Excerpt from GIT

This is the opening of GIT, the story of a young dog, abandoned on a lonely road and searching for a home and love. It is the story of a broken-hearted man whose own dog has died.

GIT

A rainy mist blanched the darkening land as she descended from the truck with the all too familiar "Git". The man always spoke harshly as he had when he commanded her into the truck. She had not wanted to leave the squirming mass of life she called her puppies for it had been warm and comfortable with them, and their tiny squealing brought happiness to her face. Now, as Git exited the truck, the wind brushing through high trees that sloped to the road, she wondered how long it would be before she saw them again. She did not know that they were already loaded into a plastic sack and tossed mewing and wrigglin into a garbage pile. In time the wriggling would stop and then the mewing and the sack would lay motionless in the refuse. She did not know that.

Nor did she know why neither the man nor the boy looked back as the pickup motored away, belching its black smoke into the damp air. Dutifully, she trotted after the truck as she had so often on the farm where she was born. A failed gun dog, frightened by gunfire, run over by the man's tractor and left to heal on her own, she learned respect and fear for the man at a young age. Yet, she loved and forgave the boy who pelted her with stones and the man who kicked her out of the way. She knew there must be kind people in the world because she had seen other animals with their human friends. They were not mean or vicious. Thus she trusted the man and the boy, hoping she would one day receive the affection and praise she craved.

So when the boy ordered her away from her puppies and out the door, she surmised only that she must obey, putting her trust in those unworthy of that trust. But she did not know that then.

The truck drove slowly away. She trotted behind. Trotted without question and with the loyalty inherent in her breed. And that breed was questionable, but sported some retriever, some border collies and perhaps remnants of beagle. She was truly beautiful when she stood with upraised front paw, motionless before a hidden bird. But now she trotted behind, picking up the pace as the truck moved more quickly away from her. Then the panic -- as it surged away, gathering speed and moving out of her life, out of the lives of her pups. Weakened by giving birth with no care or medical aid, she soon faltered, finding herself on a quiet road with only the wind-filled trees and the forbidding woods for companionship.

Copyright May 2006 Tears and Tales:Stories of Animal and Human Rescue

I'll continue Git's adventures another day.

The Unblog - 4th of July

THE UNBLOG…


Well, I did my first blog, got three readers and no comment from anyone. Not a very impressive start for a man who likes to talk and entertain.
Anyway, we had a great pre-4th celebration, with seven trail riders showing up to spend two hours on the trail. We had a conglomeration of horses, a couple of walkers, ungraded white gelding, two other Godknowswhat horses that did pretty well for their first outing. Virginia and I have Kentucky Mountain Saddle horses and except for a bit of stubbornness, they really are very fine horses… unless of course you tell them not to go to the barn when they want to go to the barn.
The day started off pretty hot and humid but dried a little toward noon. By the time we were riding it was hot but not stifling. Still we kept to the creeks and woods where it was much cooler.
We do this every Fourth of July, just s small group of friends that meet every Thursday evening for a couple of hours of chit-chat. Bonding this way in the country means always being there when the other guy needs you, like the time I was being operated on for colon cancer and they didn’t know if I would make it. My friend Vernon showed up and stayed with Virginia all the way through the operation. He and Virginia were the first ones I saw when I came out of the anesthetic.
Of course I was pretty groggy and I kept thinking it was very nice of this man and wife to come visit me… but who the hell were they. A couple of days later my wife let me know who they were. But that’s the kind of thing I mean. When Virginia had her pacemaker installed, Vernon and his wife Helen were there all the way through and took an active role in grilling the doctor so we all knew what was going on. Friends like that just don’t come along all that often.
Anyway we started this tradition of meeting every Thursday night. At first it was an exercise night for the girls and a horse riding night for the boys. Pretty soon the only weights the girls were lifting were their forks because of all the goodies lying around. The men joined in. So on the Fourth, we meet, ride and have a barbecue afterwards.
This year Vernon told his wife he had invited forty-two people but he didn’t know how many were coming. Actually about fourteen did. We roasted a goat which Vernon provided. All the women brought something along, baked beans and that kind of thing, plenty of desserts. We left the table stuffed and feeling guilty about the waistline… but very, very content.
Later in the evening, we had fireworks. Each year one of the men provides the fireworks which last about forty-five minutes. All kinds including the ones that don’t go where you expect them to go and really create buzz. One of them almost landed in the box of fireworks. Somewhere they picked up these sparklers that emitted smoke. So much smoke we couldn’t see a thing. But the up side is we did not have any bugs either.
Eventually the fireworks petered out and just as the last one fizzled out, we heard this tremendous nnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That was the goat we didn’t eat giving his personal opinion about the entire affair.
Raising goats is the new thing now that tobacco is gone. We seem to be importing tobacco from other countries where it does not grow as well so rural people have had to find other sources of income. Those that aren’t planting pot and such are turning to goats (ostriches are out) and creating a new industry.
On the subject of new professions, I started writing and published my first book Tears and Tales last July. Animal rescue stories along with some human rescue stories. We are just learning the marketing business but so far we have been picked up by the Kentucky Horse Park Gift Shop and the Greenbrier, WV. I am excited about both because both are top flight gift shops. We also heard from an organization that is using animals to assist physically challenged and ill people.
They’ve asked me to visit their facility and I am just elated about that. I mean anyone can write a book that makes money and hits the best seller lists… but how many people can write a book that really helps people?
Well, O.K. so there are hundreds but better a big fish in a little pond than having no water at all.
Have to close now. Hope to hear from you.

Russell