Along came Penny

I was driving to school each day during the next couple of Winter months when I spotted a horse standing under the same lone tree at the top of a hill in the distance. She was what seemed to be, at least a half mile away, and I couldn't see her very well, but she was there every day, morning and night. There was no grass on the property she shared with several hundred head of cattle. One evening my curiosity got the better of me and driven by some invisible force I made a point of circling that pasture by turning up a remote two track, dirt road for a closer look. I was horrified to discovered from a side view, that this mare was starving to death. Her head looked as though it was disproportional to the rest of her body because she was so thin. Her hip bones protruded profusely giving outline to a skeleton. I immediately turned around and drove up the drive past the home, directly towards the barns, where I spotted a rancher headed towards several long troughs designed to hold hay in the top and grain in the bottoms. He was filling them and the cattle were gathered for a feast. The mare slowly approached the feed trough’s and barely secured a nibble of the hay before she was forced away by the huge numbers and strength of the cattle.
At this time in my life I am 16 years old, and reflecting back on all of the animals I have raised, is far from my mind, I see a starving animal that needs immediate care. Sun a 21 year old Horse I was raised with, has been gone for about 3 months now, and while he is still on my mind, I don't care that I have more pets than any one boy should be allowed, all I see is an Animal in need. The mare approached the troughs first as quickly as her frail frame could carry her as the Rancher poured the feed. He then proceeded to blast the horn on the pick-up truck which is a familiar dinner bell for cattle. Within minutes there were several hundred head of cattle filling the area fighting there way to the troughs. The mare barely got two of three bites of the cotton seed hull mix down before the cattle utilizing there horns, started prying their way in closer and tighter to the trough. Within seconds the cattle had her backed away. They were on that feeding trough like fly's on a dead carcass.
A dead carcass is what I thought of as I stood there in awe looking at the mare. Her eyes were glazed over and streaks stained her face from the discharges. Every bone in her body tried to protrude through her skin, she was scared and her coat was dull and she was coated in mud from the knees down. Her hoofs were dry and splitting with chunks chiped away leaving gaps. As the Rancher approached me I contained my self enough to give a proper introduction and inquire about the possibility of buying the mare. (He apparently had no use for her). He promptly replied that “The mare is of no us because she threw his daughter the day he brought her home after being assured (by the seller) that the mare was "green broke".
He went on to explain to me how he had found her at the local horse auction, how much he paid, and that the mare was registered with papers; but that he saved several hundred dollars by not buying the papers. ( A common practice in horse trading at the time)
He replied that he returned to the horse auction barn where he had purchased the mare on the next Friday night, only to find that the seller wasn't there to give him his money back. The only reason he kept the mare was in the hopes that this daughter would change her attitude since her first riding attempt, and begin working with the mare again. I explained that by the looks of the mare, it didn't appear to be likely that anyone here was going to care for the animal. I moved the conversation forward and asked if he would sell the horse. His answer came as no surprise to me, when he asked for the $800.00 he had given for the mare at the auction. I responded that I could give him $800.00 for the mare if she were in the same condition as she was the day he bought her at auction, but in her present condition, she wasn't worth a plug nickel. I offered $175.00 for the mare. After 10 or so minutes of haggling I finally got down to brass tactics and assured him that I would not pay more than $250.00 today since I knew I could surely buy her for $175.00 tomorrow from the Humane society. What he didn't know, was that I had spent many Friday evenings in that same auction barn, with my dad, riding and demonstrating the reigning and handling characteristics of horses, for many sellers and buyers, both inside and outside of the "North Fort Worth Horse and Cattle Auction" where he had bought her, just a few months back. Probably around the same week-end as I was burying and mourning Sun's death. Sun was an American Standard the I had learned to ride on and enjoyed the pleasure of horsemanship and a special bond of friendship for the past 12 years.
In the mean time, the rancher refused my generous offer, resented my suggestions of reporting him to the authorities, and I was promptly dismissed from the property.
It was a hard thing to do, to leave there that day, without the mare, but I knew that while time was not on her side, it was on mine. I retreated to my uncles ranch a few miles away where by now I am assisting him with his daily milking chores each morning and evening to earn extra money and to pay for my room and board. Later that evening he could see that something was troubling me and I explained the mares dilemma. Due to the small world of Ranchers and Dairymen, my uncle new the gentleman. We picked up the mare the next day. I named her Penny since for all obvious reasons, she wasn't worth a nickel. It took almost an hour to coax her into the horse trailer even with feed, but it was well worth the wait. I drove her directly to the veterinarian and had her quarantined for two weeks to get her strength up before bring her home to the ranch.
Over a period of the next 6 months I kept her stabled but took her for stroll’s around the pasture daily so the other horses could see her closely and  become familiar with her on the property. I only haltered her and rubbed her down daily with small rags at first and eventually could approach her with items as large as a blanket. I began bringing a saddle to the scene and placing it near her but never on her. I rode another Horse and led her on occasion just so she could see the cooperation up close of the saddling and riding process. I walked her leading her in the barrel racing pattern in an arena setting several times a day letting her stop to smell the obstacles and reducing her fear. I even went so far as to kick the barrel’s so she could her the ringing and learn that there was nothing to fear. I always comforted her if she spooked and repeated the process each day testing her on many different obstacles as time passed.
By the 9th month her health improved tremendously and she gained back most of her lost weight. She now allowed me to saddle her and putting weight on her from a stirrup was no problem. Our first rides were limited to walking and as her strength improved we began to trot and lope without argument. The barrel pattern was always the last thing of the day, sometimes with saddle and sometimes on her cool down walk. Penny had never attempted to buck or display any argument at this point in her training and was released to the pasture to graze with the other horses after the morning feeding. She was always there at the fence waiting for me each evening and ready for a ride anytime I asked.
By now she was approximately 3 years old and had regained 100% of her weight and strength. She could not be recognized from the day she was brought home. she became the envy of everyone at the Playday’s and Penny participated in 10 of 10 event’s each week-end, placing first in 8 out of 10 consistently. She set new records in the arena and seemed to strive for a better record each time she entered the arena.
 Many horses argued at the gate and had to be led into the arena on foot, but Penny always entered through the narrow gate willingly and remained calm and confident until our name's were called. She was a full blooded Quarter horse and her take off was like a bolt of lightening and would leave the best of rider’s sitting on the ground if they weren’t totally prepared. She was in full stride by the third step and didn’t let off until told to do so. I sometimes feared that she would run herself to death if you let her. I never found a distance that exhausted her, or one that she wasn’t willing to go for me!

In Loving memory of “Penny” 1974-1997



The Rewards Of Fostering

THE REWARDS OF FOSTERING!

Trooper arrived after two weeks of anxious waiting. His previous owner has lost his apartment due to personal financial strain’s from loosing his job. Word has reached my wife, through a fellow employee, that he intends to turn Trooper over to a local shelter. The young man is moving in with his parents and prohibited from bringing Trooper with him since there is another dog residing at the home. I currently have two dogs myself, rescued from far worse fate’s.
Trooper was invited as a “Foster” meaning , we would make every attempt to return him, or re-locate him, at the earliest opportunity if the owner cannot return for him soon.
                      Our current financial situation should have prevented us from taking in any more pets, but, knowing that this was not just a stray, combined with the fact that the local humane shelter has recently rescued 500 animals from an illegal breeding facility and is already straining to keep up! I gave my word to the owner, that if, he had no alternative home by the time his move was inevitable, I would take Trooper. What I didn’t know was just how tough the next two weeks would be as my wife pleaded with me not to  bring in another dog (specifically male) and create more chaos in our home, between our existing two pets, Coco and Missy Lou. This was also going to increase our financial strain since I too, haven’t worked in the past six month’s.
                During the past two weeks I have listened to the constant begging by my wife to change my commitment and allow the owner to find a new adoption source. I cannot even begin to think of the alternative for Trooper. The day has come and Trooper will be here at 3:00 pm.
      I received a phone call that he is out front and I have secured both of our dogs in the bedroom, far from sight of the backyard. I instruct the owner to bring him directly through the side gate. When Trooper arrives he is not on a leash, and leads the way eagerly through the gate. Trooper is a one year old AKC registered Australian Shepherd. When I call him he comes immediately indicating that he is quite familiar with his name and very friendly. Two good signs. When I pet him I can feel his backbone and hip joint’s He’s about knee high and 7-10 pounds underweight. Not a good sign! Trooper is wearing a collar with current vaccination tags, but it is obvious that he is suffering from malnutrition. We discuss his feeding habits for which the owner assures me were at regular intervals and consumed in a timely manner, so all I can do is assume that Trooper has worms of some sort, preventing him from gaining weight. We all sit and chat for a few more minutes about my experience with dogs and my affiliation with the local shelter and their adoption policies, including my personal objections in taking him to any such shelter. After securing Trooper with a leash and handing one end to his current owner, I fetch another leash and head for the Bedroom.
                 I place Missy Lou on a leash in the house and allow her to view Trooper through the closed door at which time she goes outrageously crazy, barking and clawing at the glass door. During walks Missy cannot pass a fenced dog without attempting to break loose and get to the stranger behind the fence. Whether a cat or a dog, Missy acts like it will be the end of the world unless she can get her teeth into it. She has been my biggest concern as the days have passed awaiting Troopers arrival. Coco at 13 years of age follows my commands and has been taught to ignore other dogs barking or not, because I  taught her, that they are “Babies”, and she is a “Big girl“. She holds her head high and struts as we walk  even un-leashed, which she prefers. As I open the door and allow Missy to ease outside she nearly knocks me over and attempts to drag me to the ground. Trooper hit’s the end of his leash in an attempt to retreat. Everyone holds there ground as I calm Missy. I allow her to lean in slowly for sniffing and circling as dogs will do. After about 2 minutes and heart rates calm to a pant, I release Missy to explore on her own and secure Trooper closer to me for a reaction. If there will be any jealousy it will show up now. Rather than jealousy it turns to curiosity and tails are wagging all around. I release Trooper and the two take off running across the backyard. As Trooper explores scents and obstacles around the yard, Missy stays on his heels trying to attract his attention. After about 5 minutes of this, the two settle back on the porch coming when called and acting as though the visit is a normal episode in life. Now its time for Coco’s introduction!
As predicted, Coco shows a tail between her legs and approaches slowly like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse. I hold Trooper on a tight leash allowing him to lean in slowly and Coco snaps like a mouse trap in his direction. With a quick command in Coco direction she looks to me for approval and I remind her that Trooper is a “baby” and not to be attacked. Coco raises a tail in sign of approval, and Trooper continues to grab quick sniff’s and off across the yard they go in full chase. The chase is innocent and as they stop and share scents, their approvals of each other are recognized with full body language in play. Missy Lou has been restrained on the patio to watch so as not to interfere with the meeting and pulls in full force to join in on the games of chase around the yard. This will be the moment of truth as I release her and jealousy can ensue when the two, become three. My commands to settle down continue until Missy resolves to sit calmly and watch. Suddenly Missy realizes that I have released the leash and she has not been tied at all, but has on her own accord accepted the fact that her older sister is in full approval of the new guest and there is no reason for alarm. I call Coco to the patio and order her to her bed while Trooper and Missy go for round two.
The challenge now is for me to pet and pamper Trooper in front of the two without them becoming jealous of the attention. I introduce Trooper to the water bowl as well. These are territorial issues that both Coco and Missy must overcome in order to create a harmonious environment. So far so good.
I bid Troopers owner a good day while inviting him to return for visits at any time. He secures a last minute hug and is gone out the gate never to be seen again.
  I set up an appointment with the Vet the following week and my fears are confirmed as the results of his test come back positive for Hook worm. I am informed of my options and elect to Purchase the necessary medications my self rather than pay the Price of the Veterinarian clinic’s quote. We pay our fee’s for the visit and bid them farewell. Within several weeks Trooper begins to put on weight and within 60 days he is back to normal body weight and muscle mass.
We have had Trooper for a year now, and I feel we must make a decision as to the fate of his future! His previous owner has shown no signs of returning. Trooper’s due a visit to the Vet (as well as my other two) and I  am still am not employed. Missy Lou and Trooper must be separated as she comes into heat in the next few weeks! Upon contact with Trooper’s owner, I have learned that he has found work, but, is not yet in a position to reclaim him.


Part Two…The end of the second year

Exactly two years have passed and I receive word through my wife that the owner is coming back for Trooper. The emotions are running wild throughout the family. Attachments have been made that run deep with everyone involved. My wife knows that Trooper has been a handful, but, also realizes the attachment Andrew and Thomas have made with Trooper, taking him to the Golf Frisbee range each evening and the attachment I have with taking him everywhere I go, and especially hiking at the lake on Sunday mornings. He has learned to fetch, although he doesn’t like to return the ball to me, but would rather hide with it under the table. He will eventually return it with enough begging.
I taught him to play dead when I pretend to shoot him with my pointed finger, a trick that my boy’s enjoy showing all their friend’s. Two years have passed and the truth is that Trooper has spent more time with us than he has with his owner in his entire live. Trooper is anal about barking at every teenager that comes through the door, letting everyone know that slipping in during the wee hours of the morning will not be tolerated. Still I have constantly reminded everyone in the home that this is a “Foster pet” and someday he must return home. Now that day has come.
His owner shows up and we all take turns with our hugs and kisses and shed our tears as he heads out the gate, jumps into the truck, and disappears around the corner. Of the two dogs, Missy Lou seems to be in the most depression as she watches the gates and looks behind me each time I come home without Trooper behind me.
But, this isn’t where it ends!

A week later we receive a call that Trooper has escaped from his owner during a walk and cannot be found. The Apartment complex is gated and fenced, so he must be somewhere within the 14 acre facility. No-one can find him and he won’t come when called. We load up and drive over to the complex, splitting up in search parties along with most of the apartment staff, we begin looking under cars, shrubs and along fences. Finally my wife spots him under a tree and calls out to him. Trooper leaps into her arms and gives her the face licking of her life, and everyone breaks down crying. He is handed over to his owner once again, with specific instructions not to release him from his leash while on walks, and we all return to our respective homes where we live on to Foster Happily ever after.

The Great Escape artist!

This is the ongoing saga of Cinnamon and Cheyanne.  These are two lab sisters that have been at the shelter on and off since they were 6 weeks old.  At about 3 mons both girls were adopted together.  At about 6 mons they were returned because they could not be cotained by the fence that the family was allowed to build where they live.  The girls are completely vetted and spayed.  We will have to re-test for HW at this point. 

Anyway the new chapter!!  On October 12, I received an email from Red CollarRescue in Houston saying they would take them.  I was very excited because the girls are now 8 mons old.  I had transport arranged and the day before they were leaving, they escaped out of their kennel and could not be found.  Until TODAY!!  They are now back at the shelter, thin from their month on the run.  We were driving down the road to the shelter and saw them.  We pulled into a parking lot and they saw us and came running to the van.  So now we start the merry-go-round again to find them foster or rescue.  They are great girls and obviously meant to be together.  It still amazes me that after be loose on their own for a month, they were still together.

So if you can help these girls, please let me know.  And please forward their story and ask for help for them.  Thank you for your consideration.

Krista Mc Anally

Humane Society of Cedar Creek Lake

Tool TX - Approx 52 miles SE of Dallas

903 432-3422

See our Adoptable Pets at www.hsccl.org

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