“Exactly,” I say. “Now go clean up so we can eat. I’m looking forward to feeding those turtles.”
“Tortoises, Mama,” she sighs. “Turtles are completely different. You know that.”
Laughing, I rub my hands together, trying to bring warmth back into my fingers.
I did know that.
I’m always testing how much she’s paying attention.
After doing a quick check of tomorrow’s calendar, I sigh when I see it’s hoof day for Hope.
When she first came to us, her poor hooves were so overgrown they curled up at the ends. She could barely walk.
Now, they’re at a reasonable length, which means I can take care of them myself.
Trimming and cleaning hooves isn’t exactly my favorite job. It’s hard work, rough on the back… and the thighs… and pretty much every other part of my body. I do have equipment that helps hold their legs in place, but that doesn’t make it easy.
I have workers who help with this task, but they’re all men, and Hope is skittish around men, so I’ll handle her myself.
Even though she was malnourished when she came to us, she’s still a big, strong girl.
And scared horses don’t always remember how big and strong they are.
“I’m heading home, ma’am.”
Turning, I smile at Rory standing on the other side of my screen door.
“Is Hope in her stall?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a nod. “She even let me lead her without kicking me.”
“Progress,” I say, smiling.
“See you in the morning.”
He smiles, nods, then walks away.
Rory is a good man. He’s been with me for years now and manages the sanctuary during those rare moments when I’m not able to.
He’s handsome, but I think Livy’s right. He’s not the right man for me. I can appreciate that he’s attractive, but I’ve never felt any real pull toward him.
Not that it matters.
“Mama, can we give the tortoises strawberries?” Livy yells from her room. “Oh, and those big leaves?”
Laughing, I head to the kitchen to pull dinner out of the oven.
“Maybe just one strawberry,” I call back. “They’ve been out in the yard all day, so they’ve had plenty to eat. We just need to bring them to their enclosure for the night.”
“But we have so many fruits,” she says.
“Honey, remember, these are not our pets. They’re not meant to be pets. We need to give them as natural a life as possible before they’re released. That means no extra store-bought foods and making sure they have a shallow water area. Even desert tortoises can get dehydrated, which is why they’re with us to begin with.”
“So only one strawberry?” Livy asks, walking into the room.
I nod.
“Is that meatloaf? Yummy.”
