I grew up in a rural area outside Boulder, CO. We always had dogs and, once my sister and I were old enough to care for them, horses. This page honors the animals that were such an integral part of my life. I like to think they supported me in their own ways (although it might have been that instinctual pack or herd thing).
Sunny was named by the people who rescued her from euthenasia at a Vet Assistant school. She was a real beauty, but as can be the case with older dogs, she had her own ideas about who ran the household. The only thing she hated more than water was thunderstorms. I had to finish a small room downstairs in masonite to contain her during the summer thunderstorm season, or she'd destroy the house. One day I found a Sunny-sized hole torn in the room's door, which I then replaced with a steel-covered model. Even though I lost molding, doors, walls, furniture, etc, during the summer, I still miss her.
Dagwood was rescued in Albuquerque. He lived with me for a couple months, then I was re-assigned and couldn't find a place that allowed dogs. I had to dump him on my parents (bless them for their patience and their love of dogs -- although my mother can't let me forget about his puppy episode of chewing). I took him again when I came back from overseas. Dagwood didn't grow into a beauty, but he was energetic, loyal, and very, very smart. He always stuck to the "schedule" and made sure I was up at 5:30 a.m., unless I was sick (and believe me, he could tell the difference between laziness and sickness). If I had guests in the evening, he'd try to get everybody's attention at bedtime with an announcement. If I didn't shut down revelries (at 9:30!), he'd march off to his bed, muttering and grumbling. He always seemed so close to articulating himself in our language. Makes you wonder...
My parents were kind enough to support my passion for horses, once I was old enough to care for them. I trailered them myself to 4H meetings and shows. Hickory, the buckskin, was our first horse and we found he LOVED peanut butter. Then came the 3/4 Arab mare Marada, my favorite (although she hated peanut butter). Over the years, we took in a few other horses for short periods: Tandy the pony, Sheba the Arab mare, and an AQHA colt that my sister rode after I left for college. I bought and boarded a mare while I was stationed in Albuquerque, but she had to be sold when I transferred to Florida. The chance to live with horses hasn't come up since, but I have fond memories (and my tack still packed in storage).