Laura E. Reeve, Science Fiction & Fantasy Author

Ode to Dogs and Horses

Kaku at his window

I grew up in a rural area between Boulder and Lafayette, CO, when there were open fields everywhere that you could take your horses through (don't look for them now—they're covered with houses as far as the eye can see). My family 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 just been that pack or herd instinct they have. Regardless, I love them all, present and past.


Kaku is currently the dog in charge of our house and pack. He's a cream-colored Shiba Inu and you can see by the picture (at left) that he takes his job seriously. Contrary to popular opinion, Shiba Inus can be trained because I took him through PetSmart's beginning and intermediate classes. We did have to go through the intermediate class twice to graduate. All I can say is that even a picky Shiba Inu will heel well on a leash when you're carrying raw hot dog in your hand.


Sunny in Colorado Springs

Sunny was named by the people who rescued her from euthenasia at a Vet assistant school. She was a real beauty, but she had issues as many older dogs do. She was terrified of thunder, which you can hear practically every afternoon in summer in Colorado, sometimes distant and sometimes crashing overhead. If I left her inside, she'd destroy the house in her desperation to escape. If I left her outside, I'd find the fence torn apart or siding pulled off the house and often, she had escaped. I'd wander the neighborhood and finally sit at home waiting for the call when somebody found her, hopefully safe and usually miles away. I finally finished a small room downstairs in masonite to contain her during the summer thunderstorm season. 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 enjoyed her company.


Dagwood in snow with mouth open, of course

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 sickness and hangovers, sleepiness, laziness, or anything else that might make one feel less than inclined to get out of bed). 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, he'd march off to the bedroom, 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 and my younger sister could take care of ourselves so our mother could go back to work. We also had to take care of the horses, which we agreed to do. I trailered them myself to 4H meetings and shows. When we moved to a larger parcel of land so we could grow our own hay and have more horses, I helped my father build the barn. I also helped load bales in the truck and store them in the barn.

Hickory, a 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 was transferred to Florida. The opportunity to have horses hasn't happened since, but I still have fond memories (and my tack packed up in storage).

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