This blog is dedicated to my friend, my mentor, and the best teacher I have ever had. Without him, I would not have embarked on this amazing journey. Split, this blog is for you!
Ponderosa Misty Icon, aka "Split," is a handsome gray Welsh pony who came to me via a phone call "out of the blue" (actually Peterborough, Ontario). Our first few months together were rocky to say the least, which made me question my ability as a horse owner, as a horsewoman, and as a rider. Forty years of horse ownership had not prepared me for this little gray pony!
But we muddled through and because of Split, I have begun a journey that is both spiritual and enlightening. I hope something here resonates with you and that you'll check back now and then.
We leave you with one of our favorite quotes: "The best whisper is a click!"

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Can You Stand One More..................

.....story about how my pets found me?
After Toby died, my grandparents didn't go in search of another dog. But one came in search of them! A female yellow lab limped up their driveway one morning and just made herself at home. Nana and Grandpa tried to find her owner but no one ever came forward so they named their new dog "Cindy" and made her a part of the family. Cindy was another dog with whom I "clicked" instantly. (I do believe in love at first sight!) She would do all sorts of tricks for me and I was the only one who could get her to "speak." I'd raise my hand in the air lightly and say, "Speak, Cindy!" and she'd let out this big old bark. No one else could get her to do that, even if they imitated my body language. She'd just look at them as though thinking, "Idiot," and ignore them. I went off to college and then got married but I still visited my grandparents as often as possible, spending much of my time with them just sitting with Cindy or taking her for long walks. Cindy died in 1980, I believe, and by then I was convinced that my next dog (after Zack, that is) would be a yellow lab. Life, as it turns out, had other plans..............
We got Molly just before Zack died. Molly was a gift from a well-known breeder of field trial springers (a friend of John's family) and was a small, hyper, unpredictable sort of dog. I never connected with her at all and it turns out that she wasn't that great a hunter, either. Despite my husband's best attempts at training her, she was determined to do things her own way. She would often run away and we wouldn't see her for days at a time and then suddenly there she'd be, sitting our our kitchen step, patiently waiting to be let into the house. She thought nothing of biting anyone who came to our door although she was patient with our children. Molly was a "trial" springer, alright!
My grandmother died on Dec. 5, 1995; Molly died Dec. 24, 1995. And there I was with no grandmother and no dog............
Just before Christmas that year, my mom phoned to say that Nana had left each of us grandchildren $500 and we would be getting a check in the mail shortly. I received mine and put it in a drawer, not sure what I would do with the money.
New Year's day 1996 my brother-in-law called to tell us that after 18 months of research, he'd found a breeder of yellow and black labs up in Maine and had just agreed to purchase a puppy from him. The breeder had one yellow lab pup left and Steve (B-I-L) remembered how I always said I wanted a yellow lab so he thought he'd mention it since Molly had just died...........Were we interested? We called the breeder and yes, he had one yellow lab left, a female. Price? $500!! Coincidence? I THINK NOT! John turned to me and said, "Are you willing to spend your grandmother's money on a yellow lab?" WILLING??
My grandmother had arranged all this! WILLING??? This was my grandmother's last gift to me!! And that's how Sassy came into our lives. She was another of my anam caras.
She died a year ago, at the age of 14. She lives on in my heart. I sense her presence when the geese are honking on the pond in the spring (she loved to chase them!), when the leaves turn colors in the fall (she loved to go for walks with me), and when I'm out snowshoeing in the winter (she loved to lay in the snow and roll and roll and roll....). She's there........somewhere...........always and forever............

Soon or later, every dog's master's memory becomes a graveyard; peopled by wistful little furry ghosts that creep back unbidden, at times, to a semblance of their olden lives.

Albert Payson Terhune

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