in the shavings. Oh well, so much
for a clean Gracie!

She obediently came with me as I took her out the front door of the barn and into the trailer. But once in the trailer, Unit called to her. Spirit called to her. Miss April called to her. And she called back! At the top of her lungs, Gracie called to all of them from the trailer. She may be little but her voice is mighty!

Our ride into the U of M was slow and gentle. And I know I was irritating to the people who had to pass me as I rode in the right lane. But I had Gracie in the back and I would not risk her. Not on those tender little feet of hers. And especially with her being so tiny in that big trailer.

Once inside the doors of the U of M, we dropped the winter blankets and tiny, thin little Gracie was oooh'd and aaah's over by the students. Exclamations of how cute she was flooded the air. Melissa came over and hugged me, making a comment that Gracie was not the typical patient that I brought to the U!

Her weight was 418. Gracie is down about 50 pounds since the Gala. A symptom, we now think, of her level of discomfort with her sore front feet and even possibly a response to the prolonged use of bute to help her manage that pain.
We moved her to a stall and the exam proceeded.

She was listened to, felt all over, her feet were lifted and all kinds of numbers were recorded. How as her manure? Was she wobbly on her feet? Did I see her falling? How long since her last seizure? Dr. Draper was there and, honestly, that made me nervous. Neurological ailments were Dr. Draper's specialty.

Dr. Vallberg came in and suggested a Vitamin B supplement. An eye pressure test was completed and it was decided that further neurological examination really wasn't possible with the tenderness of her feet.

X-rays of all four feet were taken with two x-rays of each front foot taken - one from the side and one from the back. (The x-rays are shown at the bottom of this blog.) I moved the truck and trailer while the x-rays were being taken. Afterward, I was once again standing in the hallway while a procedure was performed. Knowing my tendencies, some of Laddee's technicians appeared to talk with me and share their cheese lunch with me. Thank you. Very much.

It seems silly to be so worried about sore feet, but I also knew that sore feet can be so severe that there are no options. I also know that blood work can give us liver and kidney readings that mean a shortness to life. I also know that the feet cannot perform or legs cannot move because something is wrong in the brain.

And then there is the dementia thing to talk about. Why does Gracie "get stuck" next to the board fence in the summer? Why does she "get stuck" between the round bale and the gate? Why does she "get stuck" standing out in the open?
Why does she just not remember how to turn around?

There were no clear answers to these questions. Blood work has not yet been returned so we don't know if there are any readings to give us any clues. Many of us hope - and pray - her tendency to become lost and "stuck" is just an issue of lowered mobility.

Her x-rays showed us toes on both front feet that have rotated downward. Why? We don't know that answer. Could it have been the seizure? Probably not since that was several years ago and her tenderness seems to be only in the last 12 - 18 months. Toe rotation can come from moldy hay, from a reaction to stress, from a reaction to a fever or illness. None of these occurrences seem probable, but somehow Gracie sustained an insult to her system and that insult manifested itself in the rotation of her toes.

Can we treat Gracie and help her recover. Yes!

Nothing in the tests showed Dr. Anne that Gracie was far enough in trouble to even consider end-of-life. It would be a long journey, she told me, but then she smiled and reassured me that it could be managed and Gracie could return to the pasture with careful cares for the next few months.

So, what do we need to do?

We need to manage her pain with a non-steroidal pain medicine.
We have moved her to the Equioxx paste which is a once daily dosage. Every morning, before I present her with her hot mash, she receives her pain medicine.

We need to treat and then prevent further ulcers in the lining of her stomach.
We have added a product called UlcerGard to her routine. Once daily, she receives a dosage of medicine to help heal what we think are ulcers in her stomach and then, after those are healed, to prevent more ulcers for as long as she is on the Equioxx. Every evening, before I present her with her hot mash, she receives her ulcer medicine.

We need to have our Specialized Farrier work on her hooves.
The x-rays of her feet have been forwarded to him and he has said, "Looked at
x-rays and can see I have a lot of hoof to work with. GREAT ! Lots of heel to come off and not to worry about sole thickness. There appears to be some remodeling of the toe of the coffin bone but not bad. We need to get a warm day and maybe even soak her hooves in warm water for about 15 minutes to soften them up so she doesn't feel the pressure of me cutting on them so much. I think we can do a lot to help her." How fortunate we are to have this talented man in our corner!

We need to cushion her feet until her hooves have been reformed to relieve the pressure of the rotated toe.
Right now, until her hooves are trimmed the first time, we have 2" styrofoam insulation duct taped to her front feet. Her feet will form the insulation to their shape and this will reduce the pressure of hard earth pressing on her sore toes.

We need to purchase Soft-Ride Orthotic Gel Comfort Boots for her to wear long term.
They are boots that will come off when she is in her box stall with the padded floor and then be put on again when she is ready to go out into the pasture. Why the boots? I believe the best way I can explain them to you is to ask you - wouldn't you want slippers on your feet before you were asked to walk barefoot on gravel? Gracie's feet will remain that sensitive, so asking her to walk "barefoot" isn't kind or humane. So, boots it is!

We need to purchase Cleantrax, a solution to soak her feet in immediately after her trims.
This product will work to reduce the bacteria in her feet and promote healing. Taking only thirty minutes per hoof, it is a small effort to help her feet remain healthy.

We need to find a Vitamin B/Thiamin paste additive to add to her diet.
Vitamin B is a great appetite stimulant and Gracie needs to add some weight
back on her frame. Now. Her spine is visible as are all of her ribs. Fifty pounds
off of a four hundred pound animal is excessive weight loss in only a little
over two months.

We need to find feeds that are high fat that she will eat.
Right now, I make a hot mash for her twice a day and she is starting to take a liking to it. The mash is soaked beet pulp, SafeChoice feed, Releve feed, and cut up apples topped off with a cup of apple juice. Regardless if she finds this appealing or not, if her stomach has ulcers she will eat a few bites and then stop. So we need to watch for symptoms of ulcers healing and her appetite increasing or of her continued lack of interest in food.

We need to keep Gracie in her stall until her pain level is reduced.
This means she has a floor of 8" of clean shavings on the floor for two reasons:
to keep the pressure off of her feet when she stands and to reduce the chances
of sores on her body from the blankets and the pressure from her lying down so much.

Every day, her blankets are removed and her body is brushed and checked for signs of pressure. Her blankets are replaced and she receives her daily dosage of hugs and kisses. And paste medicines. And hot mash. And every day her shavings are cleaned with her stall completely emptied and brand new shavings put down at least once every week.

We need to proceed with the neurological exam, when we can.
When Gracie is 2 to 3 trims into this process, she will return to the U of M for follow-up x-rays and the neurological exam. It is important, we feel, that we proceed with the neurological exam to try to understand her tendency to get "lost" and get "stuck". So when we are in the muddy season, we will bring her back to Dr. Anne and Dr. Draper and see if there is something misfiring in her little brain.

For now, though, we are focused on supporting her and allowing her to find a way to heal her body. Gracie seems content in her stall and is warm under her blankets. She eats maybe a cup of her mash each feeding and I watch eagerly to see if one of these times she will eat a bit more. Her leftovers are fed to Liz-Beth who appreciates the hot beet pulp flavored with apples. But Gracie needs to eat.

She receives fresh hay in a blue barrel twice daily in addition to the round bale in her stall. Her water is tracked and her bucket is refilled twice daily. I'm actually thinking of hanging another heated bucket in her stall with apple juice flavored water in it. Anything to get her water intake increased!

Once again, Refuge Farms is expending its resources in support of a Sanctuary Horse. Once again, we are investing money and time and energy into a horse that many would discard or refuse to treat. Gracie's feet will never be sound again. She will always have tender front feet. So, many would ask, why treat her?

We treat Gracie for the same reasons that we treated Laddee. And Handsome. And for the same reasons that we continue to treat Miss April. Because we can, through medicines and treatment and energy and time, give Gracie a good quality of life. She can eat grass this summer and sleep in the sun. She can feel the warm spring rains on her withers. And she can scratch with Handsome or Appaloosa Mare or whomever she pals with.

But mainly, we treat Gracie because we promised we would. Because it is what we do. Does it cost money? Yup. Does it take time? Yup. Will it be easy? Not necessarily. Will it work? Only time will tell us. Will it get to the point that Gracie will give up? Maybe. But until then, we will support her, help her, and treat her.

Very simply, we treat Gracie because it is what we do.

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

Right Front Side X-Ray

Left Front Side X-Ray

Right Rear Side X-Ray

Left Rear Side X-Ray

Right Front X-Ray - Back

Left Front X-Ray - Back

The Refuge Farms Building Committee

2011-01-09T09:13:00.019-06:00

Hello and Happy New Year! Many of us met yesterday for Blaise's Memory Meal and I must say, more than once we all agreed and vowed that 2011 would be a year of great healing. For us and for the horses. May it be so.

And so we look and work for the future. A future of taking in the "diers" and giving them shelter, love, care, and treatment. And, in order to continue doing just that, we must look at our resources - our buildings - and prepare.

Below, you will see a reprint of the article Tom Atsatt wrote for our 2010 Winter Newsletter. In it, Tom modestly told you that he had seen a need here at Refuge Farms. And so last fall, he stepped forward, asked to start a Building Committee, and assumed the leadership of that Building Committee.

This is a first for Refuge Farms and a much needed role to be filled! My focus is the horses. Always the horses. I stay focused and so put funds into the breathing components of our Missions – the horses. But Tom, in his wisdom, saw that we are in jeopardy of not being able to continue our Missions if we don’t have weather-worthy buildings!

Many of us have talked about barn needs, office needs, hay shelters, but it has been just that. Talk. It took Tom to step up and commit to getting something done! For instance, the old barn. Literally falling down around us, this barn must be dismantled before a disaster happens. And prior to dropping the old barn, we must make adjustments to our herds, we must move box stalls from the old barn to the new barn, and we must prepare electrical, telephone, and water supplies for the demolition. Then, we must dismantle and rid ourselves of the structure.

Sounds simple, doesn't it? Don't let it fool you. There is a myriad of details to be thought through and a list of work to be completed. And Tom, with his experience and connections, will carry it to fruition. Refuge Farms is so very lucky to have Tom and have him willing to take on these responsibilities!

The wisdom and experience of this man make him an excellent leader for projects like the demolition of the old barn, the creation of a Hospital Facility in its place, the creation of a shelter for our round bales, and even the creation of an office outside of the residence (and yes, with an indoor potty!).

During our Annual Christmas Breakfast at Applebee’s just last month, Tom and Julie unveiled the first fundraiser for the Building Committee –
the raffle. We have asked our volunteers as supporters of Refuge Farms, to sell to these tickets to their friends, their co-workers, and even themselves! The prizes are fantastic! Just look at them! And thank you to our donors – Linda & Jim J. of Eau Claire, WI for the Super Bowl Basket and Tom & Julie for the beef. The drawing is January 31st – just in time for Super Bowl.

Tickets are $5 each or a packet of 3 for $10. The prizes are:
* Quarter side pasture raised beef - a $500 value
* Twenty 1 lb packages of pasture raised ground beef - a $50 value
* Tailgate basket of snacks including a 12 pack of Leinie's beer - a $50 value
* Applebee's gift certificate - a $50 value
* Ten 1 lb packages of pasture raised ground beef - a $25 value

Thank you to all of you for your efforts for the Building Committee by buying and selling these raffle tickets. And especially, thank you to Tom Atsatt for stepping up and helping this organization continue to save lives!

Happy New Year to each and every one of us!

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

Reprinted from the Refuge Farms 2010 Winter Newsletter:

Hello Fellow Friends of Refuge Farms,

With the wrapping up of the Refuge Farms Fall Gala, it means another year is coming to a close. Another busy year for Refuge Farms, with this year’s Fall Gala benchmarking the 10th Anniversary of the horse rescue and sanctuary. One more promise added to the original three. Promises that when stated sound so rational, promises that reflect the way that we ourselves would like to be treated, but sometimes, in the case of our equine friends, can take almost herculean efforts to achieve: to be treated with respect, not to feel hunger and thirst, to know a Forever Home, and to improve the quality of life.

Through Refuge Farms program called “Horses Helping . . .,” the horses give back to us, demonstrating the power to recover from neglect and abuse, and again open their hearts and minds to the world around them. Hundreds of horses have had their lives improved by the efforts of Refuge Farms, either by it becoming their Forever Home, or by becoming adopted or fostered horses. My wife and I have adopted two horses from Refuge Farms, and foster two others. We know firsthand blind trust as we lead and work with our sight-impaired mare, and have seen life renewed in aged horses by regular feed and care.

Refuge Farms has touched many lives, both equine and human, and with any non-profit organization, it takes work, dedication, time, and donations to keep it running. Unless specified otherwise, much of the donations go in to the care and feed for the horses. In the past ten years, only minor repairs have been done on the actual buildings at Refuge Farms. This year the Refuge Farms Building Fund has been initiated, the donations of which will go to the structures at Refuge Farms which are in dire need of repair and replacement, and which will continue to create protection and facilities for those horses that come in for rescue, and to also improve the conditions for the care takers.

Luckily most of us have never experienced having to set out pails in the attic, or climb into bed and find a pool of water soaking through the covers and mattress, because of a leaking roof. So the first item on the Building Committee’s agenda is to replace the house roof. Second on the list to tackle is the “Hospital Building”, the structure you see straight ahead as you drive into THE FARM, where the sick and injured horses are cared for.

This building is literally moving sideways and we are praying it will last through this coming winter. We need to replace it with a building that will allow Refuge Farms to continue to provide the care and safety needed for the charges we have promised to protect. The third project on the list is to provide a new run-in facility that would allow every horse inside shelter and storage of the hay helping prevent loss from the elements.

The Refuge Farms Building Fund has been established to start the process of repair and replacement. We are accepting donations specific to the building fund through various means. Donations can be made via direct mail, or in the near future on-line via the web site. We will have donation cans at upcoming events and we are also planning a raffle that has prizes, like a farm raised ¼ beef, ground burger gifts, a tailgate basket (including beer), and a $50 gift certificate for Applebee’s.

We believe the repair of the structures at Refuge Farms can and will be accomplished – just reflect on how much the volunteers and the caring friends of Refuge Farms’ has accomplished in its’ first decade. Please help us ensure it is around for decades to come.

Sincerely,
Tom Atsatt
Chairman, Refuge Farms Building Committee

P.S. If you would like to be a part of our raffle by either selling tickets or by purchasing tickets, please email THE FARM at refugefarms@hotmail.com and we'll get you taken care of promptly! And good luck! May you win the prize you're hoping for!

Prayers for a New Year

2011-01-02T12:19:00.045-06:00

It should be a really simple thing to do. Take one calendar down and hang a new one. After all, it is the Refuge Farms Tenth Anniversary 2011 Calendar so I should be eager to hang it in my office and gaze at it. But the simple act of hanging the new calendar is not the issue.
I hesitate because in order to hang the new calendar, I must take the Refuge Farms 2010 Calendar down. And that means removing the face of Blaise from
my left shoulder.

Our Blaise crossed in the month that she was featured. Blaise was our "Miss December 2010" and her crossing earlier this week was a shock and has really jarred me. From my very center. The impact of her crossing is far reaching for many. And to fold the pages of the 2010 calendar would mean to fold over the picture of her face.

It is purely symbolic. Am I ready to leave 2010 behind me? Am I ready to close the doors from so many crossings in such a short span of time?

Am I ready to leave Judy!Judy!Judy! behind me? The little Belgian mare with those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes that looked right into my very soul.

Am I ready to leave her twin sister, Sandy, behind me? Sandy, the headstrong, bullish little mare that showed no pain and was invisibly struggling with issues that most horses would have died from long before.

What about Gitanaa? Am I able to leave her behind? The beautiful, half-starved little Arabian mare that thrived so under the cares of her foster parents?

And then there is Little Man. How can I ever leave the year behind me that took him from us? Little Man, who covered tens of thousands of miles with me in that truck. Who rode with me everywhere. Who loved - no, adored - children. Who made tours to Refuge Farms a treat because even if our guests didn't 'take to the horses' they would invariably 'take' to Little Man. Those big brown eyes and that lovely little chocolate body. The pal and teacher to Keller. And my shadow. During chores, during rescues, and even during errands. There was always Little Man to greet me and be with me.

Ole' Man Cole would need to be left behind if I were to move forward from 2010. Andy's horse. "The Old Horse" as Andy called him. Headstrong, bossy, and a master at opening gates. Cole was a challenge to care for with his asthma-like summer conditions and his tendency to chill in the winter. And let's not forget that he had not one tooth in his entire head, either! So feeding the horse was time consuming and laden with care. But Cole was worth it. Andy loved that horse. And to hug Cole made me feel as though I was hugging Andy. To leave 2010 behind me would mean leaving Cole behind me. Can I do that?

And then, of course, there was the crossing of Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare. To leave 2010 I must leave behind a part of my heart. Many have told me that they saw nothing special in this horse. Many have told me that they have "a problem" with the spending of energy and resources on a horse that is terminally ill. Many have told me that "putting her down" upon her arrival was what they would have done. Many disagree with the treatment that we gave that mare. But none - not one! - is able to disagree with the gentle, comical, easy mare that appeared right before our eyes. The Killer Mare became The Princess. And in doing so, Laddee gave us tangible, measurable, absolute, and visible proof of the power of love. No more is "the magic" a dream that we talk of. We have proof. Real, honest, witnessed proof that love works. The power of true and honest love was visible through the life and the lessons of Laddee.

Will we treat the next terminally ill horse that appears in our barns? Yes. Because it is what we do. We rescue the diers. And in doing so, we will find the Laddee's and many others like her. We will find the joy of a hug from a horse who thirty days earlier flung you in the air like a beach ball. We will find the reward from just watching them eat. We will measure them and thrill in a quarter inch gained. And we will find the joy in watching them scratch with each other as we watched Laddee scratch the big gelding that she has chosen to replace her Kentucky Jack.

To leave 2010 means I must leave Laddee and move on without her. Close the chapter that rewrote The Three Promises and created Laddee's Promise. I must leave a piece of my heart in 2010 if I leave that year behind me. Knowing that her presence changed Refuge Farms forever. Knowing that for some of us, this little mare changed us forever, as well.

And then, in the final days of 2010, Blaise crossed, too. Yet another of our ministers decided it was time to move on. This was Andy's little mare. Andy admired the sturdiness of this horse. He liked how she just "did it without any fuss". Blaise was one of our key horses here in these barns. New guests, new volunteers, children of all ages were put with Blaise for their first lessons on what a horse feels like. On how to walk around a horse. On how to brush a horse. And on how to work with a blind horse. Blaise was my silent, dependable companion. And I loved her dearly.

To leave 2010 behind I must close many chapters. I must move forward without some that I have leaned on for years. Looked to for stability and strength. Some that I went to and hung on to when no one else was around. When I needed to weep or rest. Some of the most magnificent listeners were lost in 2010. So how, how do I close the year and take that simple calendar off of the wall? How?

It has taken me two entire days. With this blog I will fold the 2010 calendar and gently place it in an envelope to be stored with all of the details of the year. Hidden in a box with all of the receipts and newspaper articles and reports. With the minutes from Board meetings and from budgets created a year ago. I will take 2010 and put it away. In the simple act of taking a calendar off of the wall, I will move forward.

It is done.

And so how does one move forward when your heart is still grieving? Grieving from some wounds that are so large they seem bigger than you? From some wounds that are so fresh the blood hasn't stopped oozing from the wound yet. How does one more forward when grief is so present in your gut?

Today, I gave 2011 a chance. A friend came over this morning and we spent over two hours in the barns. Brushing horses. Teaching my friend how to walk behind a horse. Teaching my friend how to blanket a horse. How not to startle the horses considering their past experiences and fears. How to read when a horse is relaxed versus about to flee. And we did all of this with a variety of horses.

My first inclination was to retrieve Blaise. But I needed to look elsewhere and so we spent some time with Lanna. Josephina presented herself and more was learned. Liz-Beth became a part of the lesson and showed us fright in response to loud noises. Appaloosa Mare gave her lesson, as well. We found other horses in the absence of Blaise and Laddee and Ole' Man Cole.

We ventured in with The Big Three and brushed Beauty. Babee Joy joined us and asked - visibly asked - for attention. And then Jeri-Ann just pushed her way in, too. We played with the dogs. And watched as they wrestled. I found canine companionship in dogs other than Little Man.

I find myself searching for replacements to some of the very best creatures that will ever grace these barns. And I'm convinced I will not find replacements. But I will find substitutes. And these others will be able to learn and serve the same purposes as those we are missing. I'm finding that I now hug and lean on some that I haven't leaned on in the past. And I'm finding that they are curious and a bit puzzled, but they will learn and they will respond. I will find my soul mates in the barn again. In 2011 I will find my heart again. I pray I will find my heart again.

And so we begin a new year. Closing the book that was 2010. Filled with chapters. Each chapter a life that came to us along their journey. A life that moved on in 2010. The book is too full, in my opinion. But then, as a dear friend asked me once, "Who asked you if it was okay for them to die?"

I close 2010 and begin 2011 with hope for better days. And determination to survive. And with faith that others will show their strengths and become key players in our lives. That others, when given the opportunity, will step up and become the horse for the newbies. The horse with the story. The horse that transforms right in front of our eyes.

I close 2010 and begin 2011 with a prayer. A simple prayer to the God that I believe in. I try to ask very little of Him. But as we start 2011, I ask that we be tended to. That hands be placed around us and we be protected for a little while. That we know peace for a little while. I ask that we be given a bit of time to heal ourselves so that we may heal others. That we somehow be shown the joy again. And that out of our sorrows will come healing and lessons and new found faith. That we will soon smile at the mention of their names. That the stories of their lives will become the very basis of our Missions.

Albert Schweitzer wrote a prayer that I have pasted to my wall. It is a good prayer and I pray it often now. Looking for that strength and that perspective that is so needed in this world of rescuing the diers. May you find strength in this prayer, as well, as we all take down the 2010 calendar and begin again. Begin with a new calendar. Begin the brand new year of 2011.

May we find peace and healing in the coming year,
Sandy and The Herd

A Prayer for Animals by Albert Schweitzer

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals, especially for animals who are suffering; for any that are hunted or lost or deserted or frightened or hungry; for all that must be put to death. We entreat for
them all Thy mercy and pity, and for those who deal with them we ask a
heart of compassion and gentle hands and kindly words. Make us, ourselves,
to be true friends to animals and so to share the blessings of the merciful.

Amen.

The Little Mare That Waited

2010-12-28T05:46:00.031-06:00

There are no magic words. No easy ways. No kind thoughts or phrases. Only the stark and brutal truth to tell you. Blaise crossed last night.

It has been ten hours and I still can't find a way to say it. I cannot find the words to break the news in a way that is just and kind and respectful enough to do right by this little mare. This was Andy's horse. Blaiser, as we called her. A kind horse willing to do anything we asked of her. Willing to stand while anyone brushed her. Or walk with anyone when asked. Blaise was a gem of a horse. And the abscence of her is enormous.

Everyone ate breakfast yesterday and even Blaise was eager for her feed and her carrot treats. It was in the 20's yesterday morning but it was damp and chilly. I left everyone to stand for an hour while the sun burned through the fog. When I saw the sun was almost through, I went out and changed a few blankets to lighter ones and set them loose for their day.

Blaise had been blanketed for the first time this winter. She just seemed a bit smaller to me and she was getting older, you know. And yet she was proud. Very proud. When I first put a blanket on her after the big storm, she lifted her head as if to tell me she would tolerate this thing. Barely. And only for me. She was sturdy, you know, and didn't need a blanket. But if it would make me feel better, then go ahead and put that thing on her.

Twenty minutes later when I put my hand under her blanket on her side, she was toasty warm and I hugged her and thanked her for doing that for me. "If I know you are warm, I'll be warm, Blaiser", I told her. Not one for showing affection, she simply walked away from me.

So yesterday morning, I took a heavier night blanket off of Blaise to put on a lighter windbreaker-style blanket. I wanted the sun to warm her but the wind on this hill was raw and I didn't want her to chill. While between blankets, I scratched her tummy like she enjoyed. Her jaw came out and she twitched her head. Oh, that felt good! I made sure I reached way under her tummy and scratched her good. When she had been scratched enough, she reached back to nudge me her thanks. I then put on her lighter blanket and left the gates open for her, like I always did.

You see, Blaise was one you rarely needed to lead anywhere. And in these last several years, if she did need leading it wasn't with a halter and lead rope. No, I just lightly, very lightly, placed a cupped hand under her jaw and she went with me. This was one well-behaved horse.

Yesterday, I left the gate to her stall and the gate to the Gelding's Side open while I went about the business of unhooking the horses on the Helen Keller side. I didn't hear her nor did I see her move out of her stall and into the paddock. But she did. When she felt it was safe and she could move without bumping into anything or another horse. Blaise didn't want any trouble. She would move away from a threatening horse and so she waited to move until she could see an open path. She was patient and she was smart.

In the evenings, when I asked she and Liz-Beth to come in for supper, it would be Josephina who would be standing in the doorway threatening Blaise's entrance. So, I would open the gates and make sure Blaise's meal was prepared: feed, four carrots broken into bite sizes, and her pergolide sprinkled on the carrots. Once all was ready, I would walk to Josephina's side and spread my arms wide open to create a human fence and I would say the words, "It's okay, Blaise. I'll protect you." When those steps were completed, Blaise would silently pass into her stall to eat her meal.

Blaise was easy to overlook. She was quiet and obedient. She would not push through other horses for carrots. No, instead she would simply vanish. Crowds of guests did not excite her and she had been in her fair share of noisy arenas. She wanted only the quiet and an easy access to the hay. Not one to hoard the hay, I would see her sharing her meal with Gracie or PONY! or Liz-Beth. She moved away from Josephina or Lanna, but those that were more blind than she or more in need than her were given access to her food. She was kind and gentle. And she willingly shared.

And Blaise was a caretaker. When Laddee first arrived - way before her surgery - I put that dangerous, rambunctious, fast moving mare in the Helen Keller pasture with Blaise and Quarter Horse. Now, Quarter Horse had been a mirror image of Laddee - blind, rambunctious, fast moving, and defensive. But after only three weeks, Blaise had pal'd up with Quarter Horse and shown her "the ropes". There was no need for biting here. Or pushing here. Or kicking here. There was plenty of hay for all of us. "Here", she said to the Quarter Horse, "I'll show you a better way to be." And Blaise brought Quarter Horse to a place of calmness that I could never have taught her. Blaise was a caretaker.

And so when Laddee appeared in her pasture, it was Blaise who took Quarter Horse with her over to this big, smelly, pushy mare. And the three of them worked it out. Blaise, with the one good eye and knowledge of where to stand out of the sun. Where to find the cool water. Where the good hay was sitting. And who else in the pasture could be trusted and tolerated. Blaise, the wiser, calmer, experienced resident of Refuge Farms taught the newbies how to relax and enjoy themselves. She taught them to be calm because they were safe.

It was Blaise that taught Laddee how to come in and go to her feeder for her meals. In the beginning I would go out and get Laddee only to come in the barn and find Blaise eating at Laddee's feeder. As Laddee came to trust Blaise, I would just step aside and the two would come in and stand at the big corner feeder and share a meal. To watch that transformation was to witness a miracle. The little paint mare bringing the huge, angry Belgian mare into the barn and then the two of them standing and sharing feed together. Like I said, Blaise was a caretaker.

In all of her years with me, I never saw Blaise fight or bite. She was a peacekeeper. A caretaker. A truly gentle soul. And she was Andy's horse.

When I pulled in this driveway on that hot July day after driving fifteen hours up from Texas, I was terrified to open the trailer. My primary concern was for "the old horse". Would Andy's old Tennessee Walker make the ride? Right from the beginning, Blaise just kind of melted into the woodwork. She just didn't stand out. She was just there. The attention was always on someone else other than her.

But not that day! "The old horse" was just fine after the trip and so I unloaded him then went back in for the little mare who stood so quietly in the trailer. With my mind on the old one, I reached for this mare and startled her. She reared, caught me with her left front hoof, and knocked me out cold. When I awoke, I was flat on my back in the empty trailer with the mare standing at the back door. Waiting for me. Obediently standing two inches from the back of the trailer, patiently waiting for me.

Yesterday, Blaise had laid down in the pasture in the avenue I had plowed for delivering hay. I covered her with blankets and called Dr. Brian. Then quickly hooked everyone else to insure no one got hurt or in the way. Blaise spent a few minutes outside and then looked for the rest of her herd. When she saw no one, she gathered her strength and with herculean effort, got up on her feet. Those shaky legs took her into the barn and she put herself in the very center of the barn. On her side. At rest. In the middle of the barn. Surrounded by her friends. For the first time, I saw Blaise do something to give herself comfort. She took, for once. And with that gesture, I knew her time had come.

What a girl. What a friend she was. What a trusted ally. What a dependable member of The Herd. What a caretaker she was. What a partner she was in helping me teach humans about horses. What an intelligent creature she was.

And now, I believe she is finally happy. Blaise moved here in July of 2002. And in all of those years, I never saw her smile. When she and Cole arrived, the two were joined at the hip. One did not move without the other. They even went to the stock tank and drank together. You couldn't see her because Cole was a bit taller than her, but she was there. On his side. Stuck like glue.

After introducing them to The Herd, Cole found other horses to pal up with. And Blaise waited for him to return to her. But Ole' Man Cole never did return to her. He found many other girlfriends and never stood with her again. But Blaise waited. And once in a while, she would wander up to him and he would move away. She had been rejected and I could hear her heart breaking.

I tried many horses with Blaise, hoping one of them would scratch with her and heal her little broken heart. But no one was ever successful. Blaise was waiting for her one love to see her again. Those two had been through starvation and neglect together. They had traveled fifteen hours together in a little horse trailer. They had moved from Texas to Wisconsin together. And Blaise trusted Cole. She would stand by him to sleep, trusting that Cole would watch out for her.

And her waiting became more obvious and more intense after her right eye failed her. I still clearly remember the morning she came in and that eye was blinded. Her face was wet and she acted as if it was a scratch. I cleaned her and saw that the eye had literally flattened. I gave her some bute in case there was pain but she continued on with her life as if it was simply a wound and in a bit of time it would heal. She waited. Waited for her eye to heal. Blaise never compensated for that blind eye. She did not accept the blindness. It was a wound. And wounds heal. And she waited for this wound to heal.

And so, as I told Dr. Brian last night, I am hopeful that now Blaise will find her love partner and those two Texas kids will be together and happy once again. I pray that this little mare finds peace. And whatever she was waiting for. Waiting for all these years.

The black flag for Blaise will be put on the road sign post after the storm. Out of respect for Blaise. She didn't like the wind or the rain. She didn't like to be messy. Blaise didn't like to walk through the mud. And this little mare did not roll in the dirt to keep the flies away. She was too much of a lady for all that. So, when the storm has passed the flag will go up. When the wind and the rain have passed, the black flag will fly for Blaise. In tribute to the little mare that you didn't see. That melted into the woodwork. That didn't stand out. That would not push up to the rail for a carrot. The one that was silent. The little mare that waited. Blaise.

Born: 05/12/1981 Arrived: 07/27/2002 Crossed: 12/27/2010

This Christmas Morning

2010-12-25T06:26:00.019-06:00

It is early on Christmas morning. A light dusting of fresh dry snow has covered the already buried ground with a new layer of pure white. The horses are calmly munching on their hay while they await the magic appearance of their breakfast buckets. The dogs are asleep in their kennels and the cats are huddled around the pellet stoves. All is calm.

During my years of writing these stories, I have told you many times of the Gilbert family on Christmas morning. My Dad drinking his coffee while he watches us quickly since he probably has been called to plow runways at the airport. My Mom as she works in the kitchen: ever present and ever worried. So sad that Dad has to leave us but always a smile on her face. Never showing her disappointment which I now know to be heartbreak. My sister, the consummate lady, with her hair fixed and her makeup on for Christmas morning presents and pictures. And me. Yes, me. All a mess. All noisy. And all about Christmas!

We would have Christmas albums playing on the Hi-Fi Stereo system that Dad had splurged on one year. The big Christmas colored lights would be shining on the real, live Christmas tree that we had cut from the back acreage. Tinsel that my Sister had hung on the tree would be glistening. The tinsel I had thrown on the tree would be a mess. The plate of cookies I had set out for Santa would be reduced to crumbs and my note - or was it a letter? - to him would be written on by the man himself. I was convinced he existed. I knew it! And Christmas morning was my proof.

Presents under the tree were left for me from "Santa". The wrapping paper I had never seen before. The bows were new! And the handwriting on the gift tag was foreign to me. The man existed. I knew it!

A half century later and I am still convinced he exists. Fifty years have passed.
And in those fifty years I have doubted that God existed. That my life was worthwhile. That my heart would survive the death of yet another. That I would find money for the electric bill. That the cold would subside. That the heat would break. That it would ever rain again. That I would find the answer. That I would ever know peace. And that I would someday, as I did as a child, believe in the miracle of Santa again.

Of all of those doubts that come with being an adult in this world, of all of them, the one I know for a fact to be the truth is that Santa does exist. I just have a gut feeling. And a heart this morning that is bursting with all kinds of emotions. And I've got to believe, that if there weren't a Santa, why would I even feel anything different on this Christmas morning?

Before my feet ever hit the floor, I realized it was Christmas. I transported myself back to the living room on Gothenburg Road. I could feel the coarseness of the worn wool carpet on the floor. The plushness of the used couch fabric. I could smell the coffee and my Dad's cigarette. I could hear the music playing the Tennessee Ernie Ford Christmas album. The draft of cold air coming down the stairs would be fresh on my legs. And I could see the presents.

I now look at the picture of my dear family on Christmas morning a bit differently than I did as a child. Now, I see the strong face of my Father. The weariness in his shoulders. The delight in his eyes. The tiredness of his legs.

Now I see the wishes in my Mother's face as she longs only for one Christmas with her family together and at rest. I see her busy hands that work to keep her mind from wandering. And I see the fruits of her love in her care of us.

I see my Sister in her wisdom as she knows but doesn't tell. She knows of their love for each other and for us. And she knows of their sacrifices and dreams. But she doesn't tell her little sibling. No, she plays along so that I can scream in delight at the new game that Santa had given her.

The smells of the day are fresh in my nostrils. The new snow as we all gather by the door to kiss Dad good-bye. He heads out with his lunchbox and his newly gifted warm work gloves. Out in the dark on this early morning covered in snow. Out in the cold of the Northland. Out away from his family because he loves his family. And will do whatever it takes to provide for them. Even on Christmas morning.

I spend a little time with my family as I lie in bed this morning. I cry for them because I still miss them so. I need the strength of my Father to help me. I need the love of my Mother to console me. And I need the positive outlook of my Sister to push me forward. I miss them. And I long to see them again. Wiping my tears, I head downstairs to awake my own little family on this Christmas morning.

Christmas is full of memories and wishes from the past. But Christmas is full of dreams and hopes and promises of the future, as well.

My inside family greets me as I turn on the lights. Cats looking for morning moist food. Dogs stirring because it is almost time to go outside and play! I pause at the table with my family pictures displayed. "Come with me today", I ask of them. "Stay with me today. On this Christmas morning."

Outside we go and then my outside family greets me. Low nickers of welcome. The crunch of heavy feet on the hard packed snow as they come in for their meal. It seems the same as any other morning. Until I start to sing with the carols on the radio. Unit tips her head a bit more than usual. Spirit stands and watches me. Liz-Beth begins to flap her lower lip a tad. And PONY! stops in his tracks. They can smell the carrots and apples I have prepared. It's Christmas!

They know it is Christmas. They know because they were there on that special morning. In the Christian faith, this Child was born in a barn with cattle and a donkey and camels. The smells of a barn and the feel of fresh bedding. A hay manger for a bed. Surrounded by the innocent animals who do not judge and do not chastise. Creatures who simply accept, forgive, and accept again.

My heart is complex on this Christmas morning. Grief for those lost on one side and contentment for those velvet noses I kiss on the other. Worry for those not rescued and grateful for those under my wings. Big longing for a family still strong in my heart living right next to a big joy for my new family. Why do we Humans have a way of hanging on and not letting go? Why can't we cut the chain of the past that keeps our hearts heavy on this Christmas morning?

It is my truest wish for each of you that on this Christmas morning you find peace in your heart. Peace with where you are, wherever that may be. Where you are this morning and where you are in your life. That you somehow find the promise of Santa somewhere in your world today.

Look for him. He's there. Yes, Santa exists. I know it. How else do you explain the feel of the snow on your face this morning? How else do you explain the warmth of Handsome's breath as it washes over your face? How else do you explain the tiny, little nuzzle of Gracie's nose as you awaken her and guide her to her feed? And how else do you explain the joy in hugging Liz-Beth as she stands there? Accepting and now almost expecting the hug?

As you watch a child unwrap a gift from Santa, how can you deny he exists? As you listen to the Christmas carols and kiss your neighbor under the miseltoe, how can you say there is not a Santa? As you see an entire world pause to reflect on a single story, how can you even think that the jolly old man is only a myth?
He exists. I know it!

I will carry Donald and Violet and Donna with me today. And in their faces, I will see the winks between them and their faces as I exclaim that,
"He was here! Santa was here!" They allowed me to believe. As I child, I believed. And today, I will be a child again. And I will believe in Santa. The absolute miracle of Santa.

Wishing you peace and contentment on this Christmas Morning,
Sandy and The Herd

'Tis the Season!

2010-12-08T05:14:00.043-06:00

This past weekend - the first weekend in December of 2010 - was true to the old Christmas song: 'Tis the Season to be jolly . . .
For me, this past weekend was a blast!

We started the weekend with snow and plenty of it! Of course, it had fallen - and was still falling - for our Christmas Applebee's breakfast! Those of us "old timers" just smile. It seems a part of the tradition to have a blizzard on our Christmas Breakfast morning! The snow and the roads did not stop the volunteers from arriving at 7:30am, donning their Santa hats, and serving up a hot meal to the guests!

Our attendance was a bit smaller than our usual breakfast due to the roads covered in snow, but the spirit of the place was typical of us. There was laughter and joy everywhere!

Our crew on the floor was a mix of "newbies" and "old-timers". Some of the newbies were friends and family of our Sister in Rescue, Shar. These women worked well and with a smile. Willing to bus or serve or do whatever was asked of them, they pitched in for the general cause of rescuing horses. Ya gotta love 'em!

The "old-timers" are called that strictly on an experience level basis - nothing to do with age! We have the Webb family who single-handedly managed all positions on the north side of the restaurant by themselves. This family has been volunteering at Refuge Farms for six years now and it is an honor and a thrill to watch these little children grow into fine, considerate, polite, and contributing adults. Mom - you are doing a fine job of raising them!

Then there are the volunteers who found their way to Menomonie - on those roads! - from South St. Paul and even Maplewood! Snow? Yes, there was snow. "But we just left a little early," was their comment about the drive. The dedication of these people humbles me. What a privilege to be a part of a mission that is supported by such quality Human Beings.

The kitchen crew? Well, that was a gift that was strictly from the heavens! You see, Gen is an experienced restaurant cook! My work entailed introducing Gen to the Applebee's staff person and then just getting out of the way. It was handled, as they say!

And Eric? I don't really know this man too well. Have met him only a few times. But the atmosphere of the man is one of calm and peace and gentleness. He's the kind of person you like to just stand next to. Eric is a keeper, as my Mom would say. And I am thrilled to have him with us on these events.

We served breakfast and then our guests were given the opportunity to shop our bake sale for their sweet tooths or for gift giving. I heard many say that "I can get some of my shopping done here!" The table was filled with homemade treats for us humans, our dogs, and even our horses! Everything from cookies and brownies to pies and breads. From seasoned crackers to Colleen's homemade salsa - which, by the way, is developing a following all on its own!

The "aaahhhhh" of the bake sale was this: pickled beets. And, you ask, what is so special about pickled beets? Well, for starters, not many people have the talent or will take the time to make them anymore. Colleen's Mom made jars of pickled beets for us this year. And they flew off the table! But these pickled beets were very, very special. You see, the beets came from Ole' Man Cole's Sharing Garden. Yes, Cole was with us again this December. An appropriate tribute on his one year crossing, don't you think?

After the dishes were bused back to the kitchen, someone had to wade through the gooey mess and sort the silverware from the plates from the cups from the glasses from the trash. Someone had to rinse and stack and run the trays through the big dishwasher. And someone had to do that all by herself and keep up with the flow! That talent is none other than The Professor! Glad to have you, Tracy!

This particular breakfast was the "kickoff" for the Building Committee, as well. Tom and Julie were there to present the committee, inform people of the committee and its purpose, and to kickoff the raffle. Tom came armed with
pictures of the old barn walls that are literally heading east and south as well as a few shots of a roof that is crumbling into little pieces. And raffle tickets. There is a raffle with the first prize being a quarter of their homegrown, organic beef right off of their farm in Ellsworth. There will be more information about this raffle, but if you want to get a jump on it, just email or call THE FARM and we'll get you tickets. They sell for $5 each or 3 for $10 and all monies raised will go to the Building Fund. The drawing is January 31st - just in time for the Super Bowl!

Who is Tom you ask? He's the dude in the hat . . .

So, the weekend began with a storm and a fundraiser. Good people supporting the missions and good friends to see again right before the busy holiday season gets into full swing. I had a blast! And little did I know it was just the beginning . . .

Sunday morning saw some of us grouping together to head out to another breakfast. Not to work this one. Nope, we attended this one. Supported the cause of the organization hosting the breakfast. We traveled to the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol Barn in Maple Plain, MN and ate breakfast with good friends.

Chris greeted us and insured we had a tour of the facility. The meeting rooms upstairs, the barns (oh, I can dream . . . !) and the arena. Even the Minneapolis Mounted Police Barns were opened to us.

The food was great and we ate! Two helpings for most of us! Larry spent time with us and told us the history of the land acquisition, the building of the barns and the arena, and also the challenges of having such a property "in the city". Great hospitality and great friends. I am pleased and again honored and humbled to made the acquaintance of this group of men and their horses. We are so similar and it is a joy to spend time with such a successful organization.

But the highlight of the day, no . . . the highlight of the season!. . . came when we went into the arena. There in his saddle was Randy. The Refuge Farms rescue horse who made his appearance at The Refuge Farms Fall Gala & Auction in early November. The horse who once was depressed and thin and without a future other than that of death. There stood Randy. And my heart burst!

It was only a matter of minutes later and we were given the opportunity to ride this horse. This little rescue horse who is spoiled rotten now! Who has a tummy sticking out over his cinch strap! And who drooled for the boiled carrots that Pam brought for him! This little horse is what we do. Just like Dude and Laddee and Handsome and Gracie. Randy is what we do.

I'm going to stop talking now and just let the pictures tell the story. But only before I tell you what I told the volunteers that morning:

The next time you get an email asking you to help fold and tape and label 2,000 newsletters. The next time you get an email asking you to help fold and stamp and label 2,000 gala invitations. The next time you are asked to sell Younker's coupon books. Or sell bulbs. Or sell cheesecakes. Or get pledges for The Walk. Or you are asked to work the public hours. Or help clean barns. Or whatever it is that we ask the volunteers to support. The next time you get that email and you may hesitate . . . remember Randy.

As I told the volunteers on Sunday morning, all that work, all those hours, all that time is for this. This horse. And hundreds like him. Your efforts now have a face. And it is the face of this horse. The face of Randy.

Enjoy the pictures and be thrilled that our work and our resources saved this horse's life! This is just one of over 700 horses that we have given an option. A future. A chance.

It is the season of joy and celebration. It is the season that we celebrate a birth. I daresay, that Randy has been reborn and it is Christmas for this horse every single day.

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

Thanks, Tom, for the pictures!

Volunteers Who Volunteered

2010-11-28T10:45:00.031-06:00

My work style tends to be "old fashioned". I went to college in the 1970's before computers and calculators and cell phones. In my classes, the "technology" we were allowed to bring into the classroom was a slide rule and a No. 2 pencil. Not even a mechanical pencil! Period.
No internet access. No laptops or PDA's. Heck, there wasn't an internet to access!

So when I thought about this past week while picking the barns this morning,
I found myself needing to go back to my old fashioned technology. I just now
went to the cupboard and pulled out my dictionary.

Yup, it is a book. A dictionary book. I've had this particular dictionary for years. This hard copy volume with black tabs indented for each letter, gold foiled edges on the pages, and fine quality sheets that feel like silk. This particular book has gone with me to work. It was a mainstay in my office. I took it with me to Oklahoma City when I worked for Andy Durco. And when we began Refuge Farms, I deliberately placed it in the cupboard right next to the desk where all
of the paperwork and computer work for THE FARM is done.

So, this morning I needed to pull out the dictionary. I wanted Old Man Webster's definition of a word. "Volunteer". What does Webster say is a volunteer?

Webster says a volunteer is a noun and comes from the french word "voluntaire". Huh. The primary, or most common, definition is "one who enters into or offers himself for a service of his own free will".

My last step was to research "volunteer" in the other hard copy book I depend upon, the Thesaurus. Many times while writing, I'm searching for a word and cannot find it in my mind. I look up the concept in the thesaurus and eventually,
I'll find exactly the word that applies. Handy tool, this big, heavy book!

The thesaurus tells me that synonyms for "volunteer" are "unpaid helper" and "unpaid assistant". A little more searching in the thesaurus and I find what I'm searching for: a volunteer is one who "freely offers their help". There. That's what I am looking for. A volunteer is someone who freely offers his help with no expectation of payment or recognition. Perfect. Now I can tell you about my week. A week filled with volunteers.

This week saw the first big blast of really cold weather blow in. We had ice, sleet, snow, and winds that would not stop! And we had below zero temperatures. Even without the wind, the thermometer in the barn was below zero late Thursday when I walked my last bed check before retiring for the night.

Throughout the week, I pretty much just stayed focused on cleaning barns, insuring tanks were heated well and topped off, moving small square bales of hay to the big barn, feeding, blanketing horses and then re-blanketing during the night or at the point when the fronts came barreling in. Once the four wheelbarrows that can hold manure were filled to the brims, I had to leave the barn floors alone. It wasn't pretty, but I decided not to start the skid loader for just those four wheelbarrows. Not with the current prices of diesel fuel!

So by Saturday morning, I had four plump full - and now frozen solid! - wheelbarrows of manure and barns that looked more like manure piles than barns! Rosalie called and volunteered - freely offered her help - to clean barns with me.
I warned her how bad it was but she arrived regardless! And, bless her heart, we raked and picked and pried and worked. Six - yes, six! - skid loader buckets later, the barns were spotless and the tanks were topped off once again. Order was restored. Thanks to Rosalie. A volunteer who volunteered.

Earlier in the week, I discovered another gift from a volunteer. I've shared with Pam my technique that I used when I drove semi. The technique was for staying awake and alert while driving. What was this technique? I ate. Yup. M&M peanuts. By the bag. The crunching and eating and motion of my arm to search for just the right one in that bag of candy kept me awake. So, as I told Pam, I use the technique today. When I am returning from a rescue, I am usually cold and tired and somewhere far from home. I have horses in the trailer that are going to need to be sequestered and settled in for the night but first, I have to cover miles to get home.

The heater begins to heat my frozen feet and hands, the snow begins to melt,
and I begin to settle into the seat. I am a bit relieved and relaxed because those frozen little creatures that no one cared for were now in the trailer and I knew their lives would be better from now on. Relief tends to flow over me in waves. And the tears come. It would be so easy just to close my eyes. To rest. But I must drive. And that's when I use my old technique. I eat. Never thinking of calories,
I know that eating will keep me awake and so I eat.

Well, Pam knows this, and so early this fall she left a bag for me. A bag that she said should last me a "rescue or two". I stumbled on this bag again this week as I was moving things in the living room. It wasn't the bag (or the M&M's inside!) that caused me to pause. And smile. But it was the note that I taped to the wall that gave my heart a song to sing. Pam's note simply said:

"For rescue work only!
For outer strength.
And my prayer for your inner strength!"

Pam had listened. And she had volunteered her support in a way that only she can do. I will stay awake. Thanks to Pam. A volunteer who volunteered.

And then Friday, I came home from work long after the sunset. It was still raw outside and I was concerned about little Gracie out in the wind and PONY! and Appaloosa Mare and Blaise. These fragile ones get so cold so quickly and it takes so long to warm them up again. I needed to get changed and out to the barns quickly.

Dropping my armful on the kitchen island, my focus was on changing clothes, getting my boots and jacket on, grabbing the dogs, and heading out to the barns.
I looked for an empty spot on the island and then I saw a note. And I stopped and read the note. My smile and my heart told me to pause and appreciate this person.

Colleen had been to THE FARM on Friday. She had driven out with a car full of cardboard for my wood stove fires and pet carriers of all sizes. The purpose for the carriers was to attempt to catch the two feral kittens living in the hay in the old barn. We had been talking and really wanted to capture these two before they became too old to "humanize" and we also wanted to see if there were only two! Last year we had captured two and a few days later, out came their little brother. Cold and hungry and easy to catch with just a little food.

So, Colleen came armed with carriers and cat food and she spent the morning trying to coax the two little ones into a carrier. No such luck. The mama cat must still be coming around because they were interested in the food but not desperate. So, Colleen left all of her goodies for the cats and stopped at the antique store on her way home to update me on the morning's efforts.

Into the store she walked. Arms full of lunch from Culver's. Bless her heart. She knows me well. We sat and ate and talked and every once in a while, I waited on a customer. Traffic was slow and so it gave us some time to catch up and strategize on how to catch these two little kittens.

She left to go home and I thought nothing more of her visit until I walked into the kitchen. Then I saw a box on the island with this note from Colleen lying on top of the box:

"Hey!

My only Black Friday shopping was for a Refuge Farms donation. Here's a Back-Up Drive for the computer!

It's 1500 GB - mine is just 250 GB and I have lots of room! But this way you should easily have plenty of room! If you fill this, I think your computer would explode! Hee-hee!

Enjoy!"

Bless her huge heart. This is something that we need but the money never seems to materialize. And so we continue to play the odds. And Colleen knows the risk of losing our files. She knows how I back up to multiple CD's to insure that all would not be lost. And she knows the age and fragility of the computer we run Refuge Farms upon. She knows it is just a matter of time before THE computer failure will happen. And so she fixed it.

And because of her big heart, I will spend this evening opening the sizable "Seagate FreeAgent Desk External Drive" box and reading installation instructions. Then I will proceed to setup the backup procedure to automatically create a backup every Sunday evening at 11pm. And one of those nagging little things that needs to be done will be erased from the back of my mind. Backups will be completed. Thanks to Colleen. A volunteer who volunteered.

And so as I reflect on this week, I remember the cold. The Thanksgiving holiday. The prayers I prayed for those standing in the cold with no shelter, no blanket, and no food in their stomachs to keep them warm. And I think of the volunteers.

I think of Rosalie and her freely giving of her time and her energy. I think of Pam and her freely giving of her support and her knowing how I will need to stay awake. And I think of Colleen and her wisdom. And her effort needed to rise so early and fight those crowds to help Refuge Farms avoid a crisis.

Today I say an extra prayer of thanksgiving. For the volunteers. Those who "freely offer their help". There are many volunteers. And each one with each talent and skill is needed to keep this organization humming. So to each of you - whether you be a "formal" volunteer or someone in the wings or somewhere in between. Whether you be a newbie or an "old-timer" with THE FARM or somewhere in between. Whether you be a horse person or not. Thank you. Thank you for freely offering your help. I and the horses are grateful. And I work hard every single day to be worthy of your support.

May you reap the rewards of your giving. May you know the peace of sharing. And may you be rewarded in this world - and the next - for the kindness of your hearts.

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

The Tale of Two Labs

2010-11-22T05:50:00.024-06:00

On October 3rd I was not opening emails unless it dealt with The Gala or appeared as though a horse's life was hanging on it. Except if I heard from Karen. I always opened her emails.

It was early on the morning of October 3rd. And Karen, a Sister in Rescue, had sent out an email about two dogs that she was most concerned about. This woman, for those of you who knew Keller, was the woman who made it possible for Keller to survive long enough to make it here. She works diligently for the dogs in her depressed area of the world.

This is what Karen's email said to me that morning:

Dear Friends:

Every day at the August clinic in Redby there were two labs standing outside the fence. These labs were hungry and very scared. Our compassionate volunteers put food out as the labs inched their way from outside the fence into the fence of the warehouse. Everyone was hoping we could catch them, but it never happened. You could get so close to them, then they would back away.

Well, the clinic ended and all the volunteers went their own way, many since have emailed and inquired about the two labs. On several occasions I dumped a bag of dog food at the warehouse, and only saw the two labs two times.

One day I made a visit to John and Elaine L., two familiar faces at the clinic as they have 3 small dogs. They are a retired couple who live near the drive–in restaurant in Redby who love animals. While we visited they told me of two black labs they had been feeding. I was so happy.

Yesterday I visited and left another bag of dog food. There I met the two labs. They love John and Elaine. They follow John wherever he goes. They could hold them, pet them, and they never leave the yard. The dogs get along with the cats and the small dogs too. They are loyal and soft spirited. John and Elaine say they would like to keep them, however, they cannot and are asking that someone take them at the next clinic. John said, ”They love each other and they have to go together”. I assured him we would try and find a place where they could be together. They need to be vetted too.

Does anyone have any ideas about a rescue that might take the dogs when the clinic ends on October 16th? Their transformation is remarkable. It is so great to know that these 2 homeless dogs won’t have to suffer through the winter looking for food. This story has made my day and hope it makes yours too!

Sincerely,
Karen

As I read the story of these two dogs, I found my eyes overflowing. What was it about this email that touched me more than all of the others that have come to this desk? Why these two dogs and not any of the others?

It was simple. At least in my heart. You see, I left out a part of Karen's email. The part that grabbed my heart and would not let go. The part that explained that the names of these two dogs were "Lady" and "Man".

Oh, my. How could I not respond? How could I let these two go by when their names brought memories of big brown eyes and the wagging tail of Little Man? And the love and endurance and comic behaviors of Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare? How could I not reach out to these two unwanted creatures? Little creatures with the names of "Lady" and "Man"?

I sat for only seconds before I wrote back to Karen and said:

Karen -

Hoping this finds you well. It has been a while since Keller has crossed but this year, his grave manifested him in lilies and alliums and an entire assortment of flowers. His companion, Babee IV, the cat with kidney disease, has also since crossed and, as I promised them both, she is buried right on top of him. Her adoration is a yellow peony plant. It will take 2 - 3 years before the plant blooms, but such was their relationship. It took a while to develop, but once it did, they two were beautiful together.

These two labs - Refuge Farms would be willing to adopt the two of them since we are now "dogless". However, we would need to have them neutered and current on vac's, if at all possible. The world of horse rescue is as bad as I've ever seen it. The need for our services is skyrocketing and the donations are declining. Preaching to the choir, aren't I?

So, if it works out that you have no other options for these two, we will give them a forever home. We will keep them together and they will be showered with tons of love and care.

I'll wait to hear from you. Thanks, Karen.

And keep your eye on the animals.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,

Not seconds later, Karen shot back a group email that said:

Hi all:

Boy - God is good!! After our two labs stories were put on the email, Sandra Gilbert of Refuge Farms in Wisconsin sent us an email and wishes to adopt THEM BOTH!!! She previously adopted a dog, Keller, german shep from RLRR that had been poisoned and gave the blind dog 6 months of love and care.

The rest is history, as they say. Lady and Man appeared during the week thanks to the loving transport (and hundred of miles driven!) of Kristin R. and her Mom. The two dogs were larger than I had anticipated and much calmer than I had ever dreamed!
I had the box stall ready for them - shavings, water, blankets. I was expecting street dogs. But what appeared were loving, sensitive animals who respected humans and wanted nothing but love and the absence of hollering and hitting. So the very first night they came into the house and found kennels with blankets and big bones waiting for them.

And it has been smooth sailing ever since. No accidents in the house at all. Man, the big "Bruiser" as I call him, will howl if he or his little sister need to go outside before I take them. Lady, the little girl, is a spitfire and ready to run into the pastures the second I am not looking. Not to chase the horses any more but to find the choice frozen clump of manure to bring back to her brother so they can dine together!

We have overcome the panic that sets in when they cannot eat the manure of the other. At first, I was totally unprepared for this behavior but soon figured that they had needed to survive and so they fed off of each other. But now, they know there is food twice a day and they no longer need to rely on each other for nutrition. That panic is gone.

The grass eating is significantly diminished, too. But not the horse manure yet. That will take time. I've been here before with Lady, the Dog. It does no good to fight it. When they've had enough, they'll stop. And I cannot convince them to stop before they reach that point. Really simple. Just don't let them kiss you. Not yet, anyhow.

They seem very healthy and Man weighed in at 96 pounds when he arrived. He is over one hundred by now. He is stocky and strong and appears wise. Almost old in his eyes. I can see where he was the defender and the "big brother" of the two. He had to do the protecting and the guarding. He was the adult to allow his little sister to be the puppy.

And Lady is just that. She is a handful of love and energy. And fear. Something about children has her running away from them. But that, too, will change in time. She will learn that the children here will not hurt her. She will learn to trust children again.

And the little girl has been hurt. She shows enormous gestures of submission and fear if I should holler or reach for her collar. It is at this point that Man steps in and just works his way between us. He is The Protector. Still.

And play!! These two rough-house and play with each other just as puppies should. And don't think for a moment that just because Man outweighs Lady by fifty pounds that he has the upper hand. No way! Lady is quick and agile and she often shows him just how good a wrestler she is! And as I watch them, I think of how he perhaps is allowing her to win. The big brother, even in their playfulness.

So, there are two new kids on THE FARM. A little girl named Lady. A little girl with history and bruises on her soul. A little girl who will heal and become relaxed and playful as she learns of the love that grows here. Just like the other Laddee. And a little boy named Man. With deep eyes and the tale of burden on his shoulders. A dog who has had to grow up well before his time but who holds no grudge toward anyone. Just wanting his back scratched, please. Just like the other Little Man.
It is a good thing we did here. These two do need to stay together. John was very right when he made that stipulation. These two are joined at the hip, most surely. And by the way, John and Elaine, you did marvelous work with these dogs! They are great companions and fantastic house dogs! Never, ever could you tell that these two lived on the streets! Not once would you guess that as you would now see them in their kennels with their big bones and overturned bowls and bunched up blankets. Nah . . . not these two little puppies!

So now once again, trips to the barn are me and the dogs. Dogs who came here because of their names. Lady and Man. Oh, how sweet it is to call to them! I call loudly and clearly as I say their names! I call to the sky and these two little creatures appear. I call to their namesakes and here they come . . .

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

A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words

2010-11-12T19:33:00.004-06:00

They say a picture speaks a thousand words. Well, this picture speaks a million words!

There will be blogs to talk about The Gala. Yes, we will talk about the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol, the horse presentations, the auction, the tours. We will talk about it all. But for now, just let this picture tell you what it is that we do here at Refuge Farms. Remember the surprise and the delight at the sight that paraded into the arena that night. And once again, I am so proud to say:

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Wanda and her horse, Dudely!

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

It's Refuge Farms Gala Time ! ! !

2010-10-19T07:43:00.049-05:00

Preparations are in full swing. As in any major effort, there are lists of tasks to be completed and decisions to be made. There are lists on the desk. Lists on the bathroom mirror. Lists on the kitchen door. Lists in the truck. Lists in my wallet. And lists, lists, lists in my head! Whoever invented these sticky note papers is an angel, on one hand, because with those sticky pieces of paper I am able to keep my tasks in front of my face all day long. Like I said, this person is an angel on one hand. On the other hand . . . ?

This year's Gala is a very special Gala. It is our Tenth Anniversary Celebration. Mike Murach, a long-time Friend of THE FARM, has gifted us with his artwork again this year. In year's past, Mike has created originals of Miss April, Big Guy, and last year an enormous painting of Handsome. This year, Mike listened to me as I spoke of this journey of ten years. He watched me as I recalled the ups and downs. The highs and the lows. And out of that conversation and his brilliantly talented mind, came the anniversary logo which is called, "Out of the Shadows".

It is a wonderful piece of art that tells the story of rescue. The nearly dead horse on the ground complete with swollen and overgrown feet, pressure sores from having to lie on the ground, no mane or tail left to speak of, bones visible everywhere, and head just hanging. Mike listened well and created a portrait of a horse that had been starved, left behind, neglected, and abused. A horse just waiting . . .

Then, do you see the faint sunrise on the horizon? Do you see the swell of hope Mike created in that sunrise?

Above the sunrise is Mike's image of the rescued horse with its tail blowing in the wind, its head high in the air, a full and healthy body, and strong legs and feet! Do you see the rise from near death to being alive? Even in Mike's choice of colors he portrays the act of rescue.

And, true to his form, Mike has donated print #1 of 1 of this piece to be auctioned at The Gala. There will only be one print made of this artwork. Only one. And it will sell the night of our Gala. As with the other prints Mike has created for us, we will never print the canvas again. "The file is closed", as Mike says.

Our invitations, our posters, our RSVP's, and even our tickets are graced with this logo. For this coming year, our letterhead and our business cards will also flaunt this logo in addition to our original logo. That original logo was, by the way, also created by Mike Murach from a favorite pictureof mine. DukeDuke and Jimmer enjoying the sun on a crisp fall day from the doorway of the Old Barn. So you see, there is history here between Mike and Refuge Farms. And history, my friends, is a good thing.

The Gala evening will be one filled with horses! Refuge Farms is bring seven of The Sanctuary Herd with us for the event. We are bringing . . .

And yes . . .

. . . even Little Gracie.

Throughout the evening, select horses will be brought out of the corral area and into a smaller corral right on the floor of the event. (Wait until you see who is leading the horses! Surprise!) There we will tell the story of that horse - its past, its recovery, and its contribution to our Missions. I'm eager to see the faces of our guests as they realize just how huge Handsome is as he walks by them! And to hear the sounds of adoration as little Gracie walks amongst them! It will be a grand evening of horse stories and hands on. I really can hardly wait!

As you hear the horse stories and browse the silent auction tables, you will be served complimentary appetizers and a bar will be available for complimentary beers and wines. This is the time to catch up with old friends and to make new friends. I find this part of the evening almost like a holiday. You connect with people who share your passion for horses and the rescue of them. It is a very comfortable feeling in that big arena to be surrounded by those who are like yourself. It's like have a family that is two hundred strong!

Unless there is a medical emergency, the University of Minnesota has agreed to again lead tours through the medical center. I remember watching people last year return from a tour only to turn and get in line to go on the very next tour. This is quite a facility and if you have never been there, you will be amazed at the talent and the technology available to us! We are certainly fortunate to be so close to the U of M Equine Center. Our horses are very fortunate, indeed.

Our silent auction begins when the doors open at 6pm. Grand items to auction this year! We have a tenor wind chime that I honestly can barely lift! It is enormous and gives a sound like a pipe organ. We have beauty baskets and food baskets of all kinds. We have a night at the movies and even a trip to New York - complete with a two night stay at a famous Central Park hotel and tickets to The Oz and the famous bus tour of The City! There are wines to select from and oh yes, we must not forget the exotic beers! Of course, there are chocolates and coffees. Dog beds and cat beds. A new complete saddle and even a custom 5' x 8' area rug! baskets from Door County and Wisconsin. Horse themed baskets and baskets of home appliances. Sherri has donated a glass vase on which she has etched an image of a horse running in the wind. An awesome piece. There are sterling silver necklaces and artwork. Some of the best photographers are submitting some of their best artwork. Truly, this is our best silent auction yet!

At 7:30pm, our friends from the Zuhrah Shrine Horse Patrol will assemble us for dinner and a presentation of the flag. I am honored to have these talented men among us and, in their support of us, they are bringing their horses in full dress to gather us for dinner. These horses are precision horses and their riders are adorned in full costume. It is quite a site! If you have never witnessed the flag presentation by the Zuhrah's, then you won't want to miss it, for sure!!! Thank you, gentlemen!

Dinner will be excellent! White linen tablecloths, linen napkins, butter pats in the shape of little leaves, and primo service! Your entree is a choice of pecan Crusted Walleye, a Chateau Cut Top Sirloin Steak, or a Vegetarian Portobello Stuffed Mushroom. You will be given time to eat and chat with your table and then I will speak with you about "The First Ten Years." My message will focus on our Missions and two examples of what it is that we do: Dude and Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare. The rescue horse and the sanctuary horse. They tell you what we do.

And what have we done in ten years? How many tons of manure have been picked and wheelbarrowed out of the big barn? How many pounds of hay have been consumed by the horses? How many human beings have walked down the gravel driveway at THE FARM? And how many lives have been rescued? I'll be sure to tell you, that's for sure.

Rest assured, I'm working on my message to be concise, but know my heart is full. It has been a journey of ten years. Hundreds of people. And hundreds of lives. And yes, in my message to you there will be surprises! I would love to share them - or even a hint of them! - with you, but I cannot. A surprise is a surprise, after all!
But I guarantee you, you will nod your understanding and clap with joy and celebration!

At the close of my message we will play a video that has been carefully constructed to reflect our work of these past ten years. Carefully constructed from hundreds and hundreds of photos. Presented to songs selected especially for this video. Songs that tell the stories right along with the photos. There is a feeling of satisfaction, grief, and joy as I preview the video each day. Ten years is a short time and yet, ten years can be a very long time. When you see the video, you
will understand.

After dinner, there will be time for socializing and a few more horses to pet. The silent auction will close and we will hug for another year. And then next year, when we gather again, we will talk about the new numbers, the new challenges, and the new successes. We will gather again among people of like hearts and be grateful.

The Refuge Farms Fall Gala & Auction is meant to be a celebration. A celebration of rescuing those who otherwise would have been left to die. And it is that, yes. But it is also becoming a family reunion. It is fitting, don't you think, that in a horse arena transformed to a banquet hall we gather to talk, to pet some horses, to eat, and to support one another.

Please join us. Ticket information may be found on our homepage - just look for this poster! We are a humble group of volunteers who believe in the sanctity of life. That working to save a life is a good and worthy effort. That each life is valuable and sacred. And that horses are somehow teachers to us humans. Teachers of patience and forgiveness and tolerance and trust. Teachers of order and respect and pure joy.

Join us, won't you? Meet some of our teachers. The volunteers who work hard all year long. Eat dinner with us! And be surprised at some of the things we have up our sleeves!!!

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

SherriStudio at Catfish Corner

2010-10-03T08:31:00.024-05:00

Sherri from "SherriStudio at Catfish Corner" is a talented artist. Her work with glass is breathtaking. Creative and unique are words that come to mind as I key my impression of her talents. Sherri is also a horse lover and owner. And, to put the final frosting on this cake, Sherri is a follower of Parelli and the Natural Way with horses. So, to say the least, we hit it off and have horses and our styles in working with them in common. The artist part? Well, we all know that's not anything we have
remotely in common!

Sherri continues to work for Refuge Farms from her art studio. Emailing me messages of support and understanding. And, during the spring and fall art tour events, hosting some sort of fundraiser for Refuge Farms. She works to support
us and to spread the word.

Her website homepage, www.sherristudio.blogspot.com, has a picture of
Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare and the following words:

"Click here to get Sandy's Blog and read about Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare. Sandy Gilbert's mission is to heal and rehabilitate aged and abused horses and find homes for adoptable equine friends."

This fall's Fresh Art Tour is in its final end of a three day tour today. But here
is her Saturday, October 2nd, blog posting that I found late last night as I came
in from working outside tasks all day:

"In conjunction with the Fresh Art Tour I have donated the (10" x 13" panel)
Irish Claddagh (Heart in Hands) to benefit the works of Sandra Gilbert, a cause close to my heart, Refuge Farms in Spring Valley, Wisconsin. I love that it's possible for art to benefit horses! It's on display at the studio and I already
have entries from visitors who were in the studio yesterday.

The bad photo is reflecting from the sunny window,
but trust me, it's beautiful!

Tickets to enter are $1 each--you may enter as many times as you wish! 100% of the entries goes to Refuge Farm so it's a winner either way.

Plus, it's easy with the "Donate" button which sends
the money directly to Refuge Farm! One entry will
be submitted per dollar--and you will receive an email back so you know what your numbers are.

Entries will be accepted until NOON Monday since I was late getting this up."

My heart smiles when I see and read of such supportive souls out there. Helping us to save just one more life. On days when I think the job is bigger than Refuge Farms. On days when I think that maybe, after all these years of working so hard, we really aren't making even a small dent out there. On days when I'm tempted to relax and just leave it to someone else. On those days, these kinds of gestures are extended and I find my lungs filled with new, fresh air again.

Thank you, Sherri. Thank you for keeping us in your heart. And for the work your hands do on behalf of us. I'm hopeful that this blog will reap rewards for not only our Missions, but a reward to you for your efforts! Hopefully, your raffle will exceed your expectations!

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

THE RESULTS!!

Monday, October 4, 2010
Raffle and Free Drawing Winners

Thanks to everyone who entered our drawing and the Refuge Farms raffle!

We had such a hugely successful weekend at the Fresh Art Tour--hundreds of visitors came to Catfish Corner! I had a drawing for a green and gold mission stained glass panel and also held a raffle for a celtic design bevel cluster. The Hon. Don P. Anderson was assigned the duty of drawing the winning tickets and has at this time completed the selection.

The Refuge Farms Raffle - Celtic Bevel winner is: Gretchen Wilson from Wabasha, Minnesota!

The Mission Panel in green and gold was won by Joanie Pfeiffer, all the way from Omaha, Nebraska!

I hope to get photos of our lucky folks with their glass panels and will share them soon.

Congratulations Gretchen and Joanie!

And thanks to you, Sherri!
Sandy and A Still Grateful Herd

A Week of Good Things

2010-09-19T08:40:00.020-05:00

It seems like years ago that a weak, dehydrated, blue eye'd stallion managed to roll out of the trailer and lay in the grass of the yard. He was so weak that I honestly thought we were bringing him home to euthanize him. I could not leave him behind to suffocate and so we loaded him and brought him back to Refuge Farms. THIS was a dier. And he would soon be gone.

One thing that I overlooked was the will of this horse. He wanted to live. And he did live. It was a long journey for Dude, as we called him. His starvation took him months to overcome. And then, just when it appeared that he was recovered from the worst of the starvation and healed from the gelding surgery, this beautiful horse showed us his true injury - a broken jaw.

Surgery was the only option and so we invested our resources and our efforts to save his life once again. Never once has he shown us that our decision was a mistake. On the contrary. This horse was a gentleman at all times and a pleasure in the barns. He was grateful and obedient. When called to eat, he would stand quietly at his assigned place awaiting the halter and his bucket. Unlike the others who played around and wandered everywhere, Dudely was grateful. Almost reverent to his food.

It has been a full eighteen months since we found this half dead stallion. And this past week, I carried Dudely in the trailer to his new, forever home. A bitter sweet event since we had all grown to love him so. But his attachment to his new owner is already showing me that he belongs with Wanda. And Wanda? Well, she just says,
"He is a magic horse, Sandy!"

It was a cold, rainy day when I traveled to eastern Wisconsin. Dude was accompanied by the Clyde Mare whom Wanda will work to restore to a healthier state over the winter. Clyde Mare instantly fell in love with this handsome specimen of a horse. Heck, if I was a horse I would fall in love with him, too! Those eyes! How could you ever get past those eyes?

Wanda was ready. A new shelter had been built and the bucket holders and eye bolts were ready. The fence was up and tested. The water barrels were ready. The pasture had been mowed and cleared of anything that may cause a problem. Feed was in the feed barrels. Wanda would not unload the horses until she had walked the pastures and reviewed the setup with me. Did it meet with my approval?

As I looked at the fence line, I commented that it was thoughtful of her to mark the fence so the hunters would see the lines. "Hunters?" she asked. "That's not for the hunters. They're on their own. That's for the horses so they can easily see the lines!" I knew I had made the right decision right then and there.

Dudely has a good, good home. Wanda has loved this horse for quite some time. You see, on the second day that Dude was here, when he still was down more than he was up, Wanda appeared in the driveway. On that very day, Wanda fell in love with Dude. The skinny, dehydrated, cautious stallion who was so weak he could barely stand. Over the months, Wanda has continued to visit Dudely and finally, the stage was set. It was time. It was time for Wanda to adopt Dude.

Now, it's not like I sat quietly to wait for Wanda. No, I advertised Dude on the website and he appeared in multiple newsletters asking for an adoptive home. But as I tell Wanda now, it was meant that he go to live with her. Because no one - not one person - stepped up to ask about this horse. It was The Master Plan at its best, I believe, that Dudely would go to live with Wanda. And the smile on her face proves me right, doesn't it?

After what seemed like weeks of overcast and cold, rainy days the sun appeared. The warmth could be felt on our shoulders and all of our spirits lifted. The sun was back! What a beautiful day it was! And made even more so by the presence of some very special people in these very special barns.

Saturday was the End of Summer Celebration hosted by the Refuge Farms Garden Club. A special thanks needs to go out to Colleen B. and Pam W. of the Garden Club for their work and diligence in preparing the meal. They whipped up tables, found table cloths, found spoons, pots to boil the corn in, and Pam found the most delicious corn I have ever tasted. Bravo, Ladies! Job well done!

Me? Well I left the cooking to those most able and headed out to the barns to hook and feed. I was accompanied by Tom and Julie, Anne and Roger, Nancy and her friends from way up in Coon Rapids, MN. Betty was here (with her brownies!!), and Sarah brought Adria, Austin, and little five month old Avery. She also brought Jared (as in Country Jam Jared) and his family - wife Missy carrying unborn baby. Sarah grandparents, Jack and Pat, were here, too. Rosalie arrived and Jim was here. Bridget joined us and I was feeling so blessed. So many good, good people here to share in the admiration and love of these horses.

We ate a delicious meal and then off to the barns to socialize with the horses. Some were de-burr'd. Others were brushed. All that could have treats had carrots freshly pulled out of Cole's Sharing Garden - greens and all! Jared spent some time with Sandy and must have brushed a bucket full of hair off that mare. What a transformation we are seeing in that horse. From a little bull in a china shop to a quiet, loving horse. I told her just this morning that she was becoming a star . . .

It was a wonderful day. Great stories. Good camaraderie. Lots of horse touching. And tons of horse hair on us. And the sunshine. Tell me, if you would, just how does it get any better than this?

Throughout the day, I tried to remember in my mind some of the words and phrases I heard throughout the day. I wanted to pass them on to you so you, too, could feel the impact these horses have on those who care for them. These are not just horses to us. These are our friends. Our trusted pals. We love and care for them. And work hard for them.

I heard words like "life changing experience", "found that focus again", "just love those horses", "find peace here", "I will never be the same", "there was a purpose to it all", "Beauty looked at me and that was it", "Refuge Farms came up on an internet search", "she loves horses and especially that Ole' Cole". My heart was bursting with appreciation for what these people were saying. I knew of their hearts for I, too, have found the peace of these barns and I, too, will never be the same after knowing them. I felt a true purpose while listening to each of you. A good solid purpose with rewards beyond measurement!

It was a grand day! Thank you for spending your beautiful Saturday afternoon at THE FARM. I so enjoyed each and every one of you! But more than that, I enjoyed watching you as you enjoyed them. THIS is why we are here. To rescue these diers and then to offer them to you so that you may find them, too.

Neither one of them were far from us yesterday. Little Adria brought a picture of she and Cole eating apples together that we placed on his grave. And Laddee's halter and picture were adorning her as well. Both of these horses brought their energy to us yesterday and blessed us with their spirits: Cole gave us the humor and the spunk of the day and Laddee gave us the hugs and the love of the day.

Like the sign says, we gathered because of Laddee. Once more this summer we needed to meet and share our stories of her. And then because of Cole and his Sharing Garden, we ate. Two of the greatest of all the Horse Ministers still helping us to care for one another. And for them.

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

End of Summer Celebration

2010-09-12T07:34:00.006-05:00

Sometime in the last two weeks, it seems like a month has gone by. Just days (weeks) ago I was complaining about the heat and rain and saying, “Well, I’m not ready for winter, but I am ready for fall.”

After complaining more than once on the heat - 90 and humid - I saw areas of the nation with 100 degrees and more in heat index, and I thought, “Stop complaining, we are lucky!"

After complaining more than once about the rain, I watched the devastating news of the Pakistan floods, and I thought, “Stop complaining and start being grateful, we are really, really lucky!"

Well, it’s fall now to be sure. In all, we have had a good summer, and have much to be thankful for and to celebrate. And so The Gardening Club would like to invite you to our “End of Summer Celebration"!

This spring we planted Cole’s Sharing Garden and it has done quite well for a first-time attempt. Our peas didn’t fare too well, but the beans and radishes did okay, the onions, carrots, and beets took off great, and the corn beat the odds after being flattened during a thunderstorm. It came back and continued to grow, and now we have corn-on-the-cob to look forward to!

This celebration will be held Saturday, September 18th from 12 noon to 3 pm at THE FARM. We will cook up the corn until we either run out of corn or people to feed, whichever comes first!

Everyone is welcome! Bring drinks and a dish to pass if you would like, and lawn chairs, too. If it rains, we will all lounge out in the barn! Perhaps we’ll lounge out there anyway, as that is where all the quality personalities are!

We’ll talk of Old Man Cole and his love of apples, carrots, and beets. We’ll remember Princess Laddee with a tear or two, and pay our respects to her (she is resting very near Cole, you know).

We’ll talk about plans for the upcoming Fall Gala, and think up ideas for new desserts to bring to the Applebee’s breakfast.

And we’ll thank each other, for all the hard work we see that we do for THE FARM. Then we can end the day by brushing the horses and spending time with them. Sounds like the perfect fall afternoon – we are hoping to see you there!

Colleen B.
Refuge Farms Volunteer

A Bed of Roses

2010-08-29T08:19:00.001-05:00

Note: Last Sunday, this blog was created to tell you of Laddee's crossing. But then the letter from Dr. Anne was received. And her words touched me so deeply that I replaced my original blog with Dr. Anne's message. So this, my friends, is my original blog. There are things in this blog I feel you must know. So please bear with me as I speak to you of Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare just one more time . . .

Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare fulfilled her destiny during the pre-dawn hours of Friday, August 20th. Laddee allowed her spirit to move on and left her body to die. And she did this in her own way.

Without any of those who loved her surrounding her, in the quiet of the night, Laddee crossed when no one was there to sing to her. No one was there to plead with her to stay. A technician was with her to insure her airway was open but those who had supported her and sustained her in these past months were not there with her. Laddee crossed when no one was there to try to save her. Laddee crossed in her own way.

The day was spent sitting with her and telling the stories of her. Laughing at how she would drag me around. Laughing at how she refused to cooperate those first few months. Sad that her anger and striking had been necessary behaviors she had needed to learn in order to survive. And then laughing once again at how spoiled and demanding of love she had become. How she had truly and completely become "The Princess". Laddee helped us heal the wound of her loss by giving us stories of her to tell. She healed us, that mare, in her own way.

When everyone was busy with the business of the day, I spent quiet time with her. I uncovered her and cleaned her. I wiped her with damp towels and brushed every inch of her that I could reach. I washed her face and cleaned her mouth and her ears. I removed the tape from her neck and used a fresh towel to close her airway. I prepared her for her journey as best I could. Singing to her and doing my best to be strong for her.

When her body was prepared, I stood by her and looked at her. So peaceful. So shiny. So blonde and soft coated. So majestic and proud. So dignified and so very beautiful. It was then that I realized that her radio was not on. So I turned on her fan and her radio. The silence from the radio made me think that I needed to adjust the tuning but then . . . the guitar chords of a song began. A song I did not recognize. A country song by a "Band Perry". So I stood by M'Laddee and listened to the words . . .

If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my color
Go with peace and love and gather up your tears
Keep 'em in your pocket and save them for a time
When you're really gonna need them

The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I've had just enough time

Standing in that stall with her, I felt her presence and her closeness to me stronger than I had ever felt them before. Those words, of all words, were magically flowing over the airwaves as I stood looking at her. Those words were meant for her. My heart burst with the love of her and the joy of hearing her words.

As the song concluded, I covered this little mare with cloth and thanked her for being in our lives. I thanked her for showing us the depth of her transformation and the sheer power of her love. And I thanked her for enduring the pain and horrendous suffering that was needed to get her to these barns. I thanked her for giving me her tender heart and I smiled as I remembered the walk we had taken just the day before . . . .

Laddee and I had headed to the back fields as we always did. The fields where there were trees and garden plots and geese and grasses of all kinds and even more places to find fresh, sweet weeds. But on this particular Thursday morning, M'Laddee wanted to stretch her legs. We traveled farther than we had ever traveled before! Well beyond the normal paths, we went farther than the weather station! Beyond the corn fields and into the soy beans.

In one area, we found a freshly plowed field and she loved it! She dug her feet in and we flew across that field. She put her nose into the earth and smelled it deeply. Her now dirty head went up into the breeze! You could see she was remembering the smell of freshly plowed fields. It was then that I knew she had been a plow horse somewhere in her lifetime. You could see the recognition in her face.

We found a corn stalk with a freshly ripened ear of corn to pick. Laddee loved the taste of that stolen ear of corn and then back on our journey we went! Over to new fields where there was sand to tread on. More smelling and then onward again. What a journey we had that day! Farther and longer than we had ever walked before. I was exhilarated by her energy and promised to take her back to these new places again on our next walk.

Fresh tears came as I realized we would never walk those fields again. She would never nudge us to say, "Ahem. You are standing there and I am standing here so use your hands, please, to touch me." She would never enjoy the lovingly prepared apples and pears and peaches with her food. And she would never again feel the loving touch of her healer, Dr. Anne.

Oh, Laddee, we cry for you! We love you so and are so proud of you! So encouraged by your strength and your stamina! So unprepared to have you leave us so suddenly and unexpectedly. So unprepared for the complete emptiness now here without you.

Last night, a new tradition was begun here at Refuge Farms. A new tradition to help us all heal after the loss of one of our own. A tradition of healing.

We gathered yesterday afternoon and spent time with the living ones. We fed them and brushed them and played with them. And, of course, fed them treats. Then we turned them out for the nighttime of picking the fresh grass. And we watched as they rolled and ate and moved as a herd. We marveled at their beauty and grace. And we talked of Laddee.

Stories of her flew out of all of us. We shared our awe of her and told our fondest memories. We talked of her and we did this as we ate. We ate dinner together while talking of her. One said, "This is what it is all about. The love. Sharing the love." And so, Laddee, you've continued teaching us, even in your crossing. You've taught us how to grieve. To share the sorrow and the stories with each other at a Memory Meal. And in that sharing, to begin to heal. You have taught us yet another lesson, M'Laddee. In your own way.

I could write volumes of the stories and the teachings of this thrown away horse. But today, I must just say that she is crossed. Her mane is flowing and her eyes can see. She is with her beloved Jack but will wait for her Handsome, as well. She is whole again. And there is no longer a need for her to be a warrior. Laddee can now relax. Finally. And simply be Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare.

We buried Laddee right next to Frances Andrew and next to him for a reason. You see, I know that this little mare will change us. I instinctively knew that a year ago but I did not see the changes nor do I yet see the full impact of her presence. I know she will change us. Change our missions. Change our organization. Change how we do things with these horses. Change us. This mare was here for a purpose. A distinct and definite purpose. This horse had a destiny and it was to be here.

The extent of her influence and even the purpose of her presence I have not even guessed at yet. But I know that her full meaning will come. In time. I know, though, like I know my name, that this horse was destined to be here. Here to teach us. So next to Frances Andrew, the horse that started it all, was the only place to bury her.

Late on the evening of her crossing, I ventured out to her in the darkness. I found her by the smell of the freshly turned earth. I recalled our walk in the fields just the day before and the joy she took from digging her feet deep into the freshly turned earth. I cried as I thought of her now beneath that fresh earth. I cried for her and then I talked with her. I thanked her again for her time here and I asked her to stay close for a while. Help us heal, I asked. And show us your purpose. Loud and clear. Show us what it is that we are to learn from you, Laddee. Show us. In your own way.

And then I placed a rose on her. Just like that song said, I laid her down on a bed of roses . . .

Lessons from Laddee

2010-08-22T11:24:00.017-05:00

Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare fulfilled her destiny during the pre-dawn hours of Friday, August 20th. Laddee allowed her spirit to move on and left her body to die. And she did this in her own way.

Without any of those who loved her surrounding her, in the quiet of the very early morning, Laddee crossed when no one was there to sing to her. No one was there to plead with her to stay. A technician was with her to insure her airway was open but those who had supported her and sustained her in these past months were not there with her. Laddee crossed when no one was there to try to save her. Laddee crossed in her own way.

One of Laddee's strongest and heartiest supporters was her surgeon, Dr. Anne Nicholson. Dr. Anne became her friend as well as her medical healer. I witnessed Laddee recognize the sound of Anne's voice and walk to her, place her head in Anne's chest, and take comfort in just the presence of this talented woman.

I have come to respect and admire Dr. Anne. And I am eternally grateful for her treatment, her love, and her cares of Laddee. But also for her compassion and tolerance of me. My eternal questions and challenges. My tears that just would not stop at the slightest mention of Laddee and her tumors. And my fears of not being able to care for Laddee as she needed.

As the heat of the summer created intolerable conditions here at THE FARM, Laddee became even closer to Dr. Anne. And in her kindness, Dr. Anne has written her thoughts of Laddee to share with all of you. Read for yourself the talent, the compassion, the dedication, and the gentleness of this Human Being.

Thank you, Dr. Anne, for being there for Laddee. The destiny of Laddee would not have been complete without you. Blessings to you, my friend. And gratitude for the unending, compassionate care of M'Laddee.

Princess Laddee

Things Laddee taught me:
• Hope
• Patience
• Compassion – especially for people
• The power that one individual can have
• Determination
• Selflessness

My journey with Laddee:

July 2009: When I first met Laddee we were being filmed by a camera crew while we examined her. She was large and thin and angry and obstinate and smelled terrible. We had to sedate her for her to be calm enough for us to examine her and her eye at all. She threw her feet and head in distaste for me and what I was doing. We discovered that she had, not a “simple tumor” by her eye, but a bad tumor (epitheliod angiosarcoma), that had metastasized to other places on her head. She also had evidence of another tumor type (squamous cell carcinoma) on the third eyelid of her “good” eye.

With much thought and deliberation, we took her to surgery and removed the bad eye, the third eyelid of the good eye, and a lymph node. Now it was time for anesthesia recovery. Drafts can be hard enough to manage for recovery from anesthesia – but now we have a blind, angry, untrusting Belgian. Yikes! Well, that was the first time Laddee showed me her fight. She recovered without problems and without injury to herself or anyone else.

The aftercare was filled with sedation and bandage changes and a bit of extra wound care on our part – a lot more patience and work on Sandy’s part.

November 2009: Laddee was present and a star at the Refuge Farms Gala. I had to leave the Gala to do emergency surgery while her story was told and the audience teared up in the arena of the Equine Center. But it was my time to shine with her a few days later. The plan was to debulk the tumor below her right ear and implant Cisplatin beads in a hope to reduce the tumor burden.

Surgery was long, but went fairly well. This time, the surgery was performed standing. At the end of surgery, Laddee began to make a lot of respiratory noise. We gave her some time, but she continued to have increased effort breathing. Endoscopy showed laryngospasm – with only a small opening to her airway. Evaluation of her guttural pouches gave us a possible reason why – more enlarged lymph nodes from metastasis. A temporary tracheotomy was performed to allow Laddee to breathe.

At this point, Laddee’s personality towards me was one of tolerance. She was in the fight to live, but luckily for me, she had stopped fighting me. Now, I definitely won’t say that she liked me, but she tolerated me. And her behavior in the hospital was significantly improved from her first visit.

She had clearly touched a place in Sandy’s heart by this point. They were extremely dedicated to each other. And watching that bond was enough to keep me in the fight too. Sandy patiently learned and practiced how to change the tracheotomy tube. Before Laddee was discharged from the hospital, I read Sandy’s vows to Laddee.

December 2009: I was off studying, but Laddee returned to the hospital and was found to have enough airflow through her nostrils to have her tracheotomy tube removed. What a relief for us all.

May 2010: Laddee began having blood-tinged discharge from her nose. Endoscopy revealed that opening to her airway was OK, but there was worsening of the tumors in her guttural pouches. Unfortunately, there was no treatment that would improve that area. But, Laddee was happy and in good health otherwise. Her weight and coat were perfect!

At the end of the month, I was fortunate enough to travel to Refuge Farms with my mom. We both had a wonderful visit and were delighted in seeing Laddee and Handsome together in love.

June 2010: Medically what happened was that a permanent tracheostomy was performed on an elective basis to prevent worsening of Laddee’s difficulty breathing. The surgery itself went well. But Laddee being Laddee, things didn’t go as planned afterwards. The sutures of the tracheostomy didn’t hold so the surgery was revised. The sutures didn’t hold that time either. Creativity led us to try many different things to keep the trachea open; human rib-spreaders ordered on eBay became the most useful tool.

From June 18th until August 20th Laddee spent more time at the U of M Equine Center with us than at Refuge Farms. That is when I really got to know Laddee for who she was.

This is where it becomes so hard to put things into words. So, while this won’t be eloquent in any way here as some snippets of what comes to mind.

She knew and treated people as individuals.
• She knew that Sonja would spoil her, call her “Princess” and feed her
treats. She would paw at the door when she heard Sonja to demand that
attention.
• She knew that Pam would scratch her and would let Laddee use her as a
scratching post to rub her huge head on. This is something she reserved for
Pam.
• She was sweet to Rosalie and let her brush her and bathe her. She just ate up that attention.
• She taught Robert to love horses. Here, this big, blind Belgian knew exactly how to be with a vet student who wasn’t so comfortable around horses. He developed confidence with her friendship.
• She knew me. Her ears would perk up and she’d turn when she heard my voice. She was so patient with me and would eventually let me do almost anything with her in her stall – as long as it was just the two of us. I could change her retractors, clean and examine her trachea, and make any adjustments without much fuss. She wasn’t usually so patient with others. But she had me trained as well – I would get her the hay fines she loved and the butt scratches she wanted on her command.
• How do I even put into words how she was with Sandy? It was the purest form of love I’ve ever seen.

Laddee helped me recognize the power of love and caring for humans. I would like to think that loving and caring for horses has always come easy for me. I’m not always good at recognizing the same needs of people. Laddee brought such a varied group of people together and helped me to get to know them as individuals, like she did.

I have been so fortunate to develop my friendship with Sandy over this journey, and to let her teach me too. Hugs from friends feel good, especially when they are from the heart. The pureness and honesty of Sandy and all she does for horses and people shows in the people who she attracts. The compassion and openness Sandy has for others is amazing. This makes other amazing people such as Pam, Rosalie, and Tracy flock towards her. That loving, giving spirit is truly moving, eye-opening and motivating for me.

So thank you Laddee, for being yourself and trusting in others who had no agenda other than to bring you health and happiness. You brought joy and hope to so many people. Thank you Laddee for showing me how to have more compassion for people as individuals, and inspiring me to do the same. And thank you Laddee for being the catalyst of my friendship with Sandy.

Laddee, I love you and will miss you dearly. The only comfort your crossing has provided is the hope that I have you as an angel watching over me.

Anne Nicholson
August 22, 2010

"She Is A Warrior!"

2010-08-01T14:44:00.030-05:00

As I turned over the Refuge Farms 2010 Calendar to display August, there she was. In all of her misery and puss. With all of her flies and pain. In all of her fright and anger. And with all of her hunger and thirst. There she was. Laddee. A little Belgian mare dropped off in the corral with her best friend, Jack.

A swift twenty-four hours after being dropped off in a strange place with strange water and strange humans around her, the one she depended on and the one she trusted was gone. Jack no longer took her to safety or walked with her into the shade. Jack no longer made noises in the water to show her where the stock tank was sitting. And Jack no longer scratched her mane to comfort and love her.

This blind mare was alone. Frightened. Starved. Fearful. And battling a draining, pussy, fly infested tumor on her eye that created pain and itching all at the same time.

From the very beginning, this little mare was controversial. Do we operate on the eye? Do we put her down? Do we treat her at all given her tendency to put people in the air and strike out with her front feet? Do we spend a penny on this horse that appears to be a danger to any human who ventures into her space? Or do we simply put the "Killer Mare" down and move on?

The decision of whether to operate was posed to four people. Of the four, one answer was to operate only if it would cure her. If surgery would not cure her, don't operate. One answer was "put her down" before I could even finish the presentation of the case. This reply came after the first utterance of the word "cancer". Another answer was a question, actually. "Would she live long enough to heal from the surgery?" And the fourth answer was the one I rested upon. It was yet another question, but this person's guidance has steadied me throughout this entire past year with Laddee. The woman simply asked, "Does she have to be a healthy horse to be loved? Can't you love her if you make her healthier? And not all the way to healthy?"

Laddee's initial eye surgery healing process was not complicated from my perspective but was made complicated by the fact that the horse was not yet trusting of those humans around her. So treatment of the wound required Dr. Brian to stop by THE FARM so we could sedate her in order to clean the wound well and be safely in front of her. Given that huge head and those powerful legs, it seemed the only safe and sensible way to insure a healing horse and whole, unbroken humans.

Laddee flourished. The controversy seemed to diminish a bit. No more "put her down" talk. I observed as some simply stood quietly while looking at the horse with the growing bumps on her skull. I knew the thoughts. I knew all of the thoughts very well. Every single day I ventured there and discussed with myself the pros and cons of treating this horse. And then I relied on my gut. And I chose to listen to Andy's guiding words once again. When I asked him countless times how I would know what to do, he just repeated this answer: "Keep your eye on the horse, Sandy." And so with that guidance, I chose to make her healthier.

Her 2009 Refuge Farms Gala presence was the gift of a lifetime to me. And, I think, to a few others. To be able to proudly march her into that arena and have her walk with me on a lead rope! To have her in with the other horses and safely eating hay and listening to the new noises around her! To look over at her and see the body filling in and her response to the voices that she recognized! That evening, once again, it seemed that the controversy over her was diminished a bit.

Winter passed with stories of her first winter blanketing experience. Her love of feed. And her patient work and gradual winning of the love of Handsome. Many began to ask of the mare and even visit the mare. She became a fixture and we all seemed to forget the word that created all the controversy in the first place. Cancer.

Spring arrived and Laddee journeyed to the Menomonie Middle School with Handsome. Over seven hundred children visited those horses in their corral area. Hundreds of hands touched this mare. Never, ever did I dream that in such a short time she would come to trust and love and relax around us. The power of forgiveness was illustrated in grand fashion that day. The power of healing. And the power of her determination.

Spring brought increased pressure on her windpipe and the decision was once again in my face. Do I treat the mare or not? Several new voices were polled this time. Some said don't trach her. Others said that she must be trach'd. One person, again, said the words that I rested upon. Those words were simply that it is our job to support her until she no longer wants to go on. To support her in her fight against this disease. And to give her more time with Handsome and all of us. To match her determination for as long as she is so determined.

Controversy swirled all around me. Telephone calls to ask what were my intentions. Emails to support the cares provided for this mare. And that solid, stoic quiet from some. The sound of quiet disapproval.

But trach her we did. And Laddee is recovering and showing us all her new found personality once again. This mare is the most loving horse I have known in quite some time. If you stand by her and don't touch her, she nudges you. Reminds you that she is there and that you are (Ahem!) idle. She has come to love carrots and apples and pears and peaches and grapes. All foods that she had no idea even existed a year ago. And she recognizes the voices of those that love and care for her. She is a 1,800 pound puppy on a lax rope walking the grounds with me.

And most notably, she now lifts her head to "Princess". You see, the name "Princess" was given to her by one of her care givers. And it so fits this horse as she blossoms into her new life! She is, indeed, now Princess Laddee. And she could not be more appreciative of the life given to her.

Just last weekend, I was at the University of Minnesota Equine Center with Pam and Rosalie and Dr. Anne and Dr. Jose and Robert. We were all standing and recalling, once again, the transformation of this horse. From the "Killer Mare" to "Princess Laddee". From one who did not tolerate human touch to one who now craves human touch. From one who was to many "dead already" to one who is now alive. Totally alive.

We talked of her travels and her solid determination to heal and move forward. To not give the disease a glance but to work with it and around it. To live in spite of it. To be determined to live now and rejoice now. Dr. Jose said it perfectly when he said:

"Sandy. Oh, Sandy. It was a year ago that she came to us for the removal of her eye and that tumor. A year ago! And many thought she had only two to three months to live. And it has been over a year! A year, Sandy! She is a warrior! This horse is a true warrior. She will fight to live."

Controversy swirls around her. Yes, I am aware and I know. I listen and I watch. And I see the magic this horse creates in Pam and Rosalie and Sonja and Toni and the little girls that brush her and the total strangers that stop by to meet her. I see this horse win people over with her first meeting. And I see people stand in awe as we explain her odds and how well she appears to be doing a full year down the line. I hear of people who ask to see her because they have heard of her. I talk with people who recall her from a full year ago and stand and smile as they see the quiet in her and the size of her now.

Do we treat her? Yes, we treat her. How long? Until "she isn't Laddee anymore" is the response that I'm resting on. The woman who knows her the best answered my question of how will I know when she is tired? How will I know when it is time? Dr. Anne looked at me and calmly replied, "You will know when she isn't Laddee anymore."

How interesting that one year ago as we created the Refuge Farms 2010 Calendar that we would select to place Laddee to appear on the August tab. How interesting that her face appears as I flip the calendar to August amongst this year's meetings of plannings and challenges of treating horses. How interesting that Laddee, as she stands beautifully today, wins over new friends every time one meets her. How interesting that I am more sure now than I have ever been that treating this horse is exactly the right thing to do.

As you turn to August in your Refuge Farms 2010 Calendar, read the words under Laddee's picture. The heartfelt words of one full year ago:

"She has cancer. She is a dier, yes, but we will care for her like any other horse that comes into these barns. We will care for her like she is the most special creature God has ever created. Because, you see, she is."

Controversial? You bet. But before you say anything either way, come and spend some time touching this mare. Stand quietly next to her as she soaks up the breeze of the fan. Talk with her as she eats her feed. Rub her ears. Rub her face and have her fall asleep in your arms. Brush her mane and feel her freeze at the very feel of it. Stand and observe she and Handsome scratching each other. Then, after you have experienced her magic, then speak with me about treating this mare. And we will talk of controversy at its very, very best.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and Laddee, the Little Belgian Mare

Andersen Windows Was Here!

2010-07-26T07:05:00.037-05:00

It was a relatively simple email. Andersen Windows wondered if Refuge Farms would have use for a team of their employees to work at THE FARM for a day.

I blinked and then blinked again. Could it be true? Do we have a use for these people? Oh, my! The largest task would be selecting the project for this team! The list of projects waiting to be done was pages long so, yes, Refuge Farms would have use for a team of employees. Oh, yes!

A few more emails and I was given the names of the four individuals that would arrive at 7am on Thursday, July 15th. The normal shift hours for these people would be kept so our work day would begin at 7am and be completed by 3:30pm. Hopefully, before the worst of the heat!

Another email was received from one of the team members: Did I want her to bring her weed whip? Her mower? Her post pounder? Her tools? A telephone call was received from one of the members: Did I want him to bring his power washer? And his tools? These people were serious workers and willing to share not only their time and labors but also their equipment and tools. My excitement grew even more!

The day before this team arrived, the temperature and the heat index rose to the warning stage. It was dangerous, they said, to be outside and especially to be working. Not a pleasant thought for any of us. However, Thursday morning dawned clear and much cooler and there actually was a breeze. The humidity had moved on to the East Coast and Spring Valley was actually a pleasant place to be. It was 7am and four vehicles pulled into the yard.

No time was taken for tours or chatter. "What do you want us to do? Just point me to what you want done. Where are the posts you want pounded?" These people were serious and seasoned workers!

The two guys set about power washing the inside of the big barn. It had been several years since that barn had been maintained and the cob webs, bird droppings, and dust from the fans made the barn dirty and not a pleasant place for our guests to enter. It was minutes - literally! - and the washers were working and the dirt was flying! Neither of these two men were concerned with the heights and so the ladders sprang up and they cleaned the entire barn. From the very peak to the floor. No spot was missed unless, of course, it was a bird's nest with eggs or babies in it!

Even the wooden interior half walls were washed. As I ventured in the barn at about 10am, the interior looked like it had looked when the barn was new. What a transformation! The two guys were soaked and covered with barn specs of webs, mud, whatever it was they had peeled off of the walls. But not a complaint. Not a one. These were top class people.

Once the washers began, another went to work creating the fence line from the
corral to the east side of the driveway. We were going to finally put a barrier between the horses and that highway! I had expressed that I was a bit fussy about the straightness of the posts and the need for the posts to be in a straight line, as well. I needed have wasted my keystrokes. I have never, truly never, seen such a straight line! And each post was straight, as well. This was an experienced fence maker and a horse owner, as well. She knew what I was looking for and delivered it in spades!

One of the team had set about mowing the entire lawn. With those famous instructions of not mowing into the flowers or under the trees, she creatively found ways to still "get 'er done". As she mowed, my mind was racing with the tasks I could get completed in the time she was saving me! I would be freed this weekend from having to sit on the lawn tractor to mow. What a blessing that was!

It was time for lunch and so we traveled into Spring Valley for a sit down lunch where we could rest and be in the cool of air conditioning. Even lunch was efficient with this crew. We ate and we left. No sitting and chatting. No time to rest the food we had just consumed. Nope, it was, "Let's get back and get the rest done". Gotta love them and their attitudes!

We returned to THE FARM with the same drive and energy as 7am. The time left was short but they didn't seem to know that. The north portion of the corral was picked. The grass around the pine trees in the West Lawn was mowed. Yes, the grass that had not been mowed the entire year! The waist high grass was mowed and the entire appearance of the place changed! And the twenty-four post brackets were pounded into the ground around the corral shelter. Now, I could simply insert the 4x4's and get rid of that temporary, ugly fence around the building!

I stood in awe. As I had emailed Andersen, if one of maybe two of the projects were completed by the end of the day I would be elated! Heck! The entire list was accomplished and even some tasks not even on the list!

At 2:30pm, I called for all of them to come into the big, freshly cleaned barn. I wanted to hook and feed so they could meet some of our residents. It was time to tell some stories and have them understand our Missions. And I had two more very special projects that I wanted them to complete.

While the horses ate, we hung our new, shining fire extinguishers. Those extinguishers so generously gifted by Kristin and Mike so long ago this spring! It was a challenge, actually, to find places to hang them where the horses could not get at them but we humans could! Finally, we settled on places where gate hinges would allow us to shimmy up the post but above the reach of even our mischievous Jeri-Ann!

As Kristin and Mike had pulled out of the driveway that day, I had told myself that I would not hang those bright, new, red extinguishers in the dirty barn. I had told myself that I would get the barn cleaned this summer. And as it always seems to happen, summer was quickly flying by! But these people had made it possible today and so I asked them to hang the extinguishers. Perfect. They seemed to be the final picture to hang on the wall. But, no . . . .

Before we brought the horses in, I explained The Three Promises to them. I told them of Andy and his challenge as we stood next to Frannie's Memory Bed. We talked about horses and I learned that three of these people were or had been horse owners. They knew the power of these creatures. We talked and then we completed the final project for the day.

We hung the big blue sign that had been safely covered and tucked away until the barns were cleaned and extra hands were here to help. Finally, the sign would be hung in the barn. Finally, our Mission Statement and The Three Promises would hang above them as they ate. Finally, our guests would be greeted by the words that define our actions. Finally, the sign would be hung in the barn.

And hung straight, of course. These people even measured so that the screws would be evenly spaced on the top and the bottom of the sign. They measured and re-measured. They knew. They knew how significant this sign was to me and THE FARM and so time and care were taken to do it just right.

Once up on the wall, I felt a piece go into place in my gut. Finally, I would be greeted, too, with the words that I had heard at Andy's funeral. Those words about binding up the crippled and feeding them all in justice. About bringing back the strayed and finding the lost. Finally, my daily reminder was in place.

We hooked and we fed. And then we talked. The big to the little stood around us and the sound of eating was heard in this sparklingly clean shelter. Oh, the impact of these four people! What a magnificent difference they had made that day!

They were filthy. They were sweaty. They were tired and they were hot. But in those moments while the horses ate, they understood. They, too, felt their efforts had made a difference and they knew they had helped in the cause of rescuing and caring for these thrown away horses.

I asked them to each sign the guest book and they left with a newsletter and brochure. A hug and a personal invitation to return. These people had touched me with their compassion and their energy. Their drive and their willingness to help. I felt an enormous relief as we stood in the shade at the end of the day. Many projects that I had been shaking my head over and fretting over were done. Completed. And done well. What a relief these people had given me! The weight they had removed was tangible. My shoulders felt lighter thanks to their drive and hard work.

One of the guests wrote a note in the guest book. It meant the world to me. His note told me that he "got it". Big time. I was pleased and wished I had known before he left so I could hug him for it. His note said simply, "I had a wonderful time. Lots of work but lots of fun. I feel honored to have been allowed to hang your wonderful sign. God bless you!"

It is I who am honored. These four people performed their own kind of magic on that Thursday. They refreshed me. They unburdened me. They gave me new spirit. Thank you. To each of you. Bless you for your works. And your help. And your willingness to do whatever was needed. With humor and a smile. I am the one who is honored to have had you in these humble barns.

Thank you, Jeff.
Thank you, Tassy.
Thank you, Tom.
Thank you, Kristi.

And thank you, Sue.
And Andersen Windows.

I am grateful.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd in the Clean Barn!

They Scratched

2010-07-12T10:41:00.014-05:00

I sure wish my heart would heal right along with Laddee's neck. Your words of encouragement and understanding are so helpful and so very appreciated. However, I need to get through this period of ownership and grief over M'Laddee's difficulty and move on. And that, my friends, is much easier said than done.

Laddee continues to heal, although at a slower rate than expected. As Dr. Anne says, "Laddee just hasn't read the book. And even if she had read the book, Laddee would still be the independent mare that she is and do it her own way." Her journey back to Spring Valley is coming soon. Hopefully, she will delight all of us with her presence in the barn once again.

Until then, she is being treated like royalty. In fact, her new name at the Equine Center is "Princess Laddee". She lifts her head and awaits the treat for responding - an apple. There is a lovely sign on her stall that reads:"Feed Laddee whatever she wants. She likes wet hay cubes (serve them warm), the findings from hay, and fresh grass (pulled from the agricultural lots). Feed her anything she wants."

We spend quality time together almost every day and I am thrilled at her progress and eagerly await the day when Dr. Anne says it is safe to send her home.

And her Handsome. Oh, her Handsome waits diligently for her. Eager for food, he comes into the barn and stands in his corner obediently awaiting the drop of his big feed tub. He has resumed eating his feed, thank heavens. This ordeal has caused him to lose a few pounds right with his girl, Laddee.

But after the feed, he stands quietly in his corner. No one to come and nudge him and scratch with him. Handsome spends the day in the barn looking out. No one to stand over and guard as she lays in the hay sleeping in the early morning sun. Handsome is lonely and awaiting the return of his love.

But this morning, I saw something of pure magic, however. This morning I saw one horse reaching out to another horse to help fill his void. I stood in awe and then quickly remembered the camera. I needed to record this moment. And share it with all of you.

After breakfast, Handsome stood quietly in his corner. Appaloosa Mare and PONY! were already back outside, just like a good little married couple should be. But Gracie stayed in the barn longer than usual. So long, in fact, that I began to watch her out of the corner of my eye to see if she was lost or sore or in trouble in some way.

But then she began to move. Tiny little steps with those tiny little feet. Slowly and carefully. Smelling the ground after every step. Carefully placing a hoof on the ground and then carefully shifting her weight to move forward. Smell the ground again and then repeat the process once more. A very slow and deliberate process. But Gracie seemed determined and so onward she moved.

Gracie was two feet or so behind Handsome when he noticed her there. Still he stood quietly. He saw no threat in her and presumed she was after his feed droppings. Still, little Gracie continued her slow, deliberate trek forward. Forward to Handsome.

Finally up next to him, Gracie reached over and nuzzled him. The big giant of a horse ignored her. After waiting for a response and not receiving one, Gracie then nuzzled Handsome once more. The big horse turned his head and looked down at her with his one good eye. What did she want? Almost disregarding her, Handsome turned his head back and resumed his gaze outside. But Gracie was not to be ignored.

Once again, she gently nuzzled the giant horse. Stretching her little neck upward to try to reach his ribs, she nuzzled him and awaited a response. Gracie had grown a little impatient and so when Handsome still ignored her, little Gracie now gently bit the big horse. Gently but surely in his ribs. She bit. Now, Handsome turned and looked at her again. What did she want?

While the giant head was turned to her, Gracie nuzzled Handsome once more. She wanted to scratch with him.

Handsome turned and looked down at the little tiny horse. The little mare stood her ground and awaited his return nuzzle of her. Handsome nuzzled the top of her back by simply turning his head to her. Meanwhile, she stretched her neck upward and worked hard to reach the base of his throat.

They scratched.

How precious this scratching was! Little Gracie had come to Handsome and offered her scratching to help him. Did she sense his loneliness? His solitude? His need for compassion? Did she know that he longed for his Laddee and scratching with her? Whatever little Gracie sensed, she knew that Handsome needed the scratching of a mare. Overcoming her blindness and forgetting her tiny size while never fearing his enormous size, Gracie stepped up to help the big gelding.

There's a lesson in there somewhere. I know it will come to me someday. But right now, I just want to share with you the magic of these horses. Little Gracie and Big Handsome. Once again, they show us Humans how to be.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd Awaiting Laddee's Return

This Is A Tough One

2010-06-27T11:56:00.012-05:00

It was exactly two weeks ago today that I rose early to feed and get on the road by 8am to retrieve and deliver a lovely little Arabian mare, Gitanna. The entire process went as smoothly as anyone in the world of rescue could want. Not a hitch and not a snag. The horse was compliant and before I left her, she was already making friends with her newly adopted twin sister.

But that morning, my legs felt weighted by lead. My throat was very swollen and sore. And my body was weak. I told myself that I needed sleep. That tonight I would come home and take two aspirin and sleep this bug away. Sleep would be the remedy. And Monday morning, I would be well again to start another busy week. I just needed some sleep.

Wrong. My body decided to harbor this bug. And harbor it well it did. I awoke around 3am on Monday to a fever of 104 degrees. And to say I was "under the weather" was an understatement.

The entire day of Monday I spent rallying enough energy to change the litter boxes. A quick posting to the bulletin board expressing my displeasure with the fever was posted and then I managed to sit again. I never made it out to the barns on Monday.

Mistake #1.

Tuesday I spent rallying the energy to drive to the Urgent Care Clinic and be seen by a doctor I didn't know. Pneumonia. Yup, I knew that already. I came for the meds, please. And the cough syrup. About a gallon of it, please. After a short nap in the truck, I drove myself home and once again found my way into the house. Weak and still with a raging fever, I never made it out to the barns on Tuesday.

Mistake #2.

Wednesday morning I forced myself to go out to the barns. It took quite some time to get to the barn and once there, I sat on the feed tank wondering how I would ever get back to the house. The horses were no worse for the wear and so eager to be fed that everyone - every single horse! - stood at it's allotted private space waiting for their very own magic bucket to appear. With such faith shown in me and patience shown by them, I fed them all. It felt good and it was time to clean Laddee's trach site.

Laddee was newly home after placing a permanent trach to allow easier breathing for her. The wound was healing nicely and she seemed up and active. Happy to be home and back with her Handsome. Standing in the barn. Laddee had learned to love the concept of a barn. Shelter. It was one of her favorite things now. She seemed well.

But not so. I could tell upon haltering her that something was amiss. I cleaned her site and called for Dr. Brian. There was too much schmoo. And it appeared as if the trach was closing.

I spent some time resting on the feed tank and then went about unhooking everyone. Laddee was cleaned and returned to the pasture. The appointment was made for Dr. Brian to visit on Friday since he was at a conference until then. I seemed content with that plan since I was soaked in sweat and trembling with weakness. I needed to get back to the house.

Mistake #3.

Thursday I seemed to be rounding the bend although my legs still felt weighted with lead and the fever was still present, although now only at 101 degrees. I was on the mend. The old barn was cleaned and I moved some square bales of hay for Miss April and Dudely. Laddee was cleaned and I called to confirm Dr. Brian's appointment for the next day.

Mistake #4.

Dr. Brian arrived on Friday and looked sideways at me as I began firing questions at him. He asked if it hurt to talk. Yes, it did, but Laddee has problems with her trach, I believe. What does he think?

A quick exam and Dr. Brian confirmed that her trach stitches had come loose as the swelling had gone down and indeed, her trach was closing. Before he could say anything else, I was down the driveway and dropping the trailer. Dr. Brian spoke via the telephone with Dr. Anne while I loaded the little mare and I was gone. With Laddee in the trailer. Where she should have been on Wednesday.

These past two weeks have been spent helping Laddee regain the ground she lost. Ground and progress that she lost because I was ill and didn't have a plan. I didn't have a number to call for someone else to take over while I recovered. I didn't react and take control. And this little mare has to suffer for my mistakes.

This isn't a pretty story with yet a happy ending. Laddee's trach is healing but she is struggling to hold stitches. The tissue isn't fresh anymore and so what would have worked the first week is slower to work now. I made mistakes. Huge mistakes. I did not take action. And the animals that I vowed to protect and care for suffered because I made those mistakes. I let them down.

There have been lessons learned these past two weeks. Yes, I've learned the lessons very, very well. Our next Strategic Planning Session will talk about short-term as well as long-term support. I need to have a plan. People willing to check tanks, maybe clean a bit of barn, feed or check on hay levels, and count heads. I need to never, ever make these mistakes again. And believe me, I won't. Never, ever will I make these mistakes again.

This is a tough one to write. To admit. To try to forgive. Selfishly, writing this blog has helped me to admit it. Forgiveness will need to wait. Right now, I am focused on supporting Laddee and doing my best to get her back to where she was. Losing ground when you are fighting cancer is a bad thing. And this little mare is a fighter, but she is fighting a battle that need not have been put in front of her. She is in this fight because of mistakes made by her human.

These blogs tend to be a therapy, of sorts. A place to vent. To dream. To share a piece of magic. A place to put concepts and ideas out there. A therapy, of sorts. A blank slate that I can use to empty my heart. And get myself back on track. So, I've written this blog and subsequently admitted these mistakes to all of you. And now, as you need to do in therapy, I've admitted the mistakes to myself.

This world of rescue is, at times, a difficult one. The rewards are mighty and many. The work is very hard. And the need is overwhelming. And at times, I marvel in how people will allow things to get so bad before they cry for help. Maybe I now better understand the human side. It is so easy to wait and hope things get better. I find myself telling myself what I so often have told others: Take action before it gets to the crisis point. Do something so you are not caught reacting. Be in front of "it". Steer "it". Don't follow "it" and try to catch "it". I need to listen to myself speak.

This is a tough one to write. Thank you for reading it. And if you are the praying sort, would you add Laddee to your list?

Closer Than Usual

2010-06-20T07:34:00.016-05:00

To say it has been a full, eventful week is to say the sky is blue. Even in a week when the body decides to mandate time sitting still. Even when the voice is non-existent. Even when the legs are as weak as overcooked noodles. Even then, there are lives on the end of those telephone calls. And in those emails. And in those cars that turn into the driveway. True to the word 'rescue', the need just never, ever goes away.

Last weekend I told you I was about to retrieve a beautiful little mare. Gitanna was, in fact, retrieved and I am thrilled to say that she is doing remarkably well in her new home. Her pal, the mare I call 'The Camp Mare' is almost unrecognizable. Her knotted, matted, long winter coat is replaced by a slick coat with blood spots appearing. Her skeleton is hidden by a layer of fat and developing muscle. She is feisty and noisy! And displaying her Arab breeding with every step and every look. Gitanna will fit in just fine.

I also told you that upon my return, I would tell you a story. A heartfelt story of hope. And trust. And endurance. And faith. This past week has changed the story that I am going to tell you. But remarkably, it is still a story of hope and trust and endurance and faith. Originally, I was going to tell you the story of a horse. Instead, on this Sunday morning, I need to tell you the story of the family that has walked with me every step in these past few days . . .

For some reason - unknown to me - my family has been right over my shoulder. All week. I hear my Mother as I walk down the stairs in the morning. The presence of my Sister I feel as I feed the horses. And I sense my Father as I try to focus on an issue that needs a resolution, and that resolution is just out of my reach. Riding in the truck I feel my family is right there. Right behind me. In my heart and in my mind.

To know my Mother, I'm thinking, would be to know me. Those who knew Mom tell me that before we are even close enough to hug each other. "You are the spitting image of your Mother!" they exclaim. I have her stature and her build. Her face and her double chin. And I have her ways when it comes to caring for those you love.

Now, my Mother would be aghast if she saw this house. The hair balls. The dust. The piles and piles and piles of boxes and papers. The lack of places for guests to sit. And the condition of the kitchen. When she opened the refrigerator, I think, would have been the last straw. "No one needs to live like this", she would mutter and spit. And then she would begin the process of "putting it right".

My Mother believed in order. And from order came sense. But even if the house were a mess and dishes were piled up and the floor needed sweeping, if my Mother saw a creature in need my Mother let the housework sit. She never placed doing housework above caring. She taught me well. Too well! For, you see, I can always find some 'caring' that needs to be done rather than run that contraption piled in the corner that you call a vacuum!

My Mother placed her family above all else. She was devoted and supportive of us. Never one to see us as perfect but always asking "What happened?" before giving us that look. That look. That look that preceded the utterance of "Sannnndra!". To this day, if someone calls me Sandra I feel myself straighten up and attempt to stand a bit taller.

Violet was a good teacher. She taught me to care for those I love. To protect them and to defend them. To be their best advocate in all issues of well being. And to have a sense of humor. Even when times are tough, to find a reason to smile. Genuinely smile. Violet was an excellent teacher.

She taught me to share. And that possessions were just things. It is the living things that matter. Enjoy the outside. Work hard with your hands. Love the earth and look at what it produces! Learn to love the weeds. Be comfortable in your skin. And smile. Great lessons from a great woman.

If you had met my Sister, you would have loved her. A tall woman with light brown eyes and skin that burned in the summer sun. A woman with the "gift of gab" and a wit that took most by surprised. My Sister was quick minded and fiercely loyal. I never doubted her love for me even when she doubted my sense of reason. We had much in common and, at the same time, very little in common.

When Donna and I would spend a day together, she would come to my house and bake something. Homemade bread. A pot roast. Pumpkin pie. Me? I would be in the garage changing the oil on her car for her. Then we would clean up and go someplace we had never been before. Just to go. To look. And to spend time just being together.

One day I came in from working in the garage and she suggested I clean up. She was making meatloaf that afternoon and so I said, with a smile, "Cool. Then let me make the meatloaf. I'll mash up the hamburger. It's either that or I'll have to wash dishes to get the dirt out from under these nails."

My Sister never ate my meatloaf again.

The one devotion that Donna and I had in common was our love of horses. When we were kids, Mom would take us to the Circle T Ranch once a summer to ride a horse for an hour. It was expensive and the hour flew by! But I treasured the feel of the leather reins in my hands. And the smell of the horses. I was intoxicated by their smell! We would be sore that day but both of us were in our own make believe places. Dreaming of owning our own horses. Someday.

Donna knew Ono. And adored her. More than once I found her in the little barn with Ono. Just standing with the horse. Looking at her and inhaling. Donna loved horses, too. And I'm thinking when I'm in the barns is when I feel her the most. She loves these horses, too. It would be very much like Donna to love the underdog. Heck, she loved me.

My Dad. Now there was a man. Strong in character. Strong in body. And strong in the ways of the heart.

A quiet man. Not one to talk much. But when he talked, you listened. He was honest. I clearly remember the conversation between Mom and Dad at the dining room table. Mom wanted Dad to have some sort of a contract for this job that he was about to take on. I got the impression that the man Dad was going to be working for wasn't highly regarded by most. Mom wanted a contract.

My Dad didn't do business that way. They talked about it and my Mom pressed my Dad for a contract. I clearly remember my Dad turning his head and looking Mom right in the eyes. He said, "Violet. If a man's handshake is no good, what makes you think his signature is any good?"

It was my Father who taught me to trust right out of the shoot. Trust people. Only when they have proven that they can't be trusted do you pull back. And then, be sure to talk to the person and try to understand.

It was my Father who taught me that sometimes it is wiser to be silent. That the absence of words can be more powerful that any words at all. That a hand on a shoulder can do more to help someone than any words of encouragement. That quietly doing something for someone in need is the reward in itself.

It was my Father who showed me endurance and strength. In the year I was born, my Father suffered what we used to call "a nervous breakdown". I never fully understood it, but when he came home from Mayo Clinic Mom said he was thin. And shaky. And afraid of his shadow. He was even more quiet than usual.

He had "relapses" from time to time. Mom said he was never quite the same after the "breakdown". I remember one morning, he was dressed to go to work. He held my Mom, put on his work cap, and started out of the house. Started to walk to the shop down the driveway. The shop where his equipment and his tools were. He stayed in the yard that day. My Mom took me to the library to read books for the day. But the next morning, and the next, and the next, I watched the same process each morning. Quiet, solid strength. Endurance. Resilience. Determination written on his frightened face. And then finally, several days later, he made it all the way into the shop. And I remember my Mom hugged me and cried.

The love between those two was written on the siding of our house. Visible for all to see. I grew up in a house filled with love and laughter and high expectations. We had faith in God. And we had faith in each other. We believed in the power of love and we had hope for all good things. We were not ashamed to hug each other. Our house had rules and we knew right from wrong. It was simply expected that we would do right. And, in our house, every single member knew they were wanted. Even when times were tough and money wasn't there, every single member of our family knew they were wanted. We simply endured and loved a little harder.

This family of mine sticks with me. In the stories I can tell of them. In the few pictures I have of them. And in my heart. Always in my heart.

But this week, of all weeks, they have stayed close to me. Closer than usual. Is it because it is spring? Is it because I was ill? It is because of what lies ahead? Or is it just because they miss me, too? For whatever reason, they are close.

And I am the lucky, lucky one.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd with Donald and Violet and Donna

I'll Be Back!

2010-06-13T06:51:00.004-05:00

It is early on this Sunday morning and I am about to leave with trailer in tow to pick up and re-home a horse today. It is my expectation to return home to THE FARM in early afternoon.

Upon my return, I will create the story I have to tell to you. There is much to tell from this past week. There is a heartfelt story of hope. And trust. And endurance. And faith.

Talk with you soon!
Sandy and The Herd

A Gentle Guest Returns

2010-05-30T07:44:00.011-05:00

On Memorial Day Weekend of May of 2009, I introduced you to Dan Knutson. I met Dan back in the 70's while we both were working in the Gambles Corporate IS (Information Systems) Division. I was a consultant and Dan was the "techie" that I turned to in order to make "it" all happen. A friendship grew from that hectic time. A friendship that has lasted.

After Dan's initial visit to Refuge Farms, I asked that he write of his impressions. He did write and many of us talked of his observations. It did not surprise me to read Dan's words, but then I had come to know a bit of the man. His mind is surprisingly adaptive and deep. The little details do not pass him by. And he is a talented writer. And so since it is once again Memorial Day Weekend and so this morning, I am going to remind you of his words that were published one year ago today . . . .

A Note from Sandy: One of my long, lost friends reappeared in my life this week. And he brought with him a flood of memories. Memories of our good times, our laughs, and some of life's most unexpected moments.

I asked this friend, as he was pulling out of the driveway, if he would care to write a blog. And he did. Below is that blog. Enjoy. And thanks, Dan!

25-May-09

Happy Memorial Day! I long ago felt uncomfortable with that sentiment but finally decided that I was happy with the privileges that our heroes helped to protect over the history of this country. We honor their memory today.

Regular readers of this blog will no doubt be wondering who this guy is intruding on their surroundings so let me introduce myself. About 30 years ago I was assigned to a project at a company in Minneapolis. A woman named Sandy would be the Business Analyst and I would be the Systems Analyst. We were both young, aggressive, and we were going to fix everything wrong with the entire world. It is possible that our expectations exceeded our reach.

Sandy and I remained friends for a decade and more but then lost track of each other after geography and other things changed. We found each other again last year and I found myself near to Spring Valley last week so that I could finally see Sandy and her charges in person.

On this day when we honor human heroes, I want to honor the volunteers and supporters of Refuge Farms. A hero is someone who ignores dangers to their well being and their very life to defend the defenseless. I know that horses are not helpless but they do not, in fact, have a defense against the evils and ignorant neglect of their human keepers. Those of you who defend them are indeed heroes in my book.

Thank you for your sacrifice.

By the way, some of you might not know that the original name for Memorial Day was Decoration Day when, once a year, graves of those fallen in battle were decorated. When you are next at THE FARM, look across the lawn from the house and you will see the decorated graves of our fallen heroes of The Original Herd. Remember them as well.

Be well, all of you, and do your work with a glad heart. You may not save the world by yourself but it cannot be saved without you.

Dan Knutson

Today, on Memorial Day Weekend of 2010, I have the pleasure of once again giving you the words of Dan Knutson. Dan spent the better part of last Wednesday with Isaac and I. He was a gentle soul while in the barn. Quietly standing and observing. Soaking it all in. Not getting himself or his noises in the way of the work that Isaac and I were so intent upon. Respecting our need for rhythm and quiet while we worked with these horses that carry so much baggage from their human handlers.

Not once did Dan seem "miffed" that my attentions were on Isaac and the horses and not on him. Not once did he give me a sense that I must juggle my energies. No, he allowed me to remain focused to insure safety of our dear Isaac and the calmness and system for the horses. Bless you, Dan, for understanding my heart.

That evening, Dan chose to leave as Isaac and the boys and I cleaned up for a bite to eat. But Dan returned the next afternoon to spoil me with a good meal, an air conditioned ride, and great conversation. Alas, I was poor company. Too tired to keep a good conversation going. And already too stressed with the list of things rattling around in my head that needed to be done in preparation for the events this weekend.

But, nonetheless, Dan was a gentle and kind man and understood. He quietly watched me as I cleaned my plate of every morsel and crumb. And then, I'm sure, saw my eyes begin to droop as the conversation waned. He understood and was gracious with me. Thanks, Dan.

So, on this Memorial Day Weekend, I am once again honored to give you the words of my friend, Dan Knutson. He will return again this time next year. And next year I will take us someplace to do something. We will create a new memory and we will spend time out of the barns. We will once again laugh over the pen and the waitress with her tray of dinner selections. And maybe, if he is willing, I will have more words to grace our pages.

Here are Dan's words for Memorial Day of 2010:

28-May-10

I returned to THE FARM after a difficult year badly in need of Magic. Luckily, this seems to be the fount. I got hugs from Sandy and bumps from the cats and missed Little Man terribly.

I had the distinct honor to meet Isaac and watch him work alongside Sandy (after being kicked in the head just a few days ago – yikes!). They are like a great doubles team or; since I suspect Isaac doesn’t play much tennis, maybe a great double-play combination. Both of them seem to be telepathic when it comes to horses. Sandy knows when they are stressed and Isaac knows when he can push a bit more and get done. It was magic just to watch.

I realized as Sandy told me the story of each horse in the shoeing bed that I finally understood an aspect of her work that had escaped me since we reconnected. I have known since I met Sandy that she loved horses. What I understand now is that she cannot do what she does now without accepting abuse.

Understand, I don’t mean that she condones abuse, but that she observes the presence of abuse and sees the results of that abuse in her charges (I won’t say the relationship is ownership). She is willing to confront the abuser and even negotiate the outcome that she must have.

Most people, me included, try and leave abuse behind at top speed. At most we may report it to the “proper authority”. Not Sandy, she grabs the proper authority by the arm and demands that something be done – not to punish the humans but to help the horses. I suspect that those of you who read this blog regularly are the same kind of people and I salute you all.

In a habit that I hope to develop, the last moments at THE FARM I stood by the Memorial Beds as seems appropriate at this time of year. It was glorious weather and I tried my best to memorize everything. The magical scene will have to last another difficult year. I think it will be enough.

Dan Knutson

Enjoy this day of memories. Make memories this holiday weekend for yourself. And do spend a moment, somewhere in there, for sitting quietly and being grateful. This weekend is a holiday for remembering. Remember them all.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy, Who is Remembering The Herd Waiting Over the Bridge

SherriStudio at Catfish Corner

2010-05-14T21:42:00.018-05:00

Do you remember a few weeks ago . . . I introduced you to a "Sister in Rescue" and you read her guest blog? Sherri is a fellow horse lover and an artist. She is a Parelli student and understands the headset of "Love, Language, and Leadership" as illustrated by our simple rope halters. Sherri also has a way with words. Her guest blog contained a poem she had come across as she helped transport her friend's horse to a South Dakota ranch where they would continue their study of the Parelli horse handling technique. Do you remember?

Well, I was just checking emails before ending the day and I found an email from Sherri. Her farm is alive this weekend, as well, with the Fresh Art Tour - a three-day country tour of artist's studios and their works. Sherri's Studio is one of the destinations on this tour.

So, as I opened her email, I anticipated reading about the wind and her guests and how grateful she was (as was I!) that the rains had stopped and the sun had warmed our faces today.

Below is what I found. This woman's heart never ends. Her support of our Missions is constant. And I am so honored and proud to be a friend of this woman. Thank you, Sherri. Many thanks to you, dear heart!

BUT! You must read below and act quickly! Sheri's work is awesome and creative. See below and read of this woman's heart and her efforts to help us save a life! Thanks to all of you, too, for "taking a chance" with Sherri!

SherriStudio at Catfish Corner

This is the panel I have donated to Refuge Farms that I am raffling off this weekend at the Fresh Art Tour (Friday, May 14th through Sunday, May 16th).

Here's the deal---$1.00 per ticket gets you the chance to win this 9 x 15" stained glass panel. It it a combination of cobalt blue glass, clear bevels, smoke gray and various textured clear glass pieces. It is in a silver finish and would look stunning in your sunny window.

Here's how to get your chance to win it for as little as $1:

Go to http://www.sherristudio.blogspot.com/

You will see this blog entry again and at the end of the blog, you will find a "BUY" button to purchase your raffle tickets.

Click on the "BUY" button for each denomination you choose - you can select either a $1 chance or $5 worth of chances. It's as easy as that!

This is only running for Friday, Saturday and Sunday and the winner will be announced here (at Sherri's website) on Monday.

See what I mean? Isn't the glass piece just stunning? And it contains our royal blue color! Isn't it beautiful?

We'll keep you posted on this blog, as well, how the raffle comes out. Oh, how fun! How kind! And how generous and thoughtful! Just think . . . another life just waiting for us to come for him. Or her. Patiently enduring. And just waiting . . .

Thanks, Sherri - I'll see your smiling face very soon!

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sandy and The Herd and A Whole Herd of Supporters!

MONDAY, MAY 17, 2010

THANK YOU!

What a beautiful weekend we had for the Tour! The weather was perfect and so many great people stopped in the visit the studio.

Thanks to the folks who entered the raffle this weekend which benefits Refuge Farms! We had 121 entries and 100% of the dollars go to the support of horses who have been rescued from very sad and abusive situations.

The judge finally arrived to draw the lucky number and.........

THE WINNER IS................ drum roll...............
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NUMBER 35
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Held by Lisa Johnson from Pepin, WI!................cheers!.........

Thank you, Lisa (you did STUFF the entry box) for your support and I hope you enjoy the panel for years to come!

The Fall Art Tour is going to be held the first weekend in October and I'll dream up another contest.

P.S. from Sandy:

I just "talked" with Sherri via email and her check has been received. Plus she added to the sum for her pledge to The Walk for Refuge. As a result, the full donation from this raffle with the added pledge from Sherri will go as one big pledge to help us meet our goal for care of the feet of The Herd.

Thank you, Sherri! And to all who purchased raffle tickets! Enjoy the panel, Lisa!