Jack has been trotting to his turnouts lately. I know that I am not the only one who is relieved that he has regained a bit of spring in his step and an interest in participating in his own life again. Over the course of the last several ye…ars, Jack has suffered considerable losses. I am not referring to the obvious in that he had been abandoned and left to die with four geriatric friends. Left without food or water, together they had almost tragically perished before coming to the safety of Red Bucket. I am referring to the loss of his friends, deep meaningful relationships. Cheyenne had been placed very early on, but the other friends were nurtured and rehabilitated at Red Bucket to the tune of a combined weight gain of about 1200 pounds, the equivalent of a whole horse, and a very big one at that. At Red Bucket, they enjoyed their lives and each other in a new world of respect, dignity and safety. Their relationship stayed intact with group turnout time and shared living quarters. Their bond grew even stronger as they transitioned from being survivors to being saved.
 
Speaking for the Red Riding Hoods, it was an honor to participate in saving and loving these horses. While they had suffered greatly prior to being rescued, their final days were spent not only healthy and happy, but dearly cherished and respected. Those of us who were around in the early days of Red Bucket still speak with a deep fondness that also brings a warm memory of some of the most remarkable, loyal, and grateful horses. My moments of deep reflection are often traced with the lessons that McGraw the benevolent, Ledger the selfless, Styles the dignified, and Jack the loyal, imparted. While it is said that we all leave a legacy, the legacy of the “Malibu Five” is one of a commitment in that we will always open our gates to welcome the old, the crippled, and the rejected. The word “rescue” implies just that, and it is often the elderly horses that have given their entire lives so that their humans can ride, show, race, and learn, only to be deserted when they can no longer perform.
 
Today, 30 year old Jack spends his enrichment time with Brinkley, a young bossy mare that makes him feel alive again, and a somewhat disabled baby donkey named Joey. They have formed a little herd, a family really. Their dynamics mirror many modern families in a horsey kind of way. Brinkley the matriarch and Jack quietly graze nose to nose and spend a great deal of time gently grooming each other. They seem amused by Joey’s silly games and donkey antics. When Joey’s persistent play becomes very annoying, or he dares to try to nurse, Brinkley will firmly discipline him with semi-pinned ears or a warning kick. Giant Jack, on the other hand, who also bunks with the half pint sized burro, patiently endures the repeated attempts to “wrestle” and appears surprisingly tolerant of donkey tantrums, even when they come by way of baby barrel kicks or donkey head butts. Once returned to their stalls, Jack and Joey eat side by side, the wise old soul and the darling donkey with crooked ears and a vulnerability hidden beneath a curly coat and a somewhat naughty demeanor.
 
During my last rounds at night, or “bed checks” if you will, I find myself the most grateful. Our horses are nibbling their hay nets or dozing lightly in a bed of shavings. They have retired for the evening, having been exercised, groomed, and touched extensively. They are safe and they know it. I know that they will stay safe; that is my job and I take it seriously. By this time, Joey is burrowed into a little ball in his bedding, and Jack stands over him, renewed by having a purpose.
 
Happy Holidays to all of our friends. Thank you to all who make it possible for us to continue to save and serve.