The day we brought Timmy back to life (have the tissues ready)

I always grew up with animals, but I am far from a farm girl. I know nothing about animals beyond a dog or a cat. However, a few months ago my mother was introduced to a woman that had a horse (His name was Skip) that she was unable to care for. My mom had been saying for years that she wanted a horse but she lived in the city and had no place for one. Recently, she moved to Tennessee and had the opportunity to get one.

 

 

Timmy, my first horse

When we met the horse he was in a terrible condition. His teeth, the few he had left, had been ground down to where he could hardly eat. It was difficult for him to chew the food that was given to him. He cant eat hay and can only sort of chew grass. He is about 30 years old, which is equivalent to about an 80 year old man. 

 

He was completely emaciated when we saw him. He couldnt hold his head up and his eyes remained shut. He didnt really walk, just kind of stood around. He was so skinny that the bones of his spine showed through his skin. When it got cold out, he had to wear a blanket because his body did not keep him warm enough.

 

Month 2

 

We knew we had to save him.

 

After arranging for transportation, we were able to get him out of the conditions that he was in and into a healthier bording pasture where he could be cared for.

 

The girl who runs the bording pasture took one look at him and gently told us she was unsure if he would make it through his first night. With tears in our eyes, we were so hopeful and prayed that he would make it. She explained to us that he weighed slightly over 600lbs (a horse of his size should have been around 900) and that she had never seen a horse in as badly of a shape that he was in, alive.

 

Grooming Month 3

 

Still, we hoped for the best.

 

After he made it through the first night, we kept faith. After his first physical exam, we learned he was full of worms, had a terrible skin condition that caused him to always be itchy, and Cushing’s Disease causing him to have to take medications for the rest of his life. Because of this disease, he grows a lot of fur and looks kind of like a wolly mammoth which makes him itch. We can shave him but must be aware of the weather so that he does not get too cold. Countless blood tests, ferrier care, dental care and hours of grooming and thousands of pounds of food later he is much healther.

 

 

It was amazing to see with some love, consistency and changing his diet, that he was able to put on weight and thrive.

 

We had saved him. We had given him a second chance.

We changed his name from Skip to Timmy (which cleaverly reminds me of the story of Tiny Tim). He had trust issues and wouldnt let us touch him. He definitely did not come when we called him. But month after month, we did not give up on him. He tested our patience, many many times, but we learn frome ach experience.

 

Month 7

 

We had an outpouring of support from friends and family and continue to thank those that help. Still his monthly medications and food costs are relied on through donations to keep this big boy alive. Click here if you would like to donate or send encouraging words!!

 

 

Month 10

 

Almost a year to the date that we got him, he has long become a member of our family

 

Month 10
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On defining myself and growing up swirled: My First Words

Corporate Chics

 

My first love was words. The sweet taste rolling off my young virgin tongue. The sound, the rhythm, the feeling of wrapping myself up in them. The way my body jerked in the moment of…writing..

 
It was like a love affair. A secret wispy and whimsical passionate love affair. Me, and my words.
 
I started young and never let go.
 
I’ve learned over the years to expand-grow and have a fond love for the writings of my culture.
 
But my culture is swirled. Torn between the rugged sweaty, ripped apart, war torn hills of Africa and the green, lush plains and rainy shores of England.
 
…I fall somewhere in the middle.
 
Walking down the street the neighbors call, “ay was dat light skinned girl doin dawn heah?”
 
I live down here, sir.
 
At school, I answer the arithmetic on the black board streaked with dry white chalk, reminding me of myself: ” yes ma’am, perhaps the answer is 25?”
 
My friends laugh.
 
“who dis guhl think she tryun ta be? She a walkin round dis area like she a damn white girl!”
 
Because of how I talk. Because I go to school. Because my hair curls a little different than the rest of the girls. Because my skin color falls somewhere between a deep rich mocha and a sweet sunny olive.
 
I turn and look down the street at the community that has abandoned me. My eyes squint with the falling raindrops and I shield my hand over my face to keep the water off.
 
I hold my head up but I know I don’t belong here.
 
I take a deep breath and walk on.
 
“go won naw, git goin back to yer white mama, dis ain’t no area for you lil girl”
 
This is my home. This is my childhood.
 
“ay you, what is you”
 
Is me? I don’t understand why you are asking what I am?
 
I turn towards the eyes burning through me, the young girls with crying babies on their hips and I look at my naked hip and wonder if I really am different from them. I see the sneers in their face and can almost feel their clenching jaw, hear their thoughts, feel the deep pulsating of disgust through their veins.
 
I block it out and keep going.
 
Mama, I’m ready to go.
 
I turn, back tall and eyes forward, take a deep breath and take that first step. That first step that made me never look back.
 
The voices trail off and the last bit I catch “don y’all pay no mind to her, she thank she bettah den us… What y’all lookin at?! Go make me sum money….”
 
 
———————————-
My writing was inspired by a wonderful writer named Zora Neal Hurston. I never really remember when I stopped writing, but I remember when I was encouraged to start. I was such a little girl with so much to say. I have grown as a writer but I never forgot the way her words made me feel. Honestly, it wasn’t until this post that I was encouraged to emulate her writing style. This piece has given me chills writing it and re-lit a flame inside me that had died for such a while. Always be true to yourself, and never let anyone tell you that you cant.
 It feels so good to be reborn as a writer.
Here is her piece
The people all saw her come because it was sundown. The sun was gone, but he had left his footprints in the sky. It wasthe time for sitting on porches beside the road. It was the time to hear things and talk. These sitters had been tongueless, earless, eyeless conveniences all day long. Mules and other brutes occupied their skins. But now, the sun and the bossman were gone, so the skins felt powerful and human. They became lords of sounds and lesser things. They passed nations through their mouths. They sat in judgment.

“What she doin’ coming back here in dem over-halls? Can’t she find no dress to put on? — Where’s dat blue satin dress she left here in? — Where all dat money her husband took and died and left her? — What dat ole forty year ole ‘oman doin’ wid her hair swingin’ down her back lak some young gal? — Where she left dat young lad of a boy she went off here wid? — Thought she was going to marry? — Where he left her?— What he done wid all her money? — Betcha he off wid some gal so young she ain’t even got no hairs—why she don’t stay in her class? —”

When she got to where they were she turned her face on the bander log and spoke. They scrambled a noisy “good evenin'” and left their mouths setting open and their ears full of hope. Her speech was pleasant enough, but she kept walking straight on to her gate. The porch couldn’t talk for looking.”

 

– Zora Neal Hurston “Their Eyes Were Watching God”

“The day I discovered I was allergic to tree sperm”….

… also known as pollen. The tickle inside my nose. The dryness on the inside of my throat…

This is one of my few NON favorite things.

Credit: A Sonoma Garden

However, I have a deep respect for nature and all things nature. I love being outside and even meditate in the stillness and quite after a rain storm. I have been to areas all over the country and love when the seasons change, the snow falls or when the sun is shining. I find myself enjoying the outdoors at dawn and dusk (pending the mosquitos) as well as near the water.

Being outside has actually taught me a lot about my own life and respectfully taught me multiple life lessons.

It is important to stay rooted but not always grounded

I have always had strong morals and values, even as a child. I was the one on the playground trying to break up fights between other children. I love listening to others talk about their life passions and what drives them. Family is important to me and happiness keeps me going. But I always try to be open minded and flexible. I have learned that it is not always where you stand (physically or hypothetically) that proves your point but where you go with it.

Credit: The Pioneer Woman

Always have perception of what is around you

It is easy to feel so small in such a big world. To feel as though we are one drop in a big bucket. One speck in a whole planet. It is also easy to have such an ego and demand entitlement. To feel as though we are the only creature that should be given respect. I try to remember that I am one piece of a bigger puzzle but that all pieces of the puzzle are equally important to thrive.

Be willing to coexist

In nature, creatures share space with each other. One lives off the other, all the time. Flowers rely on insects to spread their seed, animals rely on insects for food, people rely on animals for fertile land. Plants provide necessary oxygen. The rain gives us water, the sun gives us life.

Credit: Camels and Chocolate

Do not underestimate what looks cute and fluffy

Do not judge something at face value. Always be willing to learn more and understand the unknown. What looks beautiful to the touch may be deadly to the body. What looks hideous may safe a life…

Credit: Camels and Chocolate

The sound of still is not always quiet (or safe!)

There is always sound around us even when it is still. The sound of life, growing, breathing. Be still but always listen. Always know where you are, physically and within yourself.

Sometimes you just have to let go of stress

Simply stated.. sometimes you just have to let it all go..

Credit: Exit 63

Have a beautiful day 🙂