Sanctuary!

My last two posts have focused on slings, arrows, wolves, and various nuisances, calamities, and tragedies. This post is to remind myself of all the wonderful, non-calamitous things I've done lately.

1. Mendy and I went hiking at Pinnacles National Monument. Although we failed, once again, in our quest to see a California Condor, we had a delightful mosey along the Condor Gulch Trail.

2. Mendy and I saw Phil and Friends at the Warfield. It was the first show of an amazing series where the band performed the songs on virtually all of the Grateful Dead's albums -- in order.

3. Mendy and I went on a whale-watching trip with Sanctuary Cruises. We saw umpteen humpbacks.



We've always had excellent luck when we've gone out with these folks. One time we were in the midst of about 3,000 dolphins -- the largest group of dolphins the captain had ever seen.

4. Left Mendy at home this time and hopped on a train to New Mexico. A woman at a horse shelter there had emailed me, asking for my opinion on a blind mare they'd just taken in. Some of the board members were inclined to euthanize the horse, as they didn't think she would be able to have a good quality of life. I've owned two blind horses in my day, and have ridden both of them, and I think a blind horse can have a good life.

There was no way to assess their mare's disposition without seeing her, so I decided to go to New Mexico and take a look. The woman was supposed to meet me at the shelter, but when I got there she was nowhere to be found, and wasn't reachable by phone. (Turned out she'd eaten something that day that caused a terrible allergic reaction, and had been too sick to even call me.) After an hour or two the ranch manager arrived, and I hit it off with him by asking if I could do some chores (I wasn't trying to butter him up -- I hate being idle.) So I spent a pleasant hour shoveling horseshit with him and getting the lowdown on the shelter.

The land it's on was won in a poker game by one Mrs. Cash, who ran the local brothel in the early 1900s. Colorful, no?

I also got to know the ranch manager a bit. I had been feeling sorry for myself regarding all my friends who died recently -- but my troubles weren't worth a hill of beans compared to his. His mother and brother died in a tornado when he was seven. Two years after that his little sister drowned in a water trough. After that happened, his father thought himself jinxed, and had nothing to so with the boy for four years. On top of all that, the manager's wife -- the woman who founded the horse shelter -- had died of cancer two years ago. Sheesh! Despite all he'd been through, this guy reminded me of a verse in that old cowboy song "I Ride an Old Paint":

Old Bill Jones had a daughter and a son
One went to Denver and the other went wrong
He lost his wife in a pool room fight
But you can still hear him singin' from morning til night

At any rate, the manager gave me the run of the place and told me I could work with any of the horses, "just as long as I didn't get myself kicked."

So I spent two glorious days working with a motley crew of horses, many of which had been horrifically abused or neglected and were pretty shy of people (and who can blame them?). I worked mostly with Faith, the blind mare, but also spent some quality time with April, Bud, and Una. My most gratifying experience was with Una (that's her in the photo). The first day she let me touch her shoulder -- once, after I stood and talked to her for half an hour. (I didn't halter any of the horses in the pasture, but let them come up to me (or not) on their terms.) On the second day she let me touch her within five minutes of walking up to her, and within a few minutes I was petting her all over. She liked that so much that she followed me around the pasture, chasing off any other horse that tried to come near. I took that as a compliment.

It sure does my soul good to work with horses, and I hope to spend a few more days at The Horse Shelter in June or July.