Hope, Horses and Huckleberry

 

The other day I was deep into one of those podcasts that sneak attack your soul, when I stumbled upon a conversation that was basically an emotional mic drop. Author Caroline Myss was unpacking something called the anatomy of the spirit. I know, sounds like a mystic yoga move, but stay with me. 

"One way to understand your spirit is that it's part of you that is seeking meaning and purpose. And also, the part of you that's drawn to hope. That has to believe in something more. It's the light of you. It feels like hope. It feels like grace. Your spirit is a part of you that feels like hope."

Um hello cosmic slap to the forehead.

For years I've said things like 'my spirit is in chaos' when things would get confusing, or when I was trapped in a mess or things felt like I had fallen down the rabbit hole in Alice In Wonderland where nothing makes sense but I'm being told yes it makes sense. 

But what I really meant all along? I'd lost hope. Hope in the life that was meant for me. 

Cue Caroline, causally dropping the secret of the universe like it's no big deal.

If you have life, you have purpose. Are you living the life meant for you?

Boom. That's the mic drop. That's the plot twist. That's the soul-shaking, lunch-ruining question that made me spill my iced tea. 

Truth is, for a long time, I wasn't. And it's hard to say that out loud. Because when you realize you've been the main character in the wrong movie, well...that's on you. But guess what? Owning the truth - that I stayed too long in a life not meant for me - has given me the greatest gift: freedom. God saved me from me. And now?

I'm walking through open doors with clarity, conviction, and absolutely no self-betrayal allowed.

I've learned the secret of a scared pause in conversation. I no longer compromise who I am. No more confusion, just alignment. I'm reclaiming a self I never got to be. My spirit keeps hope alive. 

So much Hope

My girl, Hope 💚

Hope is my rescued Shetland pony - all sass, no chill, and a heart made of slowly-thawing butter. 

She came from a rough past and has a PhD in Trust Issues, but over time, she and I have built this hilarious little routine: I approach. She pretends not to know me. I insist on love. She eventually melts. Every time. It's basically the Groundhog Day of pony affection. 

Enter: Morghan (horse whisperer/farm-moving magician/friend extraordinaire) and her adorable daughter, Hattie, whose in the market for a pony who fits her size and heart. Suddenly, the unthinkable crosses my mind: Could Hope be Hattie's Hope too? 

My first instinct was "Nope, Hope is staying put." But then I realized - what if her next open door is actually a little girl in tiny boots who loves like the sun shines? Maybe Hope's spirit needs more room to gallop, more hands to braid her mane, more cookies to nibble from gentle palms. I'm still deciding. It's delicate. Emotional. But full of - yes - hope.  

Jello, or as I call him, Huckleberry

Speaking of hope.....

He has the cutest side eye

Meet my 10 week old foster pup who thinks I'm his emotional support human. 

I've been approved as a foster for the Humane Society of North Texas (based in Fort Worth) and I've received my first foster pup. His name is Jello but he doesn't know that yet because I keep calling him Huckleberry.

He arrived thanks to the heroic efforts of the Humane Society of North Texas who are helping rehome animals displaced by the Kerrville floods. I was more than happy to help wherever I could esp when it comes to animals.

My job? Be his warm, safe, cuddly chew toy who will help bridge his now - to his forever. My challenge? Not keep him forever. 

I've been instructed that I will keep him approx 2 weeks, and the Humane Society will reach back out to me when it's time for me to bring him back. He will then be altered (neutered), given further shots, and made-ready for adoption. He just needs a little more time before those things can occur, hence this is where - and when - a foster home is needed. 

The Humane Society of North Texas does a bang-up job with their foster program. For me, I have had a wonderful experience thus far with great communication and kindness from my foster coordinator. I’ve been given options and choices in regards to dog or cat, size, and girl vs boy preference. When I went to go pick up Jello, the foster coordinator was very thorough in her information regarding Jello and the next steps. Then she gave me a bag of tricks with everything I would need to care for him and handed me the crate with him in it - and left me to figure the rest out. I can do this.

There's irony in this is as I saw the new toy, the blanket, the food and the treats and the puppy pads and all the things in my take-home bag, I myself have purchased items off the Humane Society's Wish List online for them - and now I see first hand where it all goes. To the dogs, cats, fosters, adopters - to those in need. It warmed my heart and brought my experience full circle.

When we made it back home, I was astounded at how The Littles and my Big outside dogs readily welcomed Jello and gave him zero trouble. There was a excited and warm welcome party of Mia and Theo, and also standoff-ish welcome from Charlotte and Maybe, who were quietly being non-aggressive and that's all I ask. Cooper and Sugar were extremely neutral and simply walked by Jello like he lives here already. Another pup, okay. They know me too well.

All the sniffs

Okay then 

The first night went well, and he slept great. Since his first official day here was on a Saturday, it was a little overwhelming for lil 5 lb Jello. The barn, the farm animals, all his new friends, the rain, the heat, and a myriad of other new experiences - all in a day. He was velcor’d to me and I did a lot of holding and cuddling.

Safe and relaxed during farm chores

Which lead to 💤 

But I tell myself daily: I'm a loving stop on his journey. I'm the 'snacks and cuddles' layover before his destination. Still, I already tear up just thinking about saying goodbye. Foster care? Yeah, it's an emotional labor of love. 

Jello aka Huckleberry is snuggly, he's spry, and he's already nailed the doggie door. I'm teaching him leash skills, that nail trims won't be the end of him, and that death by collar is not a real thing. It's basically my side gig to help socialize him and teach him how to strike an irresistible post for his adoption photo shoot. I also promised to write him a sure-to-get-adopted bio that could win over the Grinch. I'll ugly cry when that day comes. You can bet on that.

Even still, 14/10 would foster again.

Overall, this is a test. For he and I.......I hope we pass. 

There's hope for Poppy, at last

l to r, Poppy and Pippa

Ever since I took in these wild n crazy girls, Poppy has been my sweet, skinny, elderly one whose molars are....well, more suggestions than teeth. I've been concerned about her weight from Day 1 when she stepped off the horse trailer and have had her health checked out to now realize it's likely her teeth. 

She came from auction, so her skinnyness kinda made sense. Now it doesn't make sense. It was time. Time for more help.

So I called an equine dentist and let the donkey dental drama began. 

Poppy went first, while the others watched
in horror

I did not know what to expect and quite frankly have never seen, much less heard of this before, and before I could say 'are those teeth?', I watched what appeared to be a cross between an exorcism and dental school horror film. Once again, simply another trainwreck in my barn from which I cannot turn away from - or get away from. Nor could the donkeys. Nor the horses. We were all in this to win it but did anybody really win.

I felt terrible as I was torturing the ones I love, knowing full well that it would be good for them in the long run. Like taking your baby to the doctor for their shots. A mashup of terrible and necessary. Two words that should never be together.

So what really happened was, the dentist went through my girls one by one and I was aching for it to be over as it felt like my very own teeth were being pulled. Good: she was thorough. Bad: it was taking so long. Doing what needed to be done - which is nice, esp that she has a flat rate per equine so you want to get your money's worth. Or do we? Yeah, we do, I guess.

I'm happy to report after the blood bath that I/she were able to isolate Poppy's main problem. Hi, it's me, I'm the problem it's me, your teeth.

Some of the teeth she does have left, are bad. Therefore the equine dentist pulled 4 teeth total, while I watched this never ending dental horror show. 

You'll feel better, Poppy

Say yes to drugs. Luckily, the equine dentist does just that, and gives 'some' sedation prior to starting this unfortunate process. She did say that Poppy will feel better just by getting her bad teeth out. She also said that Poppy does not have the ability to chew grass (and hasn't for awhile) which is part of why she's so thin. Therefore I need to be feeding her mash. Let the mash-making mission begin.

I think that's kinda what I do with Sugar and Theo's dog food anyway, who also have no-teeth issues. I soak their kibble in water, and now I will do the same for Poppy. I can do that for the love of Poppy. 

After all, it's the Sunshine Senior Resort over here and the mash will flow.

Poppy's nasty 4 teeth. 

Then after Poppy was released from the grip of the contraption, Pippa was next. Then Dora, and I saved the best for last, Hope. 

Dora was not a fan. 1 star ☆☆☆☆★
Would not recommend

I'll save you the torture of more dental photos, but please know this. Pippa did 'okay" and Hope did 'awful'. Actually, Hope did terrible and acted a fool. She had a full dental meltdown and tried to sue me mid-procedure. I finally just asked for her to be released as somebody was going to get hurt. Hope gave 0 stars for the experience and would like her money back. She stayed far away from me for days. Just to make sure.

The donkey mash has begun

Morning and night, and is
now being being placed in her own feed bucket

Sadly, the dentist told me that Poppy is quite old (which I knew) and gave her about 5 more years of life (in her opinion, doesn't mean it's true, Poppy). Part of Poppy's body habitus is due to age, and not only her teeth. It's Poppy's teeth though that are not able to chew grass and pellets and allow her body to process food properly. 

So mash it is and mash it will be. After all, the Sunshine Senior Resort's most popular menu item is mash. Secret? It's my favorite texture too. Mash is love. Mash is life.

I loved and hated that the equine dentist also 'aged' each horse and donkey for me, which was about what I had expected their ages to be and I appreciated the confirmation. All in all, it was a good experience. No it wasn’t, who am I kidding. 

Here's a low down of the results:

Poppy - Didn't see this coming. Didn't know what hit her. Hard when your first up to know these things. Let's see: Bad teeth. Missing teeth. 4 teeth pulled which leaves her with not-alot of teeth and none which come together to actually chew anything. Not a good day for Poppy yet better days to come.

Pippa - Extreme overbite therefore her bite is 'off', so she grinded, yes grinded areas to allow for a more appropriate bite. The barn smelled like a dental office. 

Dora - Grumbled the whole time. One cracked and broken tooth that was pulled. Some grinding in areas where her bite was 'off'. Overall, not bad for her age. She's actually already lost a number of teeth just due to age.

Hope - Sedated (as they all were) and utterly intolerant. More sedation, more intolerance. A battle of wills ensued and Hope filed a civil suit against me. It's hard to tell teeth condition with a patient who literally fights back. Wasn't worth the fight. We settled the case out of court.

Emmie (Emerald) - Too young and sat this round out.

The End. For now......

Hoping for no more snakes

Now for the adrenaline-fueled portion of the program. I've killed three snakes now. One with my hands/gardening/farm tools, and one with my shotgun.

Along comes another snake. We'll call him Snake #3. Snake #3 meet my new BFF - snake grasper. Followed swiftly by a tree trimmer decapitation. It was quick, efficient and only mildly traumatic. You may now call me the Snake Slayer. 

Yeah, Snake #3 was smaller than the other 2, and maybe even a different breed of snake as it was hard to tell because it was 9 pm, I'm drowsy and I'm justing trying to go out and turn the barn nightlights on for christ sake. Why does that have to be so hard.

Recommendation by Deja (at Lauren's work)
to be used in conjunction with a machete 

When Deja mentioned to Lauren her snake-killing method, I knew I needed that in my life. I keep my snake graspers in the barn for just these occasions. Luckily for me, I was able to grab them in time. They work like a snake charmer. I used those snake graspers like I was a trainer for the company, giving a presentation of how to do it. "And you grab their neck with the graspers like this, and then you grab your machete and do like this." Yep, I would work for them if they asked me to, I mean why not.  Side gig: Provide in-service for snake killing paraphernalia. That would look good on my nursing resume.

Snake graspers ★★★★★

Wow, so easy. Yeah, you gotta get a little close to the snake. No big deal if you get it before it gets you. And let me tell you what, these snake graspers are for-real meant for snakes - and they hold that snake tight. 

Best $28.49 I've spent

Let me know if you need the link to it. Amazon, who else.

Where was I, and just to reiterate for the inservice, since I do not have a machete yet, I used my brand new tree trimmers and while holding the snake in my graspers, I walked over to get my new, sharp tree trimmers and just like that, I tree-trimmed it's head right off. Deed done.

I think word has gotten out in the snake community. I've not seen another snake yet, but I look every day - trust me. I look. And watch. Because the eggs are too delicious to resist and another will try. Not too worry, I have my arsenal of tools and gun to take care of it. My goal: Get it before it gets me.

Two Fun to Handle

Guess who turned TWO!!!

She's so happy, loves to be sung to,
and looks at Brooks with heart eyes  💕

This girl. 

Yes, you

Sweet, smart, saucy, and a little shy......all with a light that shines, shimmers and sparkles. Never let anyone dim your gorgeous light, my sweets. 

All smiles until 
someone puts you on a horse.
There will be resentment.

Happy Birthday, Olive! I love watching you grow, live your most precious life, and fuel the world with your smile . 💞 I love you so very much.

Light It Up

It's hard to follow a cutie patootie 2 year old who can light up a room. Yet, while on the topic of light, I wanted to share a new addition to the barn - and it's not a chicken. It's lit. 

The barn got a glow-up

One of the doctors at my work blessed me with hanging some new lighting in my barn. (Thank you Dr B!) He even picked it all out and had an idea where he wanted to place it all. It was all very thoughtful and I appreciate it more than you know. Better to see the snakes with. 

Solar dusk to dawn light 

And......dusk to dawn solar string lights, along with some LED lights on the wall inside the barn. They all add up to create a little extra barn sparkle. 

I heard Paul The Turkey talking with the girlz about
the new Party Barn. He's not wrong. 

But wait, there's more fun things happening in the barn -  all 12 chicks are out of the nursery and mingling with the big hens. Betty did a top-tier job raising them and is now enjoying her well-earned retirement. Possibly a margarita. 

Job well done, Betty. Congrats on your retirement!

In other farm news....

I took a fence down that was not my friend......

Before

After

Before taking the old fence down, I caught site of a double rainbow that basically screamed, "Yes, this life is for you." And I believe it. Because finally, finally I'm living the life that's mine. The one meant for me.

So beautiful, God

My animals, my land, my people, my purpose - it's a mosaic of joy, chaos, learning and fierce love. I'm trying to try, do the sacred pause, listening for truth, and leaning hard into hope. And it's all coming together. Thank you dear Lord as this is all you.

So here's to fences removed, puppies fostered, donkey's healed, snakes vanquished, barn lights that twinkle like dreams and grandchildren who light up the world. There is so much hope in this most amazing life.

It took me awhile, but I found the love of my life. It's me. 

With light and laughter,

Cyndi

Another late update, which I tend to have happen lately. No, not another snake.

Max and Maverick

Max and Alexis came over on Sunday and (fingers crossed) I think Max and his family may be willing to adopt Jello. I mean Huckleberry. Wait, no it's Maverick because that's what Max named him and that makes them family. This little pup has no idea of what his name is....yet. He can't even figure out gravity. 

These two cuties made smores and held a pup

Max and Alexis do so much around the farm. They mowed and even made me a new and longer running trail around my 21 acres so that 1 lap is more than 1 mile now. Insert heart eyes. They do everything - trim trees, clean the barn, clear brush, collect and process eggs, fill water buckets, feed the animals and I mean all the animals. And this is not even close to a comprehensive list, my friends. 

I'm most grateful for these two - and my little foster pup would be the luckiest foster pup in the world to be adopted by Max and his family because that family also includes Alexis. 💛  These two love hard and that's just what any foster pup wants the most. Love.

Here's hoping this wish comes true.