It's strange how many times in the first days of each New Year I’m reminded in one way or another of 'Born Free' - an epic tale of love that as a
kid I absorbed straight into my soul.
Those three lion cubs rescued by Joy Adamson and her husband George, and yes - especially, Elsa.
Because of Elsa, my heart grew to be something ‘more’ for those things that were considered to be ‘less’.
The wild rats in the neighborhood who’d been attacked by cats and needed a bandage, splint, food and safety.
That one legged duckling at a kids zoo I stole and took home because I heard whispers they were going to ‘destroy it.’
In a strange world overseas, a kitten I found and her yowling cost me my lodgings. NO CATS! I ended up as much of a stray as she for a while.
On to Iguanas with broken toes and tails to tarantulas with missing legs.
And let me not forget those animals who threatened my life.
A raccoon made into a live pincushion embedded with porcupine quills that cost me weeks of unpleasant rabies vaccinations after I pulled those quills
A coyote pup I still can’t admit to.
A little brown bat, followed by many others who I ‘nursed’ into flight & release after they consumed so many hours of my time and I was sure
gallons of goat’s milk I could only feed them a drop at a time.
A gorgeous black Fischer cat kit injured and having taken refuge in my barn in New Hampshire (where those animals were all legend). After a great
many scratches and bites checking and repairing her wounds. After many tins of wet cat food, sardines and love. There was that one and only stoke of
her fur, a long slow pet before she went - free.
The lists of the other ‘saves’ read almost boring until I remember Solchi the Praying Mantis who befriended me in my garden so soon after followed
by a seagull and the hawk, both with broken wings, both who flew again.
So, no matter who - big or small - each and every ‘rescue’ to me, is Elsa.
I see her in every animal that’s ever needed something from a human that for a human was hard to give.
And even in the losses, and there have been many, I've gotten back more from my strays, rescues and unwanted(s) than I've ever given.
I’m blessed with my animals.
The goats from Terri I lost to the pitbull attack and the ones she gifted me after.
#100 and his get.
Mr. & Mrs. Bean those first pigeons 30 years ago.
That last little brown bat who lived and flew away.
That possum (jack or jill?) who’s right now nestled in a box behind my woodstove - don't tell.
On to the next kitten who wants to snuggle or wild thing that finds its way, my way.
They’re all, Elsa.
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