AMAZING TRUE Pet Stories!

The morning we drove south to pick her up was warm. When we arrived at the home where the corgi puppies were, My daughter took her time picking out her favorite. This would be her 4h dog and she would learn showing as well as obedience training for the dog. She choose the smallest female. A light tan and white girl. Who knew she would become my favorite companion for almost 16 years.

She came home full of fleas! But we soon had her shots and all cleaned up. She had a extreme "alpha" attitude. Would bite if you tried to put your hand near her food, and resisted normal training to be submission to our human pack. But what a bundle of character and energy. It took longer than most dogs for her to learn obedience. Never did learn to return the ball after retrieving it, but that also gave me the greatest giggles over the years.

She would steal the ball from my sheltie's who did not understand the thievery at all! She would strut so proud to have stolen the ball and hope every one would try to take it away from her if they could. I called her bunny butt, and goober for short. She loved to travel and always traveled perfectly quiet. She was a great watch dog, and one of my favorite traits, was that she knew I did not like excessive barking in the back yard, so would try to "hush up" my other dogs if they got too loud. She was fast as lighting on those tiny legs. Full of humor, and a doggie smile.

She would let you dress her up, never came when called for the first 10 yrs of life. But always by your side to lift up your mood, and cuddle by your side in the evenings. She was so smart. I loved how when you took her out to go to the bathroom, she would immediately pee and then poop. No messing around for her! DId her business and was done. Then scratch the dirt for good ole alpha dog portrayal.

She was what we call a "chow hound". Would eat all her dinner every dinner , no matter what you fed her. Pills would be no problem as if you put it in a piece of hotdog it was inhaled at once. She did learn not to bite and always got rave reviews from the vets as too her NOT biting them. Having many corgi's who would.

My favorite memory would probably be the day a outdoor cat we had decided to "love on her". She started to rub this way and that way against My goober, and since goober hated it but knew she had to be nice she sat and curled up her lip and growled the whole time but never moved. I thought I would die laughing!

Alas, this past two years, her heath went downhill. I never knew a dog to fight to live so hard. She would not pay attention to the pain from arthritis. She ate with bad teeth, and she had reactions to any different food. I had to feed her special diets, and take her off flea medications. I used my own organic sprays for her. She lost her sight and hearing. Then her brain would not function as well. She would get lost in the yard. The first time it happened I heard this pitiful howl and it scared me. I picked her up and for the first time in her life she started being afraid. She wanted to stay at my side all the time. Yet was determined to walk on her own. She was still cantankerous over getting a bath or clipping her nails. I had to help her up the stairs and down. I had to lift her outside and inside. She had to stay in a contained area as she peed any where now. But every day I loved her. I was there for her until the day came when I saw the spark was gone from her eyes. I knew then, I had to say good bye. I cried the whole way to the vet office. I held her in my arms, as she went to sleep. She knew, the one who loved her was there. You can not imagine how hard it is to even write about it now one week later. But, It had to be done, and I prefer to be there with my pets when they die now. I know we made a good life for her all these years. She made us laugh, even when days were not happy, Goober would make us laugh.

Corgis are excellent pets, but if you do not like a hair making machine, reconsider. They are very active dogs, and you must know how to train them. Faithful fuzzy butts, lovers of life, tenacious, courageous. I count her as one of my very favorite pets of all time.

No dog, stands out in my life like this one! He had brains, strength and faithfulness like no dog before or since.

He came to us through a family member. My aunt had a purebred Labrador female that although kept in a six foot fenced back yard had been bred by a neighbors Husky. This husky had leapt and crawled over her fence to impregnate her lab. Thus, later she had a litter of pups that she wanted to find homes for.

My son at the time was pretty small, around 1 and 1/2 or 2. Dont remember for sure. But we let him pick out the pup, or as it happened the pup picked him out. I asked Rick, "what name shall we give your new dog?"
Rick, as far we could tell from a child's tongue, was "Oaky" Maybe he was saying OK, but we went with Oaky and it stuck.

As this dog grew up, I found he had a high intelligence, more like a wolf. He was very pack orientated to Rick and I. Loved to fetch of course, and was our constant companion. One summer, Rick and I went on vacation. I suppose it was one of those times we flew out of Alaska and to Oregon. My parents had a ranch in eastern oregon, and it was nice to occasionally fly out to spend a week.

While we were gone, Oaky was to stay with Bob at our home in Wasilla, Alaska. Bob had a small aircraft business at our rural home and in those days our dogs were allowed to run free. No fenced area, just roamed about our 5 acres as he pleased. We had no idea Oaky would be unhappy without Rick and I around. But soon after we left, Bob said he was gone.

Even when we returned a week later, no Oaky. I put up adds in newspapers, and hung notices on boards. A month went by, with some reports of people who saw the dog but we could not get him back. Each time someone would call, the story was about the same:
Yes, we had your dog for awhile. He had this strange thing he did, he would give you his paw to shake when greeting you. I knew it was Oaky when they told me this. Oaky was never taught this, he just did it. But, with each person that saw and fed him for a couple days said he would eat one or two days with them, then was gone. Oaky was looking for his "pack". For Rick and I. Later we got reports that he had become the leader of a pack of wild dogs. This was disturbing to me. Packs in Alaska are known to destroy livestock, and get themselves shot!

Then the day came that someone from Anchorage called my number from the "lost" adds. A full month or so later. He described Oaky to me, and I said, YES! that is my dog! Rick and I drove into Anchorage, to pick him up. He was so excited to see us, and we him. He was again back home, and we thought all would be well. ..............

I was in the kitchen of our rustic home, which was still in the process of being completed. Our vet called to say that they had our dog. I looked out the back door, and did not see Oaky. The vet said to come right away, as he had been shot.
When I got to the vet, I could not believe my dog. Half his face had been blown away! The vet said, a "concerned citizen" had brought him in. He was able to save his life, but his hearing in one ear would be gone. Time would tell is he would heal, and keep his eyesight and be able to eat. He had a rope around his neck. It was not ours.

I doctored his wounds for many days. The vet had to mend as much flesh as he could. Every bone in the one side was smashed or broken from the blast. He must have been shot point blank from a close distance. But Oaky was strong, and with us doctoring him, he healed, though greatly scarred.

In time, the real story came out. We had a angry and problematic neighbor apx. one or more miles down from us. He would turn us in for planes flying to close to his house when they were coming in to land at our home. Bob's business at home was aircraft rebuilding so we had to have planes come in. It was not like homes today, close together, he was miles down from us. However now and then we would turn us in for noise.

He also turned me in for planting a garden on his property. This was so funny, that when the police came out to see what it was about, I walked out our home and showed him my "garden". Now, remember, this guy lived a good mile or more from our place. We are talking about RURAL very rural alaska in the 1970's. This mans land had a pie shaped area out the south side of our place apx 40 feet from our south wall. The previous summer I had attempted to plant some berry bushes out there, not knowing that it fell about one foot on the neighbors property.

The following winter the bushes had died so when the policeman saw what was the"garden" on question he just laughed and left.
This neighbor was a pain. And it turned out he was the culprit that shot our dog! he had lured Oaky into the woods, and his own rope took him to his place where he tried to kill him. But it did not kill him but instead only blew off half his face. His wife, distraught over this, rushed our dog to the vet as the "concerned citizen". Oaky never liked any one to point a camera at him after that. He thought it was a gun, I am sure. He would not run away, but if we took a picture he would look so sad, and I would comfort him and be careful how I took his pictures.
Some people are GITS!

After my husband died, it was interesting to note, that this same neighbor came to me one day. He needed and wanted natural gas at his place. But in order to get it, he would have to get my permission to cross my land. At first he tried to give me this sad sob story of his ailing wife etc. I interrupted him, and said, "I am not doing this for your hardship stories, but because I have been taught to do good at all times. I will allow you to come across my land for natural gas". Needless to say, he was Astonished. After all the harm he did to us, and I would be kind any way back to him.

Oaky was still alive when Bob was killed by a drunk driver that year in 1984. I rented out the Alaska house and moved out to Redmond Oregon.
It was there he did one more great act of protection. As all this time, he was our protector, and companion for the kids (now I had my daughter too) and I. She was just a toddler. I had not noticed her leave the house and go into our pasture. I had two horses out there at the time. One was a somewhat mean horse who would kick and bite.

I looked out the window just as I heard Oaky barking. There was my little daughter, in that pasture and the two horses running straight at her. Like a flash Oaky was under the fence and lunging at the horses, and drove them away from her. He was a amazing dog. And this was just two of his stories!!

Oaky was diagnosed with cancer soon after. He lived only a few months later before we had to put him to sleep. We were just devastated to lose him. I still miss that wonderful dog.

He became known as the horse that Angels protected to me. I had never known a Tennessee Walker before, and after a few cattle rides on scallop and watching Dad on Dareon I Knew why Dad bought him!

If you can imagine in your mind, me going up and down on the most choppy riding bulldozer in the world, and going at the same pace only staying even keel with not so much a quiver was my dad. What I mean is that anyone riding this horse was like riding in a cadillac and I was in a old jeep with no suspension!

Hours of that riding scallop and my young age was no help. I was SORE! Dad would laugh and say, "watcha matter brendy, horse a little rough?

***********************

We were living in eastern Oregon. Kimberly/Monument area. We lived on my Uncle Harold Cork's ranch. A cattle Ranch. Every summer the cows were drove up to the mountains to stay cool and eat.
A long way up there was a cabin everyone used to stay the nights while out checking on cows, or branding calfs. this particular time, we had been out riding the rimrocks looking for cows.
Rimrocks are areas in the mountains that are cliffs. Part shale rock, part grass on steep hillsides. Like tiers. The rocks are loose and easily crumble.

Dad was in front, and I was following. All a sudden Dareon slipped, and as he started falling down the cliff, Dad quickly jumped off and clung to the side of the drop off. The horse tumbled over and over all the way down to the ravine below.

Dad thought for sure he was dead, or so broken up he would have to be shot. After crawling all the way down, there was Dareon, standing and although dirty, not a broken bone anywhere. Dad was able to get back on after a short rest and back to camp.

Come to find out, that horse had a peculiar quirk. Dad said he had been looking up the hill and not ahead. Now most horses will LOOK where they are going and decide to steer clear of obstacles etc. NOT Dareon. IF you did not rein (turn) him he just walked off the cliff. This was what happened that day. Because dad did not rein him to the trail he just walked on over the side!

From that day on, Dad knew to keep his eyes on the road with that horse!

Photo of Dareon next :

He was a gentle horse. He was so pretty, and tall! I admired him but I had my own horse at the time. Dad used him most every day. He was a working horse.

It was one of those days, the men with their horses where going to use a truck to take them to a upper camp. This was a large truck with side boards. The horses would be taken up a wooden ramp used for cows, and into the back of this truck. There were room for at least four horses in there.

After each horse was lead up into the truck and tethered to the sides, the men closed the door in back and got in to go. They had only driven a short ways, when
tragedy stuck!

A neighbor saw the whole thing. The truck was going slow but a piece of paper flew into the back and Dareon got spooked. He broke his lead, jumped straight up and over the 8 foot boards in the back of the truck. As he came down, he hit the pavement hard. He rolled and the man in the field said you could have put a bucket into his shoulder where his bones must have popped out of joint, but he rolled again and out it popped!

The guys stopped immediately, and the farmer ran over to help. Dareon lay on the side of the road in the ditch. His head was up, and he was dazed and scrapped up. After examining him, dad urged him to try and stand. He did. He walked. That horse had NO broken bones. Unbelievable!

He was taken back to the farm , led back I believe. He needed his scrapes doctored but in a couple days he was good as new. The men still do not know how he went from standing in a truck to straight up and over that huge wood back board. Not to mention not be broken up.

Angels protected that horse. Sadly we had to sell him a few years later, I think we were moving again. Never heard how long he lived.

In this photo he is about 18 yrs old. I was riding him just a little. Having flown out of Alaska to visit my parents on the Ranch in Kimberly, Oregon. I still have the bridle he is wearing here. I will never forget this horse.

I got him when I was still in grade school. He was a yearling. A lady had saved him from the herd of horses running in the hills, as I remember. He was very wormy, so much so, it stunted his growth. He never grew very tall, as you can see. I am only 5'4" and I look big on him. The lady had trained him to lead, and got his health back when my parents bought him.

I trained him, (with dad and moms help) to rein, saddle and push cows. I taught him to jump small fences, and could touch him with just my feet to saddle up to a gate and open it, by him going side tracking. This way, I did not have to get off the horse!

He had a heart of faithfulness for me. He was the kind of horse that would have died for you if you asked it. He would go anywhere I asked him.
One day it almost killed us both.

We were living in a small town in Washington. Quincy, I believe. I was new to the area. I rode him daily. He was my best pal. We had been out for about a hour when we came to what looked like a small stream, nothing special. It looked to be about 1 foot of water is all. The land around was sandy, dry.

I decided to cross the stream. But my horse balked. That was weird. He never did that for me. I urged him anyway. Being young, and foolish, I should have listened to my horse and inspected that water better.

When he stepped into the stream, we sank. It was like quicksand. He sank to the top of his withers, (shoulders) and was fighting to get his nose up. With me on, it was really sinking him, so I bailed off! I was not concerned for me, I fought to stay afloat and kept the reins in my hand. Miraculously I found footing on the far right of my horse. He was continuing to fight for air.

He went under a couple times, and I was pulling on his reins with all my might and praying to God through tears pouring down my cheeks. God please don't let him drown, please HELP me!!

Now Horses can swim and I knew he could, but the sand was sucking him under.
I did not give up, and God helped me that day. For all a sudden, He listened to me, and started to paw toward me in the middle of the stream, where some solid ground was. As he got up with me, He stood, shaking. I then, carefully found a path out of the sink hole to the dry ground.

Once there, I took off his saddle and blanket, and rubbed him down. We both dried in the sun for about a hour. He was ok. I was ok. I too,could have been killed. If not from the sinking sand, but from the panicked horse. But we both trusted each other so much, it saved us. God saved us, by finding that one little area for us to stand. Funny, as I write this, this is true you know. God is the one area to stay, for all else is sinking sand.

NOTE:
If you are ever riding a horse and you either fall with your horse into water, and the horse is trying to swim, you are best to slide off the rear of your horse and hold tight to his tail. Let the horse swim to shore. He will get you there. Do not sink your horse by staying on, unless you are really light. Do NOT slide off and try to swim next to your horse for if you have a panicked horse they may try to get on You! and drown you.

My little white horse lived to be about 25 years old. He was later put to sleep when he could no longer bear the pain of poor legs or eat well. I will miss him forever.

I raised a small herd of sheep for a few years in Redmond Oregon. Each year, I had a regular "lamb gang" we called them. Lambs are the most precious little things, and so cuddly. They would all gather together in groups when able to run, and if there was anything to climb on that is what a lamb wants to do. They play, King of the Mountain! Everyone trying to be the highest.

I had a large horse tough, for watering. I covered most of the trough with wood planks so the sheep would NOT fall into it. But I had this one lamb that as I went out one day, was in the tank. He was almost dead from struggling to swim, but could not get himself out. It was cold out. I took his little limp body inside. My mother had said that to revive a cold lamb was to give him a spoon full or two of whiskey along with drying him off and putting him by the fireplace.

This worked! In a few days, he was up and ready to go out side. Of which the very next day, ..... You guessed it. He was again drowning in the tank. Again we had to repeat the saving lamb method with whiskey.

We figured he developed a taste for that whiskey and wanted more. Amazingly he grew up just fine. And NO more whiskey breaks!

She is a black and shiny youngster, and belongs to Ann Edwards. Ann adopted her from a organization that places kittens and cats here in Coos Bay, Oregon. She is Ann's only pet.

This is a recent pet episode and just happened last week:

I had been given the opportunity to pet sit Shadow for few days, while Ann traveled to Portland. During this time, Ann left me a note as to what things to do while she was absent. One of the items to do was to occasionally give her cat a treat. Four pieces. But I could not understand the instructions. I was looking for a white sink or something where the treats were. But the treats were clearly on the top of the refrigerator.

So, I got the treats and put them on top of her food in her cat bowl. As I was walking to the front door, the funniest thing happened. Here came Shadow with some of her treats in her mouth, she went right over to the little stand in front of the sink and laid them on the shelf. THEN, she ate them.

DUH! Then it clicked, that was were I was to feed her the treats. I misunderstood the instructions, it was NOT Where the treats were, but where to put them for her! Ann always feeds her treats in that one place.

Thus this very smart cat told me in cat language, "stupid lady, this is where the treats are to be for me to eat"

I laughed and laughed. What a smart kitty and I got the message !

Shadow came to us, as a puppy. He was a full collie. My daughter was young, as you can see in the photo. She loves animals as much as I do. He was a as laid back as you can be for a dog. He was tender and watched over Tirzah, my daughter.

This one day, she had been quiet too long. As any parent knows, if 10-15 minutes goes by and it is quiet, you need to check and see what they are up too.

There she was sitting on the floor with shadow lying there unmoving and quiet. She was brushing and cutting his hair. What amazes me, is that dog never made one sound, and when I looked closer, she had accidently cut his skin in at least three spots around the neck. She did not notice, she was young, and her companion pal , Shadow would never growl or bite her. So he endured the pain for his love of her.

When I showed her what she had done, she was in tears, and I did not scream at her or over react. It was a accident, but I did confirm that if I want the dogs hair cut, I will have to be there to supervise!

Shadow was my hero . I have found many animals, seem to understand when youngsters are around and will act more gentle with them.

But let me WARN you too: MOST animals will bite your little ones if their hair is pulled or your children try to touch their food. So never leave children alone with animals you do not know for sure how they will react!

Fuzzy Balls, are the top of her list of favorite things. She loves to cuddle, and go for walks. The car is Defiantly the place to protect and being on schedule is of upmost importance to this little dog. Never misses the hour to be fed, or go on walk, or to get up! I never seen a dog so precise in knowing what time it is!

She loves the oddest thing too, She loves to tickle her teeth on the metal tags of her collar when you take it off. You dangle the collar in front of her, and it gives her great joy to grab the metal tags, and do this little bite bite bite in quick succession on them. Oh weird is that! ;-) She LOVES it. It is a ritual to do this every time!

And of course the sheltie rub. This must be done every evening against the couch, my bed, anywhere in the house or back yard. This is where she rubs her body against a object back and forth. As if to say, "ok, this is mine, and this, and this, as this is my home where I am happy!

Her registered name has the words "wings of a dove" in it. I just call her jojo. I was so blessed to be able to adopt her from a Superb Breeder who was retiring her. She had completed her American and Canadian titles, and was excellent at agility.

Even tho she had fame, I just wanted a walking and live in companion to be with me and my aging corgi. Jo Jo is 11 years old. My corgi is 14 now. And she has given me a great time together. We travel everywhere , these dogs and I. I never worried about someone getting into my car when I stopped at rest stops while driving as she was instantly on guard! ;-)

She is the gentlest of dogs though. She loves everyone, and is so beautiful! A blue merle is the color and she is small. Never had a accident in the house, super smart.

I noticed a few weeks ago just a tiny drop in the amount of food she was eating. Then I noticed a tiny drop in how much she ran along the fence chasing after cats going by or cars. At first check over I noticed a small swelling along her rectum. This was prob. a plugged scent gland I thought. So I took her in to the vet, fully expecting that was all it was.

The vet was young, so she took her back to a older vet, for a second opinion. After a long time, she came out and started to give me this detailed account of how it was this certain type of tumor, and all the tech. aspects of this tumor, and the various things that could be done but all I heard was that my dog was terminal. It did not matter if they removed it, it would aggressively grow back. No matter if drugs were given to shrink it ,....(maybe, it would shrink it)....Drugs all have SIDE effects but in the end, it would kill her.

Finally I just interrupted the vet, and wept. I took her home to think about this. I emailed Pam (who I adopted her from), and with her impute and my life long experience raising animals, I decided the most humane and best decision for HER, would be to keep her as comfortable and pampered as I can, and after she is no long happy, or can not poop or pee, or play, ....

I will take her to the vet, I will hold on to her with her fuzzy ball, and have them administer the shot that will put her to sleep. She will die in the arms of the one person she loves and trusts. This will hurt me deeply, but it will give her the life of happiness with as little pain and suffering as can be done.

A lot of people will do whatever surgery, whatever drugs to prolong a animals life as long as they can. This is really for the humans need to keep the animal with them a bit more, it is not for the best in regards to the pet. IMHO.

I have had to do this before, it never gets any easier. Maybe even harder as I get older. But I am sure this is best for my dear little companions.

Joanna, dog of my heart
You brought me such joy
and companionship each
day upon this earth.

Your heart was filled with
leaps and bounds of energy
Your faithful love knows no end.

You would never leave me,
and I will not leave you.
I will be there for you
no matter the pain, we share that too.

Faithful friend I give you to God.
He will determine the length of days left.

I will be joyful for the time we have left
and the time we have enjoyed!
Praise and Glory to God who made this
little friend for me to share joy.

I am sorry, I can write no more, the tears are too much.
I will go now and spend time with my joanna for as long as God gives.

Today, while waiting with my other dog, to be washed at the groomers, Joanna, passed away in her sleep. Both dogs were resting, with a groomer right above them. She said, she just looked down and Joanna was gone.

I had this morning, just dreamed that I saw Joanna standing on the "Outside" of my chain linked back yard. She was looking at me, as if to say, I don't want to go, but I must. I am in Gods care now, good bye.

When I woke, I went to feed the dogs and she ate her morning meal of special cooked good things, and I took them (corgi and her)to the groomers. She was slow, but walked and seemed ok. She did NOT want to leave me, which was unlike her. I had just gotten to my art group of friends for coffee when the call came. Joanna, gorgeous, kind and gentle Joanna, peacefully died in her sleep.

Although my pain is intense, my tears fall freely. I know, that God had mercy on us both. She is in His care now. free of all worldly things, and who knows, Maybe all my pets that have passed on, shall be with me, in that new life that God promises to His Children after Death. To all those who believe and follow Him, there is a Hope and a Future.

by Kenneth C. Poertner

" Satan, a giant brahma-Shorthorn Cross Steer, owned by Mr and Mrs Jack Mericle of Kuna, Idaho. The steer, a veteran of many fairs and western show exhibitions, weighs in at 4600 pounds and stands six feet high at the shoulder. He is 13 feet 8 inches from nose to the base of tail: his horn spread is 50 inches from tip to tip. The gentle giant normally eats 140 pounds of hay each day--an average steer consumes 40 pounds a day--and drinks 50 gallons of water in hot weather.

He was saved from the slaughterhouse by the affection of the Mericles' daughter, Tammy, Satan demonstrated his gratitude by an unusual rate of growth from 2 years of age.

Last night I was watching a show on chickens.

They interviewed this one minister who talked about how when your a child, and your called a chicken, it is meant that you were weak, or scared. But he tells a story of this one chicken he had.

She was a white banty, with the fur like feathers. Lily was her name. Lily wanted to hatch her own chicks. She would lay eggs in the nest and sit on them, but the larger chickens would come in and chase her out of the nest. She tried helping the larger chickens with their chicks when they were hatched, but they beat her up.

So one day he built her, her own nest, she laid eggs in it and then a coon came in and destroyed all her eggs. She was becoming frantic to have her own chicks, her feathers were starting to look ragged from all the stress. She paced back and forth by the nests clucking, wanting so badly to hatch her own.

So he built her this really nice chicken house a just for her, out in the yard. It was so cute and pretty. He put her in it and she laid six eggs. She diligently sat on them and finally they hatched. She was an excellent mother, very patient and loving.
Finally she wanted to take them outside and after a few days he reluctantly let her. He said she was the perfect mother. She guarded them and took them to the best places in the yard to find bugs to eat. Taught them all the basic chicken things like digging in the dirt, and kept them away from all the other chickens. She was the absolute best mother hen he had ever seen.

One day while he was looking out his kitchen window he noticed all the chickens stopped dead in their tracks, then they ran for cover. Lily ran towards her little chicken house, and he looked up and saw a hawk.
At the same time both he and Lily noticed the chicks had not followed her towards the little house in the yard. As he rushed towards the door she rushed back to her chicks. She quickly gathered them under her and laid down close over them.

As as if leaving everything into Gods hands, she sat over them very still. The hawk came dowm and pounched on her. AS the man got out to the yard he saw her lifeless body laying there and the hawk was gone.
He slowly went up to her and thought how she had paid the ultimate sacrifice of giving her own life to save her chicks. One little chick slowly came out from under her left wing, safe and sound.
He reached down to pick up Lily and low and behold she was alive. Her fluffy feathers were so thick that the hawk was unable to penatrate them to cause her death. She never moved until her owner had reached for her. Playing dead to protect those babies at all costs.
Not only the best mother hen , but the bravest as well.

Actually it was only as a kitten she rode motor bikes. As the story before I got her goes, she was a orphan kitten. A young run away boy picked her up and she would sit quietly in his bag, as he rode all over on his bike. This was in Alaska at the time.

Later the boy returned home and the parents did not want the cat. A lady I knew, picked her up, but she could not keep her and she came with her to me. I had just lost my husband in a drunk driving accident. Had two small children, three dogs and was not looking to care for a cat.

But, Loving animals as I did, and like she said, who was going to take her. The lady who brought her to me, was flying out of state for good. She could not keep her, and only other option was the pound.

I took her.

She immediately became super special. She was more dog than cat. Must have been that early life on motorbikes and hanging with the rough crowd. She was tough, but gentle too. She did not want to be held, or did she constantly rub on you for attention. She never bothered my plants, and always was clean.

She would follow me everywhere and put up with the kids. If any one of us were sick she would not leave the foot of our beds.

If I drove into town, she was out the door and would wait at the driveway until I came home.

We flew out of Alaska a few yrs later. Two kids, three dogs and the cat. The rental car in Seattle was suppose to be a wagon. But they had a major blizzard that year so only had a compact. I also had my brother with me. So three dogs, two kids, myself, my brother and a cat all crammed into a subcompact car and drove through the blizzard to Redmond Oregon. Cat and dogs were just fine all piled on top of suitcases in the back seat with Rick my son.

It was in Oregon, that this unusual story of autumn takes place.

I had been on my little farm a couple years. I now had three dogs, two horses the two kids and the cat. To keep the horses in, we put up a electric fence. It was important to check the fence every other day and make sure the current was working.
It had rained the night before and I did not put on shoes to go out to the barn. I noticed something amiss at the gate and went to open it. I grasped the rubber handle to disengage the hot wire. But some how the current got me full force. Wet grass no doubt. Any ways, I was hit with so much electricity, I could not let go of the wire and was being shocked. I noticed as if in slow motion my cat trying to attack the horses that stood by or running at them, and back to me.
I fell to the ground, and this ripped the wire handle from my hands. Thus, breaking the connection.

I had torn flesh from the handle but was otherwise ok. The cat was there at my side. I really think she heard my scream, and she thought the other critters were the cause! She was coming to my rescue. Amazing. I have never had a cat act that way.

She lived to be pretty old. Then one day, she could not walk and was crying . I took her to a vet, where we learned she had a prob. in her spine. Something with old age and we had to put her to sleep. She was my favorite cat of all the cats I have ever owned.

1962. It was said by the seller that he did fancy foot work in shows. We never saw it. He was half welsh, half morgan. Full stubborn!

He did however teach me a lot for my first horse.
#1. You the rider, must be in control
#2. Never take it for granted your horse will go where reined. Pay attention!
#3. You must be smarter than the horse.

I have a large scar on the back of my head from scallop, my mom lost her front tooth from him. He was not mean, just smart and would do anything to get out of being ridden or going where he was suppose to go. He wanted to be at home where the food was.

We had a hard time keeping his weight to normal. Easy keeper they called Him.
I received the blow to the head while riding bareback. I was in a gallop toward someplace when suddenly, scallop decided Nope, going home. I fell hard on my head. He left me in the dust.

Mom lost her teeth because he also had a nasty habit of throwing his head if he was not liking where he was going, and she did not notice fast enough. Boom, right in the face.

Can't say I ever missed him when we sold him. Only Pet I never missed. I sold him so I could buy a little half Arabian gelding. That horse is my favorite horse/pet of all time. His story coming up next time.!

This was taken on the Kimberly Ranch. The working Ranch was hard work, but a good life. These days are gone, or almost gone. Small Ranches can not make it any more. Unless you have tons of money coming from elsewhere.
Things change, life goes on. We cannot hold back the time. We either make changes too, or we shall cease to exist. One cannot stagnate, we must keep learning and making adjustments. Look to new ways, and new opportunities. My dad could not change, he hated the way the world had become. Although I am sad he is gone, I know he is much happier where he is now. The computer age, and the decaying morality of today was too much for this old timer.