“He’ll be a good husband for someone… but he’s just not the one for you. He’s too nice.”
“Is that so?” I ask. “Do you know what kind of husband I need?”
“Of course,” she says, opening the door and ushering me inside. “It has to be someone who can be stern when he needs to be. Because you’re as stubborn as a bull, Mama. You’re always outside working with the animals even when you shouldn’t be. Like tonight. You know what happens when you get too cold.”
“Olivia, it’s not your job to take care of me,” I tell her. “You’re a ten-year-old little girl. And I know my limits, honey.”
“Maybe so, Mama,” she says, crossing her arms, “but when it comes to the horses…or me…you don’t think about yourself. That’s why you need a husband who will toss you over his shoulder and carry your butt back into the house.”
I bite back a smile.
“And I need a daddy who can toss me over his shoulder andplopme on a horse.”
Priorities.
My girl has priorities.
Keeping me warm… and helping her on horses.
“Well,” I say, “for now, it’s time to wash up for dinner. And if you eat everything on your plate, I’ll let you come with me to do night checks on the animals.”
“Really?” she asks, uncrossing her arms and bouncing on her toes. “On all the animals?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “All the animals.”
“Heck yeah!” she shouts.
While my Sanctuary is mostly horses, we do have several other rescue animals boarding with us. Three kids…aka baby goats…whose mama was killed in a coyote attack, a fox with a broken leg, a blind bobcat… who is hateful and will absolutely eat your face if you get too close, and two desert tortoises.
Those are rare and protected, so when they’re injured, they’re brought here for temporary care until the vets can get them back in shape.
Not to mention eight horses.
“Even Bobcat Bill?”
“You know Bobcat Bill is a girl, right?” I ask.
“Then Bobcat Billie.”
Laughing, I shake my head.
“Yes, even Bobcat Billie. But you have to stay five feet away from her enclosure at all times. I just need to do a quick check to make sure she’s okay before locking everything up.”
Livy nods, her face bright as the sun.
I love my job. I love that my daughter loves it.
But she sometimes forgets that abused and injured animals don’t behave normally.
Not that a bobcat is ever nice to a little girl who looks like food.
But I digress.
“Does she get to stay with us forever?” Livy asks. “Since she’s blind and can’t be released back into the wild?”
“Only until the rescue team can find a proper sanctuary for her,” I admit. “We’re not equipped to house a bobcat permanently. Especially a blind one. She needs a specialist who can help her live the best life possible.”
“A bobcat specialist… like you’re a horse specialist?” she asks.
