The past few weeks seem to have blended together into a blur of sadness, disappointment and sorrow; not just on a personal level but globally as well. Here at home we have lost one of our last, loved family patriarchs and leaders, a tremendous blow to our family […]
“It is the weekend of Thanksgiving, a time to reflect and pull our loved ones close and give thanks for their cherished presence.
But sadly, this Thanksgiving, very close friends of ours lost a special equine companion who we had just visited this week, a true testament to the power of rescue and compassion, of tenacity and strength. Yet, this great soul passed unexpectedly across the bridge and left those behind to struggle with yet another empty hole within their caring hearts.
On this ‘Feel Good Sunday’ I leave for you, Susan, a poem by an unknown author that I hope brings a bit of peace to your heart and warmth to your soul.
We all thank you for what you do, equines and humans alike.
We love you.” ~ R.T.
Twas the night before Christmas on our public land
not a Mustang was stirring, knowing what was at hand.
They huddled in fear hoping someone would care,
in hopes that the advocates soon would be there.
We are going to do something a little different than we have done before, instead of writing text I am going to read the text for you so that you can sit back, close your eyes and on concentrate on the impact of the words that you hear.
Recently I was engaged in an email conversation, with a group of colleagues, on the issue of the extensive cruelty exhibited by Federal agencies and our government, overall. The discussion was centered on the unimaginable suffering that our native wild horses are subjected to at the hands of the Obama administration’s Bureau of Land Management (BLM) headed up by Bob Abbey under the direction of 5th generation rancher, Ken Salazar the Secretary of the Department of Interior (DOI). As the conversation progressed it became apparent that the bulk of the mindless cruelty, shown to our federally protected mustangs, is administered by and distributed through men. Hence, the question arose,
He checked the time again. Not an easy maneuver as he had to take his right glove off, shove the left cuff of his parka up, peel back the wrist band of his left glove and then hit the backlight button on his Casio $19.99 special. Only bought the stupid thing because of the digital thermometer feature it offered and now he wished it didn’t have it as it chilled his insides just looking at the numbers, 33 degrees inside the protection of his parka.
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