Amazed in Anza

 

 The good old Rav 4’s front passenger tire was holding up well despite having carelessly colliding with a tumbleweed, which should really be called tumblebombs, causing a slow leak.  We kept an eye on it.  

The sun was setting over Anza as we pulled into the towns one lonely market for some food supplies and to change.  Veronika opted not to change in the porter john and was struggling out of a difficult shirt to put on a sports bra when I said, “he’s looking right at you!” the store clerk had come out to water plants or some other façade in an attempt to conceal his voyeurism, he was only two feet from the car.  He caught me catching him and, blushing, he turned his back.

Christiana with Princess... I think

Meet the hoof pick, before I pick up your leg...

I opened the gate to Green Mountain Refuge so Veronika could pull the car down the dirt driveway towards the house.  We approached the door and I wondered what kind of dog they would have and the answer was many! “There are like ten dogs at the door,“ I said over my shoulder as Christiana, the ranch owner and operator greeted us.  A rush of furry excitement bottlenecked the doorway, each K9 of all shapes, sizes, breeds and ages bulldozed over one another to sniff the new comers but in 15 minutes they were, every one of them, calm submissive and laying by our feet, in arms, on sofas, chairs and dog beds.  We were overwhelmed with all the loving dog energy everywhere you looked and curled lovingly around every kitten. 

Christiana spoke of our Hostel friend, Eddie, who’d connected us here with her.  He’d come to work after sustaining a brain injury, relearning certain things physically while healing emotionally and mentally.  She sent his love to him through us, wishing he could have stayed forever. We were introduced to her spritely ranch hand Julie, who had taken Eddie’s place and would be putting us to work bright and early.

Budda Baby

Green Mountain Refuge is a non-profit rescue facility, never turning down a horse, dog or cat in need.  Christiana, mother of one and lover of all things animal, was preparing her proposal for a non-profit, self-sustaining elementary school she named Green Acres Sustainable Living Farm.  The foundation for the school lies in the basics: to teach children from a young age how to live off the earth without depleting its resources, recycle waste, meditate, be creative… basically all the elements that are missing now from public schools. She would be presenting the next day to town officials in a press release and so dabbed on hair color in the kitchen mirror; focused on looking her best.  In order to raise money to keep her rescue and home running, Christiana bakes confections fit for Gods.  We gluttonously helped ourselves to extra gluten and dairy banana cake and brownies that are meant to go to pastry shops in LA and surrounding areas. It was impossible to stop, they were addictive, one morning the mere thought of it lured me out of bed.

Bella, sweetest bully

Just horsin around

As promised, we awoke to the sounds of names being hollered. “CODY! COOPER! TUCKER! LUUUUUKE!” Moments later, a heard of elephants barreled across the front porch and piled into the kitchen! Oh. No.  Just dogs.  The sun wasn’t up yet and the stars were blazing their brightest, like a runner sprinting to the finish knowing he would soon be rewarded with rest.  I splashed some warm water on my face, there was no cold water, bundled up to the tip of my nose and rode three or four dogs down the steps.  Julie was bounding around bushy tailed as we spread flakes of hay for the horses. It took about an hour to rake and scoop all the poop, I felt the memory in my muscle from years of shoveling manure as a girl.  The morning chores put us in a quiet and meditative state so that by the time we were to pick all 68 hooves I was completely centered.  Everyone picked up their feet obligingly and I was a kid again, brushing and currying while necks leaned into the grooming, targeting their itchy spots and then showing gratitude with furry hugs and snuggles. I bet you didn’t know horses snuggle, they do.  Dogs ran in and around bands of ponies and horses and no one spooked or budged.  There is a harmony between the different species of animals, co existing with people and I don’t believe it would work like that anywhere else on earth than on that slice of happy energized desert land run by two bad ass women.  We took a break from chores to visit their horse, Gypsy, who refuses to return to the refuge via trailer or ride.  On this farm we were followed, suspiciously, by a wolf dog.  I followed Cesar’s advice and remained calm assertive and soon he was licking my palm and by my side confidently.

Later in the afternoon I walked into the Green Mountain paddock and stood alone, quietly, as a slender Arab mare trotted curiously to my side, sniffing me head to toe playfully but would not let me pet her.  I later learned it had been Maggie, the horse Eddie had bonded with during his stay.  Good taste, Eddie! Budda, the colt of a horse Christiana deeply regrets re-homing, followed me around from the moment I brushed him until I left.  Anytime I walked through a gate or doorway, four dogs and two cats would seize the opportunity to escape to the outdoors, while 3 collided their way in to check out the house, curl up and take a nap. I was in heaven, visiting the fruition of my own childhood dream in someone else’s life!

Miss Maggie

Chicken Coop where Veronika offered her Chicken Shaman
Advice!

The next morning, equipped with permagrin, Veronika mounted Princess the regal white Arab mare and I hopped face first, ever so gracefully, onto Maura.  As soon as I was seated, the whisperer in me took over and my body fell into position as we walked the property waiting for Julie and Christiana.  Christiana rode bareback; farm life hardened every muscle in her body and she might as well have been riding a raging bull with those thighs! She’s an endurance rider and Arabs are the perfect breed for it.  I galloped farther and faster than I have in years! I grabbed the saddle and rocked into the rhythm, wind in my hair and breath in my soul.  An eternity fit into the few moments of flight, Maura was aching to go and I trusted her to help me keep balance.  A true cowgirl at heart, I left a piece of it on the dusty road.  Veronika beamed, her first canter had her hooked, she exclaimed “I could get used to this!”

For the last few hours on the farm Veronika led a mini intuitive art session with Christiana and her daughter Dylan, Julie and I.  Continuously I am surprised by the opportunities that arise for us to utilize our talents and run our classes on this trip! We promised to return and send other amazing women through her gate.  I said goodbye silently to all the furry beauties refreshed and lightened again.