When we were children, we visited our father’s family in West Virginia each year. My two brothers and I looked forward to the vacation and have many memories of the fun we had  riding in a red wagon as it rolled down little hills that looked gigantic to us as youngsters, playing on a home made swing in the huge tree in the front yard, turning over rocks to find copperhead and rattle snakes, and hiking the mountains behind our grandparents’ home. In the evenings we joined Grandma and aunts and uncles on a yard swing and talked for hours. All great fun for young children.

Grandma cooked on a coal stove. I have one particular memory of sitting at the dinner table with relatives and my family as Grandma served scrumptious chicken and dumplings. I wanted more and more. She also made banana pudding with vanilla cookies.

When I was grown, my family relocated to West Virginia- to a farm very close to my grandparents’ farm. The scenery seemed different. The hills in grandma’s yard looked smaller and smaller each year and the swing ropes looked shorter and shorter. My parents became farmers as they planted a large garden and had horses, pigs, and chickens. Often my mother had injured animals in the house. One visit she had a chicken with an injured leg in the house which most of the time she kept in a cage. She let the hen  roam the house occasionally.

One day, my brother and I were sitting on the couch in the living room talking. We hardly noticed the chicken strutting casually around the house. He proudly shook the rattle of a dead rattlesnake he found a few days earlier and, as we listened to the ‘rattle, suddenly, the chicken (who was supposed to be injured) jumped up, grabbed the rattle from my brother’ s hand, and ran away with it. Running as fast as she could, darting back and forth, into the kitchen with her little eyes wide with excitement.

Immediately, my brother jumped off the couch and ran after that chicken. I laughed as I watched him chasing that little chicken until he caught her and recovered his rattle. After he had time to settle  down, we laughed and have been telling the story for years.

I have many precious memories of visits to family in West Virginia- we called it Almost Heaven.

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My first dog was a Doberman – German Shepherd mix. My family was offered this ‘male’ dog and my parents said yes. We excitedly decided to name ‘him’ Sam.

When Sam arrived, we discovered ‘he’ was a ‘she.’ We decided to keep her name, but call her Samantha- Sam for short.

She was instantly part of the family. I played in the yard with her – teaching her to fetch, sit, stay, run squirrels up trees and poles, and knew the joy of owning a dog. Mom used her to babysit the younger children. She accompanied my brothers to the woods near our home daily. One of her best talents was to hide quietly under the table at dinner time. This came in handy when mom made liver. We hated liver, Sam loved liver. When mom wasn’t looking, Sam took care of business and never told on us. Everyone was a winner.

One day Sam became mopey and would not eat. My parents took her to a veterinarian. I heard the word “distemper.” Distemper is a disease in dogs caused by a virus that attacks the intestines of affected animals and causes vomiting, diarrhea, not wanting to eat, and being very sick. The distemper virus can travel to the brain. When this happens, seizures may develop and there is very little chance the dog will survive.

I was worried and, when I am worried, I cry. We forced Sam to eat by using a turkey baster to give her baby cereal. After about a week, she began to recover and was herself again. Dogs may become ill after exposure to other dogs with this virus or other animals such as raccoons carrying the virus.

There is a vaccine available to dog owners to prevent distemper. Vaccinating is the best method of preventing the major diseases in dogs. In addition to distemper, vaccines are available for rabies, hepatitis, leptospirosis, kennel cough, and parvo. After seeing the devastating effects of disease in the dogs I loved, I am a believer in vaccines. I have vaccinated every dog, cat, horse, and goat since that time.

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Many of us have a favorite Superhero whose super powers we admire – Superman with his ability to fly, super strength, and the ability to leap from tall buildings,  Spiderman with his ability to scale tall buildings, swing from building to building, tie the bad guys up with his webs, or Batman in his bat-mobile fighting crime in Gotham city.  What they have in common is they use their super powers for good.

In real life, I see superheroes all around. I met some of them in the halls of long term care facilities and patient rooms. I witnessed their superpowers of love and kindness as I spotted them fixing the ladies hair, picking out favorite outfits, making sure the men were shaved, and doing every other little task to make these residents’ lives nice. I saw them singing to patients, playing games, reading to some, sitting beside windows and talking for hours, and feeding others.

Other superheroes I have come to know are moms and dads of special needs children struggling with various physical conditions- from muscular dystrophy to paralysis to cerebral palsy and more. Parents and grandparents who care for these children day after day have always made me appreciate how love drives those in life to do what others may consider difficult or impossible. These heroes care for their little ones – taking them to frequent doctor or hospital visits, going through all the ups and downs of medical issues that arise, and kiss them and love them all day long.

Some superheroes care for aging parents or mates or injured family members day after day. One superhero came to my life as a friend. His wife later told me how he felt I was alone and he wanted them to ‘take me under their wings.’  They frequently invited me to dinner and walks in the park, made wooden jumping poles for my horses, shared every achievement with me, bought equipment they knew me and my horses would cherish, drove me and my injured horse to the veterinary clinic in Columbus, Ohio, and were there for me in many, many ways. Over the years I realized I never recognized the love I was shown specially by my friends. They were superheroes sent to make my life better.

Many make sacrifices and consider their care routine and just part of each day. I have come to realize that sometimes we do not change situations. Disability is still present, worsening medical conditions, addictions, struggles, etc, may remain but we have the ability to use our superpowers of love and kindness and patience and hard work to ease the suffering and struggle of others.

One favorite story I remember goes like this  – a man was walking down the road and happened upon a robin lying on its back, with its feet in the air.  “Little Robin, why are you lying on your back in the middle of the road?” the man asked. “The sky is falling, the sky is falling!” the Robin replied. “But why are your feet sticking up in the air?” the man pressed. “Because,” said the little bird, “one must do what one can.”

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Draft horses are beautiful, but it is no understatement- they are BIG.

I was asked to a farmer’s home to anesthetize a yearly draft horse so an Amish man could perform a castration surgery. This was a little irregular, but I understood. Amish are skilled at certain tasks, however, they have no way of obtaining medications for anesthesia. This owner wanted my help for this.

It was the first time  I was asked to drop a horse in a stall – what we refer to as giving anesthesia and laying the horse on the ground. I usually chose to do the surgery on large grassy areas or in open indoor arenas with soft, dry footing – my reasons for doing so are these areas are easier to work in as well as if the horse falls on the ‘right’ side, they can be flipped to the ‘left’ side by grabbing the hooves and all at once, flipping him. The ‘side’ the horse falls on is important because if the surgeon is right handed, the instruments come into the scrotal area from behind and any possible injury to the genitals is avoided.

I estimated the weight of the yearly colt to be approximately 2,200 pounds and administered my sedation medication followed by short acting anesthetic medication. As bad luck would have it, he proceeded to drop on his right side and could not be flipped in the small stall. The Amish man was as uncomfortable about the horse being on his right side as I am, so he and the owner asked me to complete the castration.

Immediately I ran to my truck and quickly opened the compartments, grabbed my bucket and emasculator (the tool used to castrate the horse), some soap and sponges, a blade, gloves, and some water and ran back to the horse. I prepped the skin of the scrotum and began surgery. I made my first incision over the right testicle but when I tried to remove it, the muscle that raises and lowers the testicle in the scrotum was pulling harder than I was able to pull. I pulled with all my strength and couldn’t remove that testicle. Since this wasn’t working, I had the not so bright idea to try removing the other testicle. I couldn’t remove that one either. I could only imagine what the two men watching were thinking.

I quit trying, leaned up against the stall wall, and told the owner I needed to let him stand and give him a second dose of anesthesia. Luckily, he fell on his left side this time and as I began to castrate him, I saw the wood shavings used as bedding in his stall covering the incisions I made earlier. I hesitated for a moment and thought ‘fabulous,’ tried to clean as much of the shavings off as I could, and continued the surgery, ignoring for the moment this complication that could lead to infection.

After struggling to remove those testicles, I finally finished the surgery. I stood, exhausted and shaking. The owner was sweet and smiled as he patted me on the shoulder, and said,  “You did it!” I was certainly glad it was over and I am sure he was too.

The colt’s surgery was on Thursday. When I arrived back at work the following Monday, during our morning reports to the boss, my fellow vet said he ran into a horse owner on Saturday who said he just came from a horse funeral – a recently castrated Belgian yearly. I sat speechless and sure I had misunderstood. The color drained from my face and I think my heart almost stopped. My fellow vet was unable to keep a straight face and then said, ‘He said to tell her (me) he was just kidding – and tell Teri she did a great job.’ I was relieved to know the horse was okay, but not as amused as the men. They thought they were very funny. I probably would have thought it was all pretty funny too if it happened to someone else. Funny how that is sometimes.

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I reflect on the Words in the Bible  – if anyone else is god- serve them, but as for me and my house, we will serve the Living God- the Lord – the Resurrected One this Easter.

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I found another pup to add to the family- a Sheltie I named Alex. It always amazes me how fast one can fall in love with a little guy -I estimate about 2.7 seconds or less.

One afternoon, when Alex was young, we gardened together. He walked in and out of the flower beds as I tried to plant and fertilize. While focusing on the flowers, I lost track of Alex. When I discovered  he wasn’t with me, I frantically shouted his name and searched the yard. I checked everywhere- including the street in front of our home and the roads into the grounds where we lived, but did not find him. 

With my mind racing and my heart pounding, I started up the porch steps to phone for help. Suddenly, I stopped half way up the steps because there, sitting at the top of the steps, wagging his tail, sat my Alex. As I scooped him up in my arms and kissed his little face, I told him how worried I was and how happy I was that he was not lost after all. I told him how he scared his mommy. I should have known-  already having a Sheltie – that Shelties never leave you. Where you are, they are. 

When Alex was about 3 years old, he developed a stone in his bladder from minerals in his diet. I surgically removed it, however, the condition went unnoticed for a while. When he appeared to be passing urine, very little or none came out due to the stone obstructing the flow of urine. I believe the blockage injured his kidneys because when Alex was about 7 years old, his kidneys began to fail to do their job.

In human medicine, patients are offered dialysis to filter their blood when their kidneys are not doing so. This may be available now at specialty clinics, but was not well developed when Alex’s kidneys failed to do their job. Alex accompanied me everywhere so I could give him medications and fluids as needed as well as being near me comforted him. I was committed to racing and training horses at the racetrack 2-3 times a week and was aware that taking a dog into the racetrack could result in a $250.00 fine, but I couldn’t leave him at home.  

When we went into the race track, Alex rested on the passenger seat beside me out of view. But, when I took my race horse from the prep barn to the track, I saw Alex sitting in the driver’s seat looking out the window. As I passed I said, “Alex, you’re blowing our cover. Everyone can see you.” Luckily, no one seemed to notice and we were never fined. 

Even after several months of diligent care, and trying to figure a way to help Alex, the day came I could see that we were not on the winning side of Alex’s kidney disease. It was one of the saddest days of my life to say good- bye to that wonderful little dog. When these beautiful creatures come into our lives they bring happiness and love and time seems to fly by until that dreadful day. Saying good-bye is always heartbreaking. They say it’s part of the deal. The more you love something or someone, the more it hurts to say good- bye. The only other option is to not love- and that is not an option I wish to choose. I will always have memories of Alex to make me happy for the time we had together. 

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My Aunt’s name was Mildred. Some called her Millie. As children, we couldn’t say Mildred or Millie, so we called her Aunt Moddy. She was young at heart and drove a red Mustang. She told fascinating stories of giving children free ice cream cones when she worked at an ice cream stand. We never knew if her stories were true, but we loved hearing them.

Aunt Moddy filled our lives with laughter and fun, but when she was older, she became sick with cancer. After treatment, she lost her hair and wore wigs. When I visited her in the nursing home she went to live in, she sat on the side of her hospital bed laughing and talking- telling stories – continuing to make everyone smile and laugh. Looking back, she was brave and as I watched her grow weaker and weaker, I remember thinking how sad life is at moments.

As children, life was simple. We went to school, did homework, played after school, made friends, watched TV, and dreamed of being older. Older people had money and could go wherever they wanted, stay up late, and do all the things we dreamed of doing. We thought everything would be great when we were finally ‘older.’ The Beach Boys even sang a song, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older…”

Since becoming older, I wish I could sit and have a chat with the adults from my childhood. I would tell them they how distressed I am because they made life look so simple and uncomplicated. They never seemed strained or worried. Time just seemed to go by easily as they did the things adults do. Now I see it all differently.

Sometimes life is filled with love and laughter and hard work pays off and all is well with the world. Other times life is challenging with sorrow and loss and grief and struggle. The longer I live, the more I have said good – bye to beloved family members and friends and pets. I have watched treasured friends falter into memory losses and struggle with health issues. Some close to me have struggled with addiction or sorrow and personal loss. As we are older, there are mortgages, car payments, bills, good and bad relationships, responsibilities- all can be challenging events in a day to day life.

Good friends and family are priceless to me because they help me muddle through the ups and downs of life.  As I share with them, they share with me. It is comforting to know ‘I am not alone.’ We share many of the same struggles, the same ups and downs, the same happy and sad times as many of those around us. We’re in this together.

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We were having trouble racing. Our young horses were in training and hadn’t started racing and some of our girls were hurt and couldn’t race. We were newbies and others made us feel as if we did not have the talent to train a horse to race. This spurred us on to prove them wrong. We could do it! We knew we could train a horse to pace around a track with a driver in a little race bike behind them.

Some friends had many horses and offered to let us finish training one of theirs. We took Mystical Buffy on lease. If I ever had a decision to do over again, I would have purchased her. The original promise was that if we wanted her, we could have her for $1500.00. We thought this was fair.

She was a feisty girl and floated when she paced. Her daddy was a well known horse named Albert Albert. This impressed the other horsemen because folks in the racing world know every mare and stallion that ever lived. When Buffy was ready to race, her first race was at a fair. She did not win, however, she paced fast enough to qualify to race at the racetrack. Horses wanting to race were required to complete a qualifying race or a race at a fair in a minimum race time so slow horses or horses that were not prepared to race did not risk injury to themselves or others.

The first night Buffy raced at the racetrack, she won. We were elated. We had proved we could train a horse to race and win! Winning gave you the privilege of strutting around like you just won the Kentucky Derby when it was just a small race most never knew was won. It was gratifying though. An added bonus was that the racetrack video taped all the races and offered them to owners. We purchased Buffy’s WIN video.

Victory was sweet, but short lived. We lost the next ten races – we didn’t even finish in the money for any of these races- the first 5 finishers receive money. We were back to discouraged.

One night I noticed my training partner watching Buffy’s only WIN video in our living room. He kept playing it over and over. Others had many win videos, we just had one. A little sorrow swept over me. I wanted to tell him we would win again and have more videos. I wanted to tell him it would be ‘ok.’ I didn’t say a word and he just kept watching the race over and over.

After a long losing streak, I pleaded with a talented driver to drive Buffy. I told him a little fib – that I knew another talented driver that recommended him. He was skeptical, but agreed to drive for us. She won! I was so excited that, when I took the horse from him and went to jump on the race bike to drive her to the win barn, I fell on the track. He giggled. I asked him if he would drive for us again and promised to fall off the race bike again if that would help him decide. He did and she went on to win many races for us.

When we made the offer to buy Buffy for the original price  – after doing the training and the care-  the owners more for her. We were disappointed and returned her to her original owners.

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If I could write another caption for this photo, it would read, “Where ya been?” -as our pets sit, waiting for us to come over to other side.

Do animals go to heaven? I do not profess to know the absolute answer to this question, but I have opinions and I think there is a heaven and think animals go there. I think I am not alone in my thinking.

In defense of my argument, I am a believer in the Bible and God put more animals on the Ark than He did people. Also, animals are indisputably some of His greatest creations. They have life and love with their whole hearts and being.

There are so many amazing creatures – the colorful birds, elephants, giraffes, zebras, horses, whales, manatees, sea turtles, and of course, our beloved cats and dogs. What would heaven (if you believe in heaven as I do) be like without them? They are here, why wouldn’t they be there?

I often share a story with my clients that goes something like this-  One day, while watching TV, a TV host shared a story of a little boy who seemed sad on his show. He asked the boy, “Why so sad.”

The little boy said, “My dog just died.”

The host said sympathetically, “Well, doesn’t it help to know he’s in heaven with God?”

The little boy looked up at him with a puzzled face and asked, “What would God want with a dead dog?”

We laugh. Apparently, the concept of life after this life for his dog apparently evaded this young man, but the question still remains, ‘do all dogs really go to heaven?’ My vote is  ‘yes.’ We will all find out one day.

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Like many girls, I have always loved horses. When I was a young girl, my mother arranged for me to work at a horse farm on Saturdays in exchange for time riding. When I started working on the farm, the owner was home and directed my work. When I finished, she chose a safe horse for me to ride in a small riding ring near her barn. These were treasured memories and the riding thrilled me beyond words.

One Saturday, she was away at a horse show. I cleaned all twenty stalls in the barn – a huge accomplishment for a young girl. There were llamas in one stall and when I opened the door to clean their stall, they rushed past me and ran out of the stall into the horse pasture. I knew I needed to return them to their stall, so without thinking, I opened the pasture gate to herd them out of the pasture. Bad plan. Not only did the llamas come, seeing the open gate, the horses stampeded past me running into and through the barn to a field behind the barn. They were free and I could not stop them. What a disaster!

I had no idea what to do. I thought I lost all the horses. How would I explain this? Then, suddenly, they turned and headed back to the barn. Later I learned this is a usual behavior for horses to stay where they are fed. Happy to have them return, most ran back into the pasture. A few horses ran into stalls in the barn. I was able to return them to the pasture easily. The disaster that started with the llamas escaping ended with them returning to their stall.

When the owner came home, there was no trace of the trouble I had, however, she was amazed  at the work I had done. She knew how much work went into cleaning all those stalls, but It didn’t seem like work to me. I was in heaven being around the horses all day and looking forward to a few minutes in the saddle. To tell the truth, I would have done twice the number of stalls to ride. She called my mother and made arrangements for me to spend the night because she had a surprise for me.

I was excited thinking of which horse she would choose for me to ride and how fun it would be to be to walk and trot in the small arena, but the surprise had nothing to do with riding. She took me to a car race.  All I can remember is how bored I was sitting in the bleacher seats alone shivering, eating a candy bar, and watching those cars drive around and around the track. My mother never took me to her barn again, but eventually I owned my own horses and was able to ride any time I wanted.

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