A Good Day at Work

 I had a good day at work yesterday. No, it was pretty awesome actually.  We had a goat come into the office with two little legs sticking out from under her tail.  She had been in labor for a few hours and that's the only part of the baby that was able to make it out.  We lead momma goat into the exam area where the vet tried her best to help pull the baby out.  It just wouldn't come! It was too big!  In order to save the mother and the baby a decision was made to perform an emergency c-section. 
We lifted momma goat onto the surgery table and used anesthesia to put her into a deep sleep.  The doctor worked skillfully and in minutes she was pulling out and enormous wet bundle of fur.  It wasn't moving and we figured that it was just too much for that little life to live.  The owner took the little bundle, that was twice the size and weight of a normal new born goat kid (baby goats are called kids), from the doctor and yelped out "He's moving!"  The doctor told her to quick hold him upside down so the amniotic fluid would drain out of him so he could breath.  After a few minutes he was not "meeeeeeeeeeeeing" (that is the cute sound goats make) like normal baby goat kids would be doing and he was pretty floppy...I was preparing myself for a not so happy ending for that little guy. 
The doctor was putting momma goat back together and I was passing her the supplies she needed when all of a sudden the surgery room started to echo with little baby "meeeeeeeeee"'s.  We both stopped and looked up to see a little giant blinking baby goat watching us.  While we finished he grew strong enough to hold his own head up and his cries grew louder and louder.  
With momma back in one piece we turned the anesthesia off.  In a few minutes she was awake and sitting up.  We were worried that since she was not awake when he was born that she might not accept him as her baby but....yet again we didn't need to waste our time worrying.
As soon as momma got saw her little baby she said "meeeeeeeeeeeee!"!
And then baby goat said "meeeeeeeeeeeeee!"!
Then momma goat said "meeeeeeeeeeeeee!"!
And then baby goat said "meeeeeeeeeeeeee!"!
And then...Momma goat just stated licking him all over his face as the owner held him next to her face.  Baby goat was so happy that he was making happy little "mee" "mee"'s as he got covered in her kisses.
Oh my God!!!!!!!!!  I almost cried happy tears.  I fell in love with them. 
What a great change from answering the phones and trying to figure out how to print freaking envelopes off the computer.  I had been feeling a bit burnt out from work lately but that momma goat and her giant little miracle baby goat "meeeeeeeeeeeee"ing to each other made me love my job again.
Copyright (c) 2011 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

I love my horse

   I'm 33 and while I hug and kiss my horse Autumn goodnight, I tell her I love her a million times, while my husband prays that no one but him is witnessing this.  Luckily, the only ones that see this are my friends that are doing the same thing with their horses with their men who are hoping, like my husband, that no one is watching.  I can't help it.  I just love my horse. 
     Ever since I got Autumn to the ranch we were close buddies.  With Autumn being only 10 months old when I got her, she was too young to start riding.  Instead, we would go on long walks together around the ranch.  The ranch is beautiful!  The photo on the top of this blog page is the ranch.  Set amongst a redwood forested mountain side in northern California, the ranch is over 300 acres and surrounded by tens of thousands of acres of timber property.  There is a herd of about 40 horses that roam through the forests, graze in the meadows and drink and swim in the numerous ponds and springs.  It's as wild of a life that a domestic horse can have.  It was a far cry the suburban backyard barns with horses stuffed into them that I grew up with  on Long Island.  It's a horse and horsey girl heaven!
   Everyday, we would explore a new trail pushing deeper into the forest of giant trees.  We got so comfortable with each other that I didn't need to keep a halter on her, she would just follow along on her own...Well, sometimes she didn't...Sometimes she would, and still does, shake her head and gallop off with a great big fart and ditch me in the middle of the woods.  But, Autumn never leaves me when I need her.
    When Autumn was about 1&1/2 years old...still a baby....we decided to take a hike to the top of the mountain for some ocean views.  We were midway, squeezing down a narrow path where on one side was a six foot straight drop off the hill side and on the other side was a murky pond, when Autumn hit the breaks.  The sound of thirty sets of hooves grew louder as they thundered right at us.  We had no where to go.  My mind slowed and reviewed what was about to happen...I have a baby giant horse, a herd of 30 horses charging at us and the only options are to jump or swim.  But, before I could figure out which plan was worse, Autumn arched her body around me, tucked me into her with her head and she anchored her strong draft horse legs into the ground.  The horses sped by us in a bay, sorrel, palomino and painted blur.  They splashed through the pond, balanced on the edge and jumped off of the drop off, all the while, crashing into Autumn, rocking her body as she kept me safely tucked into her.  When it was all over my heart was pounding so hard it made my whole body shake.  I looked into Autumn's eyes...she saved my life.  She protected me.  She kept her head on her shoulders when most adult horses would have kicked me in the ass as they high tailed it out of there.  So yeah, I love my horse.  I love her a lot.  And...I love my husband for standing there with me as I gush over her and he doesn't leave me.
Copyright (c) 2011 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

Autumn

I have to admit that moving out here and leaving my family wasn't easy.  It wasn't easy on my husband for it not being easy on me either. Poor guy.  I tried my hardest to find a routine to fall into.  Eventually, I found my job at the veterinary hospital and that made it all so much more....worse.  It was the hardest job that I have ever had and my loneliness was coupled with self doubt.  I had to schedule two doctors at the hospital and on farm calls to places I've never heard of before.  I had to learn how to do lab work, sterilize instruments, assist the doctors with xrays & medical procedures. I had to learn how to properly restrain sheep, goats and horses. I had to memorize procedure names, medications, dewormers, instrument & equipment names.  And the hardest thing for me was to answer the phones. I have always hated talking on the phone, I mean, I don't even like to order a pizza.  Now, I had to answer three phone lines and handle panicked questions about what to do for a goat that spent the entire night upside down with his horns stuck in the mud.  Or someone who wants to have a horse castrated but they can't find one of his testicles.  I would pray for a cow appointment that would leave the entire barn coated in explosive cow pie diarrhea. Those appointments were god sent.  I would get to stay out in the barn free from the ringing phones with my main objective being, get rid of the poop. 
After a few weeks, I wasn't sure if I was cut out for a job of this caliber.  I wanted to quit.  Real bad.  But, two things made me stick with it.  1. A whiskey and coke or two at night 2. A secret dream...I wanted a horse.
So, I sucked it up, put on my big girl panties and learned the job  (Not for the whiskey but for the horse).  Now when I came home from work I'd skip the whiskey and hit the Internet.  I'd look at hundreds of horses a night.  Mustangs, draft horses, rescue horses, fast horses, slow horses, pretty horses...  At the end of each night  I'd always find myself staring at some giant draft horse with legs the size of tree trunks and backs so high you would need a ladder or to stand on a car roof to climb on their backs.  My search narrowed.  I wanted a draft horse and I wanted a rescued one. 
Then one night this popped up:

It was Autumn...actually her name was Phoebe back then...but it was my dream horse!  She was picked up from a slaughter yard by Gentle Giants Draft Horse Rescue in Maryland, 2905.24 miles away.  Even though her adoption price was low I was sure that to haul her out to California it was going to cost a fortune.  I almost stopped there but for the hell of it I submitted for a price quote to a national horse transportation company get her from there to here.  Next day I had my quote, $1400 door to door.  By the end of that day, I had contacted the rescue and had a date set up to meet my 10 month old, Belgian draft horse dream filly, in Maryland.  Conveniently, I had to fly out to New York for my dad's wedding and I would make a quick 2 day side trip to meet Autumn.
I sent letters to everyone back home about my dream horse and less then a week later my freaking kick ass awesome husband,family and friends, whom I love whole heartily, sent me money to help make my dream come true.  When I got to New York my great friend Anne volunteered to drive me, my fighting non stop in the back seat of the car mom, sister and her pug Penelope Pants to the horse rescue.  We went straight to the rescue which was a beautiful farm with rolling fields filled with giant happy horses.  The woman who ran the rescue was friendly and professional.  She said I was the farthest potential adopter they have ever had.  As a rule, the rescue requires that you come to meet them and the horse in person and  that you demonstrate the skills required to safely handle the horse you are interested in. I was so nervous. What if Autumn didn't like me?  I groomed her, took her for a walk and did a few exercises to demonstrate my skills for the rescue owner.  Well, long story short...I looked into Autumn's big brown eyes and I knew right then and there that she liked me!  Even better, the rescue approved the adoption!   We took a million pictures and stuffed her with treats.  I signed her adoption papers, pulled out my money order and paid her adoption fees, confirmed the horse transporter to come pick her up in two weeks and POOF!  DREAM COME TRUE!
Sitting in the car, with my sister and mom screaming at each other while my amazingly patient friend drove us back to NY in disbelief of how much coffee drinking and fighting was going on in her back seat, I just couldn't believe that in a few weeks I'd finally have a friend in California with me.

I encourage everyone to visit Gentle Giants Draft Horse Rescue website at:

http://www.gentlegiantsdrafthorserescue.com/

Check out the "Available Horses" section.  You can get to see the horses for adoption, get their story and they would LOVE help sponsoring a horse or any donations to help them do what they respectfully and compassionately do for these big horses.

Copyright (c) 2011 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

A stolen wave...

Just about six years ago, I was surfing at Gilgo beach in New York when some guy stole my wave.  Two months later we eloped.  We did it in secret, at the town hall which we were late to because we had to stop and buy wedding bands on the way in the middle of a can't see out the windshield torrential rainstorm.  My sister couldn't be there in person but she was there in cell phone, with her high school graduation head shot rubber banded to the key pad.  The love and lust that drove us to such a hasty and passionate decision slammed us head on into the fear and anxiety of telling our parents...worse yet my mom.  As a child my mom would surprise me with books on how to plan weddings by such greats as Martha Stewart...I had to use the utmost delicacy in breaking the news to her.  I took her out for a five scoop ice cream sundae and a walk through the cemetery. We found a bench in a family plot and sat in awkward silence until I couldn't handle the ice cream headaches anymore.  I pulled my left hand out, shoved my banded ring finger in her face "I'm married!" She cried violently for four seconds, then looked me dead and the eye and told me that I was going to have a wedding reception.  I knew that if I said no I was going end up crashing that family plot by digging my own grave next to them.
 So, we ended up having the reception and it rocked and my mother got her maniacal Martha Stewart wedding plans out of her system and everyone was happy.  As a wedding gift, a friend of ours gave us John Steinbeck's book Travels with Charley. A few weeks later I started reading it aloud when we drove to the beach to go surfing.  We would pull up to the surf spot and sit in the truck ignoring the waves until we finished reading the adventure in that chapter.  To put it in a nutshell...Travels with Charley was a true story about  John Steinbeck's adventures on the open road as he drove across country with his co-pilot, a big black poodle, named Charley. More then half way through the book, on our way back from Montauk Point, my husband swerved the truck into a parking lot.  I put down the book and saw that we stopped in front of a brown and tan Volkswagen Westfalia van.  "Why are we stopping?".  He didn't answer me because he was already out of the truck with his nose pressed against the dork-mobile's window. 
"Get my phone." 
Oh no. 
"This is perfect!  We can drive back to California in it!"  He had less then a year left in the Coast Guard and when he finished we planned to head back to his home state of California to use his G.I. Bill for college. 
Unfortunately, the owner of the van lived around the corner and he and my husband were crawling around in it like two boys in a tree fort in a matter of minutes.  It had a sink, refrigerator, stove, mini closets, a fold out table, two fold out beds and the owner was willing to throw in his Grateful Frisbee if we bought it.  It was pretty neat for a dork-mobile and it did come with a Frisbee.  I told him how we were just reading Travels with Charley and that's what inspired my husband pull over and check it out.  The owner said that was a pretty neat coincidence because he actually grew up next to Steinbeck in Sag Harbour, New York.  His mother even cleaned his house.  He said when he was little that he can remember climbing through Rocinante (that's the name Steinbeck gave his trusty truck in the book).  Fate couldn't have smacked us harder in the face.  We went to the bank, drained our wedding reception gift money savings and we became the proud owners of a dork-mobile and threw our new Grateful Dead Frisbee westward.
Copyright (c) 2011 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

Not So Petite Rodeo Princess

My job at the veterinary hospital is very versatile requiring that I wear many "hats" throughout each day.  I have to be able to switch gears from a receptionist answering the phones to a lab assistant staring at some animal's poop under a microscope to pulling on my shit kickers (aka knee high rubber boots) and jumping in when the doctors need a hand with the animals.  One particular day instead of putting on one of my well worn hats I ended earning a new one....well it wasn't a hat....more like a belt buckle.
Our first appointment that day was a goat that needed a little remodeling done on his horns.  It was a pain free procedure but due to fact that this goat was more of the size of a  pony we had to use anesthesia to prevent a rodeo.   After he was quietly sleeping on the surgery table the doctor began the procedure.  My job was to keep the anesthesia mask over the goat's muzzle, monitor his breathing and assist the doctor with any requests.  The doctor was almost finished when the goat took a deep breath, like the one you take when you've finally decided to get out of bed. But it was time for this guy to get out of bed just yet.  He was raised four feet off the ground on the surgery table with sharp instruments close at hand.  Beneath this goat's 200 pounds of uncoordinated drunken anesthetized state were the doctor and myself.    Like an ungraceful gazelle, I hurled myself onto the goat and grabbed a hold of the sides of the table and pinned him down.  The doctor worked efficiently and furiously, pausing briefly to look at me spread eagle on top of this goat and said to me "I'm glad you're not so petite".  Then without missing a beat she finished the rest of the procedure.  On his feet and wide awake with a twinkle in his eye, I think that if that goat could talk he would have asked me for my phone number.
Later, in the office, I bragged about my "great" new compliment of being "not so petite" to the gals.  They obviously weren't jealous because they were laughing so hard.  A few weeks later, I was called into the senior veterinarian's office.  (as a side note....this senior veterinarian could have easily had a very successful career as a drill sargent)  Upon entering his office he handed me a package wrapped in powder blue tissue paper.  What?  A gift from him? In tissue paper?  I took it from him cautiously and unwrapped it.  There in my hand was a homemade belt buckle, made of cardboard, edged in frilly gold ribbon, decorated in gold sequins and written in Sharpie black marker was "Not So Petite Rodeo Princess".  That was the biggest grin, to date, on that man's face I've ever seen.  I stared at it in amazement.  I was trying to picture this big John Wayne/drill sargent/veterinarian sitting at a craft table with a glue gun arranging sparkly sequins in between the ruffling golden ribbon.  I fastened it to my belt and did a little "not so petite rodeo princess"  two step around the office.  I think that this time I could sense a little jealousy.
Copyright (c) 2011 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com