One of my cherished memories was an annual Christmas gift of a book from my mother. She had an uncanny knack for picking out a read perfect for me. One year she choose The Hands of Cantu by Tom Lea. The book was about a vaquero in old California that trained horses. Her enclosed note said simply, “these hands had a special talent as I am sure yours do.”
At that point in my life I was riding horses as often as I could saddle up. Mother had once ridden gaited horses in the show ring professionally. It felt deep down good for her to recognize my budding talents and love of horses.
To this day, I consider a book a special gift from me to another person and from the author to the reader. No two ways about it, books make a grand gift for your fellow readers and friends.
Good example and advice for human-animal interactions AND human-human relationships.
Relaxed & Forward: AnnaBlakeBlog
It was last spring when this ancient donkey came to the farm. In the beginning, we thought she might not make it. Nobody likes change but we couldn’t tell if it was a hunger strike or her organs shutting down.
Then she nibbled and sipped and gave us a chance. She gained weight. Upper-thirties, we’re thinking. She has no teeth; she can’t graze. Her big old ears are mostly deaf and her eyesight is poor. We call her Lilith.
And I’m not saying Lilith’s quirky, but the only friend she’s made is the goat. And that only happened after she managed to kick him in the head.
Some days her walk was almost remotely fluid, all things considered. But by fall, she took a bad step sometimes, and it developed into a limp. After a few months of actual nutrition, her hooves started changing. I thought I saw a crack…
View original post 947 more words