Sometimes life, or fate or karma, or whatever you want to call it puts what you need in front of you in a way that you can't ignore. For the last week, I've been experiencing that kind of calling.
Last Tuesday, a trip to town to work a little, pay some bills, purchase groceries.
Traffic on North Fork road usually runs 40 - 45 MPH, which is what I normally drive unless I'm in some kind of hurry. On several stretches of road, I drive even slower so I can admire the horses in the pastures of a couple of homesteads.
On this particular Tuesday, I came around a corner about three miles from home and had to slam on my brakes and skid to a stop to avoid hitting a horse standing in the middle of the road!
I exited the truck, putting on the four-way flashers, and ran up to the back door of the house, calling to anyone inside. A woman's voice answered saying she was just getting out of the shower and it would be a minute.
I ran out to the road to try and capture the horse before another less observant motorist plowed thorough the area. Another car had stopped coming the opposite direction, and the driver was also advancing on the wayward equine. The still dripping wet owner of the horse appeared and we cornered Camellia and led her back to the barn. On the way, I remarked that I was very glad to have been able to stop in time, adding that I had lost my own horse companion of 25 years recently.
I was not prepared for what the owner, Melissa said next, which was "Do you want this horse? I'm giving her away."
Back at the barn, and after getting my truck out of the road, I got Melissa's phone number and told her I'd think about it. I'd been offered a few horses over the last couple of months, but never followed up on any of them, not feeling like I was ready to get another animal, and not wanting to get "stuck" with someone else's unwanted and possibly neglected horse. Nationally, there is a huge surplus of unwanted horses, so many that it's almost impossible to sell, trade, or give them away. Some animal welfare organizations have instituted free euhthanization clinics for unwanted horses to attempt to stop the abandonment of the same on public lands.
Anyhow, I did think about it that day, and all of the next. Thursday, I called Melissa's number but got only the answering machine. I went into town, noting that her car was not outside the house when I went by (slowly and carefully) on my way in. On the way back from town her car was there, but I was kind of in a hurry because I had forgotten my ice chest, and I had perishable foods in the car from the store, so I didn't stop.
Well, I guess when the fates put something in your path and you don't pay attention, they hit you a second time, because another half mile down the road I saw Melissa walking Camellia back towards home. Melissa had put the horse into a neighbor's pasture for a couple of days while they repaired the barn stall where Camellia was being kept. It turned out that Camellia was the only mare at the place, and Melissa's husband didn't want her in the pasture with the geldings (for whatever reason, sounded like a human control issue to me...) I pulled over to talk with Melissa and arranged to come over on Friday to get to know Camellia and look her over more closely.
Friday, well, Friday morning kind of sucked all by itself, I stupidly crushed my left thumb in a bench vice accident, tore it up pretty well. I wrapped the bloody stump up in some band aids and then covered that with some strips cut from old cotton socks, taping the masterwork of medical accomplishment up with some surgical tape.
Anyhow, got to Melissa's about 11 AM as she was getting ready to load up one of the geldings for a nearby trail ride with a friend. Got to groom Camellia for about an hour, asked a lot of questions about her, and watched Melissa put her back into a filthy stall where she had to stay because of the no-mares rule out at the pasture.
Of course by this time, parts of my brain were busy screaming at other parts of my brain about taking on the responsibility of another large animal, the long-term commitment involved, and the near impossibility of finding another home for her if it didn't work out. I was very aware that I needed to be careful to not base any decision I made only on emotion, because my emotions have been on the full-tilt blink for the last six months.
In the end, I guess that my heart stepped in and made the decision for me. As soon as I began seriously thinking that this might be a new companion horse for me, the horrible black sorrow that I have felt since Trace's death released it's grip on me. I told Melissa that I'd take Camillia, but that it would be a week or two before I could get my pasture fences put back up, as I had taken them all down over the winter, being as they were all is such bad repair. The thought of doing 600+ feet of field fencing with only eight fingers and one thumb made the project that much more daunting. Melissa said that it was no problem, they'd just keep her in the stall until I was ready to come get her.
Over the weekend, I felt awful for poor Camellia, having to stay in a groady stall and not able to get out to eat grass. I also worried that if she spent too much time off pasture, that she would lose the ability to consume large amounts of green grass and would need to hardened off against founder before she could be put out on a green lot again. I formulated plans to maybe go pick her up in the mornings and bring her home for the day, returning her to her stall prison for overnights.
"Hey, wait a minute" I realized to myself "If Camellia is going to be stuck in a stall every night, she can do that right here, no daily transportation needed."
So, over the weekend, I converted one of the 16' x '9' covered bays on the side of my storage locker to be an escape-proof horse stall. Lots of drywall screws, and bits and pieces of old lumber, gates, etc went into the making of what will be a temporary home for Camellia while I get my fence trip together. During the day, she can be put out on a long lunge rope to eat down the grass that I spend almost all my spare time trying to keep mowed.
This morning, I called Melissa and told her of my weekend efforts and suggested that sometime in the next day or two I could take possession of Camellia if she had time in her schedule. Her reply was to tell me to meet her at the fire station in ten minutes and it would be done.
Well, cut to the chase and all that, I rode my bicycle the mile down to the fire hall, arriving at exactly the same time as Melissa with the horse trailer. The fire station has new occupants who Melissa knew, so we all stood on the asphalt apron of the fire station and talked for about an hour before all going off our separate ways. My way was to walk back home leading a very calm and willing Camellia.
At the house, I got out the lead rope and tied her to a tree to eat grass while I put the finishing touches on the stall gate and put down Trace's old stall mat, covering it with wood shavings and filling the water bucket.
So, Introducing Camellia:
(We'll have to work off the hay belly over the summer)
She's very sweet and gentle and loves to have you breathe into her nostrils. If you stand by her muzzle and scratch her withers, she reciprocates by very gently nibbling the back of your neck or the tops of your shoulders. This is something that horses only do for favorite horse friends. To receive such treatment as a human is an indication of affection.
For better or worse, I guess we're a couple now. I have a massive amount of work to do to get the fences up and build some kind of shelter for her before winter. I still have screaming brain cells here and there, but seeing her in the yard, and hearing her murmurs and experiencing the touch of her warm flesh is a healing that I've needed for a while. I guess there are worse addictions, probably more expensive ones too. At least mine keeps the lawn mowed.
My thoughts EXACTLY, Dennis! 
makin fools out of us like that 
