Healing a Heartache

Larry and I are in our new home and we are happy, comfortable and so pleased with the remodel results and having air conditioning at 85 degrees.

At the same time we both are feeling a profound sadness. An emptiness that aches and aches on.

On Friday, the day we were moving, in a matter of 3 hours I was faced with the most shocking and unexpected and extremely difficult decision of kissing Tripper one last time as he went off to horse heaven.

So much of what we created here at Om Ranch was created with Tripper in mind. From the fencing to the dry lot to rock collection and pathways. For some reason he wasn't meant to come here. I cannot grasp the why.

Many beautiful things have been said about Tripper and they all hold truth. He was strong and stoic and most other horses with the level of pain he had would be on the ground rolling. He stayed strong for me and did not want me to see his pain. He is in horse heaven under a shade tree with our neighbor horse Twist. His body was giving out a year and half ago and it was his spirit that came alive again to carry him this far. He regained his dignity, something very important to horses, and he died with dignity.

I cannot put words to the pain I feel in my heart.

Tripper opened a part of my heart that I didn't realize existed. He invited me to love in a different way. Without his daily encouragement I feel lost. Can I continue what he has shown me on my own?

Friday morning I went out to greet my boys as usual and I did not see Tripper's ears perking up over the hay and I did not hear his familiar good morning nicker. Alibi and Pippin were there, but not Tripper. I went looking for him up in lava land, a place he never went because the rocky surface was too much on his senior bones.

The gate is at one end of the dry lot so I started calling him and walking in. Some ways in I could see him walking toward my voice. As soon as he saw me, he went down. I ran to him and found him scratched and scraped from head to hoof from rolling around on the ground trying to ease his abdominal pain. He had been in pain for a while.

Gently I got the halter around his confused head and worked with him to get him up. Carla, a gal boarding her horses there, came up to help me and the two of us kept him walking. Pippin and Alibi were behind us, encouraging him to keep going. We got him up to the barn and put him in the round pen to keep him going.

He wanted to lie down and roll again and we had to work hard to not allow that. I called the vet and it seemed to take hours before they arrived. A call for colic is an emergency response.

When they arrived they did a preliminary exam and Tripper's heart rate was dangerously high. They gave him medication to ease the pain. They gave him a sedative so they could put a tube up his nose and down his throat. They had to give him a second dose and still he seemed not to be too sedated. He was a gentleman while they did what they had to to assess his condition.

We walked him back down through the dry lot and through the gate of Jeff and Barb's place to use their trailer. Every horse along the way was calling out to him. He didn't have the energy to walk but he did and he kept going. A good 1/2 mile.

After some other tests, it was determined that part of his small intestine had died, most likely due to a lipoma that cut it off. Apparently, this is somewhat common in senior horses. Surgery didn't suggest high positive odds and even if the surgery did go well, his expected time would maybe be a year.

I had to decide fairly quickly because if we wanted to do surgery, we had to do it right away. There was no knowing how much of his small intestine was affected until the surgery and then only so much of it could be removed.

Tripper stayed standing the entire time. He moved as he was asked. He was polite and kept his manners. I couldn't stop holding him and kissing him and comforting him. I asked him to comfort me.

I held Tripper until his last breaths. When he was gone, I stayed with him for a while just caressing him and playing with his very soft mane. I kissed him again and felt that little bump in his forehead that I felt everyday and I smelled his fresh sweet coat, a combination I enjoyed every day for a year and a half. With my eyes closed I could tell you it was him.

Later when I got back home I went up to lava land to see where he was and what he had experienced. I didn't realize it until then that he was behind my house. He came looking for me.

He never made it to our new home. Here we remember him and talk about him often and we cry. It was a shock. And it is a deep loss that we will feel for a very long time.

I miss my friend. I miss my horse. I miss that part of my heart being touched every morning.

Readying for the Next Chapter

It was a fantastically busy day today. A very warm temperature, a lot of manual labor, multiple tasks going on at a time. By 11:40pm tonight I finally had time to take the shower I was desperately needing about 7 hours ago.

Off rinsed the sweat, dust, dirt, sun block, dog licks, horse licks, mud, strawberry juice from a wild get-away berry, hay. I'm sure there was something else layered on.

We welcomed our first 4 horse guests to our new ranch: Om Ranch. To great success I must add.

A lot of hard work went into creating the dry lot. Everything from fence building to rock and dirt moving to picking up the remains from previous burn piles that never quite burned.

At about 6:45pm our first 2 guests arrived: Faramir and Hye Note. Jeff and Stephanie walked them around the lot to show them the lay of the land and then let them off halter. We all watched to see if they would scare from the new surroundings and fencing. To the contrary, they seemed to just love their new home! They played and ran and made new paths and within minutes Hye Note rolled around in the dirt claiming his space.

Whew!

The other 2, Belle and Zack, arrived shortly after. Hye Note and Faramir showed them the way. Everyone seemed at ease and comfortable.

Our new endeavor: horse boarding. Off to a very good start.

We moved most of the kitchen today. We have been moving our clothes over, shoes, books, things that are easy to toss into boxes and put into the trunk or front seat--the back seat has been recently occupied by 2 very willing to ride dogs.

Tonight is our last night sleeping here at Dayton Rd. We have been here since March 2009. Many stories have come from our time here. Many lessons learned. Many hours spent with very special neighbors and now friends. We are truly grateful for this experience.

And we both agree, we are ready for the next chapter. As Larry likes to say, "It's time for Mary Poppins to fly." It's time.

Tomorrow we move our bed and a few other choice items. Alibi and Tripper come with us tomorrow as do Bodie, Felon and Pooker. The chickens will come over the weekend as we empty everything else out.

Our new home is wonderful! Larry has done an amazing job with the remodel. It really wasn't a remodel, it was a full on gutting. If you could only see what the house was like when we bought it and what it is like today--spectacular.

The island in our kitchen looks out over the living room and on through a big picture window that carries us to the lawn, across the driveway and to the front pasture. The pasture rolls down toward the road and then across to our new neighbors' pastures, up toward their homes and barns and continues on all the way out to the south and east to Aubrey Butte out to the Ochocos.

When people come up to the house and look out, they are surprised at just how far you can see. Expansive comes to mind.

A couple of the pieces I ordered for our yoga room came today. Wall art. Very happy with the purchases.

We have been very fortunate to have found a hard working team to help us get to this point. Jesus, Gloria and Tim have really kicked in when it mattered most. Of course, there have been countless contractors around, oddly enough most have mono-syllabic names.

So, tonight as I prepare for my last night sleep here, I can hear Slammer outside calling for his friend Faramir. Tomorrow I know Pippin will be calling for Alibi and Tripper.

Just as we all experience a move, so do the horses.

The Double Stuff

Larry and I got chatting about cookies, Newman's Ginger Cream cookies to be precise, and just how many one person can eat in a sitting. Our friend Barb is a true cookie monster, she can impress the masses with her cookie consumption.

Larry said he remembered eating a whole box of Oreos and then not being able to eat them for a long time after. I do recall a similar experience, just not with cookies.

We both recalled the introduction of the Double Stuff Oreo. Neither of us were fans; they were just overkill. A definite messing with a perfectly good cookie.

Then it dawned on us, the Double Stuff cookie got the super-size frenzy rolling.

Jumbo slurpees, king-kong packs of McDonald's french fries, the double-double burger, Venti lattes, chocolate covered everything.

Belly ache.

Welcome Bodie! The Story.

It all happened so quickly. I went to dance class on Wednesday and then stopped by Jerri's house to "meet" this little dog who needed a new home. Next thing I knew, I was loading this timid frightened creature into the backseat of my car.

His tag has the name Zipp. He didn't respond to that name and really, a darling miniature Australian Shepherd deserves a more, well, darling name.

So, Bodie it is. (This may or may not have something to do with my enjoyment of the western Cheyenne.)

After being weaned, Bodie went from a breeder to a new home and then a few days ago was brought to Jerri's because they found him "out of control." We got an email from Jeff and Barb, our neighbors who have Nick, a dog like Bodie, saying that Jerri just needed to find a home for this dog. It said something to the effect of "if you want him you better get him fast."

I thought, well by all means we should explore this. Explore the idea. The possibility. Explore what it would mean to have a second dog. When I suggested to Jerri that I take a few pictures to show Larry, she suggested I just bring him the dog.

I was not expecting to come home with a dog. I called Larry, "Honey, I think we have a new dog." While Larry got a kennel ready for him, Bodie and I drove to the feed store to get him a cute dog dish with dog paws print and the food to go inside.

At the feed store I discovered that Bodie has difficulties with men (I so get this dog.) It was sad to see, really. He cowered and growled when Joel, Judd and Bill tried to pet him and give him cookies. When Libby came out; however, he went straight to her and let her love on him while he licked cookie crumbs from her fingers.

When we got home, I introduced Bodie and Larry. He growled at Larry and again cowered behind my legs. He even barked at him. Fortunately, Larry speaks animal. He sat on the floor, made his shoulders soft, his voice tender, he put his head and eyes down and broke up a dog cookie and let Bodie come to him and eat from his hand. By the end of the evening Bodie was letting Larry pet him and he turned his back to him while eating--a sign of trust.

Things sure have changed in a matter of days. Bodie very happily jumps up onto the man cave futon to cuddle with Larry and gives him his belly to rub for as long as Larry has time.

Now we are working on 11 year old Felon and her acceptance of 8 month old Bodie. She is warming to the idea.

The other day we introduced Bodie to the chickens. Or let's say Bodie introduced himself and all his magnificent herding dog talents. I've never seen my hens and rooster run, fly, flutter, spin, jump and flip more than in those 10 seconds. We had another 4 seconds of this and with the help of a remote control collar and a stern "No!" Bodie gets that the hens are not his charges.

Whew. Chicken soup dodged again.

Bodie is a love. He runs himself to exhaustion and then just crashes to recharge. He's great in the car and he's smarter than a whip. It's been new fun to teach him the do's and don't's of ranch life. Extremely tiring too. Most things take me twice as long as I'm either tracking him, calling him, rescuing him from Felon, petting him, schooling him, or just standing still watching him.

We have some work left to do. He is an 8 month old after all. He is a handful. A very soft fluffy innocent endearing handful.

Here's to asking the universe to help us equip our new ranch! Om. Peace. Amen.