Intervention

Several years ago my most favorite guilty pleasure was watching the television show “Intervention”. I was always excited to see people go from the depths of despair to a full life of hope and healing. Most often, that is what would happen. The show would chronicle the life of an addict, an intervention would take place, recovery and then a reunion and update at the end. On occasion the addict would choose not to go to or to leave treatment early and the result was an unhappy ending.

Recent events at the farm and the current heated political environment have got me thinking about other forms of intervention. On Mothers Day, my friend called me while I was out lunching with my mom and sister. One of the young barn cats, 7months old, had just given birth and they had found 5 babies in 3 different areas of the barn. The mom was not interested in feeding a couple of the babies, so they had taken the one that was in the worst shape with them and were driving to the feed store to buy some kitten formula. Upon hearing the news, we cut our outing short and I returned to the farm.

Over the next few days I would spend countless hours trying to entice the mom to nurse her babies, for those she would not nurse I was bottle feeding them. The mom would randomly move the kittens around the hayloft and I would struggle to get to them when they would cry for food. Slowly and one by one they started to die. After the first two deaths, I took the remaining 3 kittens into the house.  They were very sick with pneumonia and were struggling to breathe. I spent the next two weeks medicating, feeding, and cleaning the kittens. Two more would suffer deaths by suffocation as I could not get a handle on the illness. At one point, I was holding a dying kitten begging my husband to help me end its life as it was suffering so much. My husband refused to help me saying, “You got involved, you have to see this thing through.”  He was right. I had gotten involved. I had chosen to interrupt the nature of life for these kittens. Had I made a good decision? After two more kittens had passed and I had spent countless hours researching feline illness and talking with the Carver Scott humane society, I had one kitten that was thriving. She was doing great! She was eating, sleeping, breathing, pooping and playing with my kids. For 3 weeks she thrived.

Then out of nowhere, she choked on something. Food, litter, I don’t know, but within a matter of minutes of my return from a baseball game, she was dead.  I had fed her right before I left, and she was fine and only three breaths after I picked her up on my return and she was dead.  Really!?!? Why did this happen?  I could only sit and stare at her thinking about the number of hours we had spend giving her care and attention, only to have her die too. 

In the hours that followed, I tried to make sense of all that we had gone through. I kept coming back to the same question, “Should I have gotten involved?” Should I have just left the kittens in the barn and let nature take its course? The end result was the same. What difference had it made?

In my quiet moments, the whisper I heard in response was this, “The end result was in fact the same, but the journey was very different.” These kittens died in our arms, not on a cold barn floor. They felt warmth and love, and kindness and kisses. They experienced the love and giggles of children who marveled at their existence. They were not alone.

As I listen to the world around me and hear people’s ideology about when to help others and in what manner, I am always stunned by those who don’t want to “get involved” in “taking care” of others. Those who believe they have it all figured out and know exactly how we and our government should or should not help our fellow citizens. Aid, or no aid, welfare, or no welfare, I have no idea as to what we should or should not do. But I do know this. Regardless of the outcome, the world at large is better when we unite and create a community around those who are suffering, sick or in need.  So title me however you want politically, but as for me, I will always choose to get involved. I believe that is what God wants us to do.

Charlie

I had just looked back at my blog entries and could not believe I have not written an entry since August! Yikes! What’s the matter with me? So I started to reflect on several reasons why that might be and I came back time and again to the name Charlie. What is in a name? Well, I have known many named Charlie, and still do know a Charlie or too in my life. This fall, though, that name has changed for me. See, a few years ago two particular “Charlie’s” came into my life.

The first was a kitten, no more than 8 weeks old. We had been camping at a friend’s property in Deerwood, Minnesota. My second son wanted a cat desperately. Since we were in the process of moving from our longtime home in the Suburb of Deephaven, Minnesota to our new farm home in Carver, Minnesota the timing was right to bring a cat into the situation. It was June 2009. We happened upon a “Free Kittens” sign on our way into town for a few supplies. Who in their right mind picks out a kitten when they are camping? ME!

My son and I stopped at the home and from the woods, mama cat and her two kittens came bounding out. The first was a little fuzzy Siamese female and My son was immediately in love. He had to have her. The second was a male Mainecoon, cute as could be with his long hair and fluffy body. Right then and there I could not leave him behind. My husband would just have to deal with two new kittens instead of one…..

In the spring of 2010, my good friend and I went to see about a horse named Charlie. We drove north an hour or so and stopped at the hobby farm he was living at. Charlie was a big black Appendix gelding. He was quite tall, and very skinny. His current owner had not ridden him in about two years and she was feeding him only hay which would account for his slight physique. My friend got on him to ride and he was not impressive. He had a knack for standing still and shaking his head up and down violently. Still, against our better judgment, we decided Charlie needed to come home with us.

The first months with Charlie the horse were focused on getting him to accept a bit in his mouth, to let us touch his ears and to get him to put on some weight.  An amazing thing happens when good and gentle care is given to a horse, they blossom. And that is exactly what Charlie did. He bloomed into a wonderful dressage horse. He was my steady “Eddie”. He was the one who anyone could ride, our big, beautiful boy. He eventually gained 150+ pounds and was quite a looker, but at the high point of his flowering, my friend and I knew that something was not right with his hips. He was stiff a lot and his canter left a lot to be desired. We knew that at sometime in his prior life, some sort of accident must have taken place.

Now, Back to the little kittens….The little girl was named Emma and the name Charlie was given to the little boy.  Emma and Charlie were inside cats for the first summer and then they were allowed to be in and out as they pleased the following summer. Henry showed Emma that August at the Carver County fair and won a blue ribbon. It was a very exciting day. Later that week we couldn’t find Emma anywhere. She was always in at night and one evening she didn’t show up.  A few days later a search party hiked around the property and returned with only her pink collar. Her bell had given her away to a pack of coyotes.

Since then we have had barn cats come and go, but Charlie has always been there as the wise “older” cat. Charlie the horse was my main ride in the herd and he always took care of me. 

This fall, both of my Charlie’s have passed away.  First came the day that my friend and I realized that the hip issues we had hoped would pass were finally causing Charlie the horse some real pain and issues. Confirmations from the farrier, trainer and veterinarian would seal the deal and Charlie was put down. My friend and I chose to have him put to sleep here at the farm, he always got nervous in new places and we wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. As we were leading him to “the spot” (a grassy plot on the property away from the barn) tears were steadily streaming on both of our faces. My friend stopped Charlie to stand him square as the vet readied the needle. Charlie stretched his head and pulled my friend into his chest and hugged her as if he knew this would be their last moments together here on earth.

Last Monday morning I went down to the barn to do the morning chores. Right now we have 4 newer kittens in the barn and as the weather has turned cold I have been bringing them wet cat food each morning. As I entered the barn, I noticed that in the heated cat bed (yes we heat a bed for our barn cats) was Charlie the cat, sleeping. I went about the business of letting out the chickens and I opened the cat food and placed it on the counter a few feet away from Charlie. Oddly, his eyes opened but, he did not move for it. I finished feeding the horses, ducks and goats and started to walk to leave the barn, when I was struck by Charlie’s unusual behavior. As I approached him something in his eye told me he was not ok. As I lifted him out of the bed, he cried and continued to do so until I got up to the house and had him securely wrapped in a blanket on the kitchen counter as I franticly called the vet’s office.  Something had attacked him. His entire back side was torn open and internal organs were now external.  The vet would not be in for hours and Charlie’s breathing was shallow.

For both of my Charlie’s, I had to be a part of the decision about when they would die.  When do you take extensive measures and when do you give someone, or something peace. I still don’t know. Maybe these chapters at the farm are to help me understand that in any situation, I have to have faith in my judgment.  That one can never really know if the best decision has been made. That all I can do is look into the eye of my cat, or my horse and know them well enough to see their non-verbal choice. Do you ever really know an animal well enough to make that choice for them? I have to believe it is possible, as the alternative, for me, is unbearable. 

 Above: Charlie the cat protecting my garden.

 Above: Charlie the cat cozy in my drawer.

 Above: Charlie the horse saying "hello!" to my daughter and my friend's daughter.

 Above: Charlie the horse (left) sharing hay with our other horse (right) Cheval.