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So there I was. Alone. In the woods. My chainsaw as my talisman – it was me…or the tree…It was perhaps one of the largest trees on my property, two chainsaw lengths across. It was my Goliath. It stood in silent challenge. Silent because it was dead which is one of the reasons I chose it as my opponent. The other was I had never cut down a tree that large. Well, not and still had a chainsaw bar that was straight.

I approached with stealth as I surveyed my archnemesis. It was midway through the second cut that it occurred to me to ponder the wisdom of cutting down a tree that big, the realization suddenly hitting me that I’d have to carry the pieces of it out to the tractor which stood out in the open trail.

Then it hit me. Excalibur. My new 50 horsepower diesel steed, it’s front end loader standing in challenge to all that needed carrying. Or grading. Or lifting up. Or dumping out. Or just driving around the pasture because diesels sound so cool…. Others have used their tractors to skidsteer the logs out – why should I be denied that right?

There came a point in the battle when we stood there. Goliath. Myself. Excalibur. Waiting. The cut went 3/4 of the way through. Professional loggers die due to things like this. I bought my chainsaw because it had a cool handle and “anti-vibration” shock absorbers…. Do I cut more? Do I wait for a windy day to finish it off? No. That seemed cruel. Plus, I started this battle with a roaring Husqvarna, it was time to finish it. The snow-covered silence of the woods once again gave way to the growl of my Husqy, which eagerly bit back into the trunk…finally…a small crack… I backed away. In short order, Goliath swayed once and began its plunge to forest floor. I tipped my cowboy hat in silent salute to the fallen forest sentry.

After cutting the tree into sections and wrapping a long cable around it and knocking down a huge section of my woods with my new metal charge – we battled. We fought. Tires dug themselves in to ruts. Several times I had to re-group, the only thing moving was the gentley wafting haze of my cigar smoke as I wondered if amateurs should really attempt feats like this with new equipment.
Suddenly we broke free of the woods into the clearing, emerging dragging sections of tree into the clear where despite what the manual says I still managed to get those sections into the bucket and came home long after the sun set, moving majestically through the wintery night across a moonlit pasture, signal and headlights ablaze, to pose for the pictures you now see, to show those those naysaying detractors about the battle they would never believe occurred.

This is the story of one cowboy’s exploits aboard his steel horse, Excalibur, and their heart-wrenching victory against all odds. Boldly going where no amateur has gone before.

Dearest Redneck Son,

I’m writing this slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live in Ohio where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address because the last Buckeye family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so they wouldn’t have to change their address.

This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure about it. I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven’t seen them since.

The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days.

About that coat you wanted me to send; your Uncle Billy Bob said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven’t found out what it is yet so I don’t know if you are an aunt or uncle.

Uncle Bobbie Ray fell into a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated, he burned for three days.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down!

There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.

Your Favorite Aunt,

Mom

We win, they lose.’

- Ronald Reagan

‘The most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the government and I’m here to help.’

-Ronald Reagan

‘The trouble with our liberal friends is not that they’re ignorant; it’s just that they know so much that isn’t so.’

-Ronald Reagan

‘Of the four wars in my lifetime, none came about because the U.S. was too strong.’- Ronald Reagan

‘I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandments would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress.’

-Ronald Reagan

‘The taxpayer: That’s someone who works for the federal government but doesn’t have to take the civil service examination.’

- Ronald Reagan

‘Government is like a baby: An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other..’-

Ronald Reagan

‘The nearest thing to eternal life we will ever see on this earth is a government program.’ -

Ronald Reagan

‘It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first.’

- Ronald Reagan

‘Government’s view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it’

– Ronald Reagan

‘Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed, there are many rewards; if you disgrace yourself, you can always write a book.’

- Ronald Reagan

‘No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is as formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women.’-

Ronald Reagan

‘If we ever forget that we’re one nation under GOD, then we will be a nation gone under.’

-Ronald Reagan

March 2nd, 9:01pm: While cleaning Windchill’s stall we found a notebook. In it was a letter he had ‘dictated’ to one of his caregivers. It was a note he wanted to send to all of the children who had written him:

Windchill’s letter to all the children

February 28th, 8:23am: Windchill was up  standing and walking around most of the night – munching away and drinking most of his water. He sure loves the alfalfa! He’s in a really sweet mood this morning and trying to get up. You can certainly feel the difference in his neck, where he’s developing muscles and beginning to fill out. He’s also gotten heavier to lift and is standing taller so we’ll probably have to raise the winch up a bit.

We’ve gotten quite a few emails regarding visiting the little guy. Only weekday visitors need to be pre-scheduled by us- this coming Saturday is open to everyone all day – no reservations needed. Sunday the barn will be closed to visitors.

If you do come visit we ask that you please remember the barn is very similar to a hospital room or a nursery – indoor voices only, please do not bring your pets, if you do bring children please explain to them the need to walk and talk calmly in the barn area and that Windchill can only be fed the hay in the stall and limited other items we will have on hand. With 19 other horses to visit while you’re here, there’s plenty of opportunities to pet and feed lots of horses, a dog and cats. Barn & Farm Rules

One thing I think that needs to be addressed is “why.” We’ve heard people say “why didn’t you just put him down… what a tremendous waste of resources…why spend the time keeping an animal alive…” That certainly would’ve been the easiest thing to do. Quick and easy, just the way our society has come to expect things. Who is going to miss an animal, right? I bet even those suggesting he should’ve “just been shot” (how do you become that callous?) have had a pet in their lifetime they would’ve done anything to save. Perhaps that’s why they’re hardened today. A special animal finds its way into your heart. It expects very little in return. For you business types the “return on investment” for what you spend feeding and taking care of your pet produces an incredible return in love, companionship and adoration. You don’t have to be a horse lover – you cat lovers know what it’s like to talk to your cat as you get ready in the morning or have it sit next to you at night while you read or watch TV. You dog lovers know what it’s like to be working on projects around your place and have that constant presence of a being that thinks you’re the greatest. (The difference between cats and dogs – and I have both – is that cats know they’re smarter than you, dogs think you’re just brilliant: “What! You’re letting me out to go potty! That’s great!….what? You’re letting me back in the house now? What a great idea – where do you come up with all these brilliant ideas master!”). We got a call from a gentleman who cares for gerbils. He had some tips to share. For virtually any species, there’s somebody who loves and cares for them.

So back to the “why.” We knew it was a battle with odds overwhelmingly stacked against the little guy even surviving the first night, much less the bitter cold that followed for night after night. We knew he’d have major expenses if he survived. Our assumption was that it would go on my charge cards and over time they’d get paid off – worry about that later. The “why” is a series of ‘because’ answers: Because we had to try; because we would want someone to try and save us if we were in the same awful circumstance; because humans had put him in this position and because it was our duty as humans to try and get him out of it – he didn’t ask to be born, he didn’t ask to be neglected — all he asked for when he called to us across that wind-swept, bitterly cold pasture was to please help him stop hurting. He needed us, he deserved that help, and he got it. And lastly, because he is as much one of the Lord’s beings as any one of us. He was no less deserving of a chance at life, and possibly even more so to make up for what his life had become up til then with his slow death march through the valley of starvation and neglect. I think someday we as people will in part be judged in how we treated those beings that God entrusted us with dominion over. It’s a measure of who we are.

Across this country and in fact the world,  people have been praying and sending him notes of encouragement.  They have been sending donations, and they have been coming out to see him and help with him in droves! The Ericksen’s (the Larry and Char - the horse people I told you about earlier) actually printed out his guestbook yesterday and put it in a three ring binder for us to keep near Windchill – all 193 pages. Windchill’s amazing will to survive, and his willingness to accept us humans even after all this is an inspiration to those who have been hurt in some way. Windchill probably doesn’t understand that he’s the definition of resolve. He doesn’t fight for his life every day because he will possibly be in the paper. He does this because he wants to live.  It’s his quiet testament that there is power in hope. There is power in prayer. Unintentionally, he brought all of you together – and you have all made carrying the load so much easier. For that we are so grateful. And that’s “why.”

Windchill belongs to the world. We’re just lucky enough that he’s here with us.

Jeff Tucker

One other thing – we didn’t choose for Windchill to live – he did. He asked for our help across that pasture, we gave it. His continued existence is the result of his intense desire to live. Had he chosen to let go and die, at most we could’ve made him feel comfortable until he passed and then we’d have been there with him so he didn’t face it alone. Just wanted to clarify that for those that judge without having looked into Windchill’s bright eyes for themselves.

Windchill sleeps in

Blankets were rotated each day, and Windchill himself was turned over every couple of hours and the straw was cleaned, hay was freshened, he was held up usually by pushing your knees under his shoulder and neck so that he could drink and munch on the special mix that was recommended by the experts we were working with at the time.

02/14, 5:00am: Kathi swapped out the ‘moms’ watching over Windchill, letting Annie out for a well deserved respite, and bringing in Dance who immediately began looking over the stall wall with her kind, caring eyes. She hasn’t stopped watching over the little guy since seeing him. The long hours are taking their toll on the caregivers. Dark circles are under everyone’s eyes. The cold works its way into your joints and body, sapping energy. And this is just us sitting with him in couple hour shifts – imagine what being in that 24/7 is like. We’ve had a couple more volunteers offer to come sit with him which should help ease up the wear and tear on the small number of folks we have at the moment. Windchill sends mixed messages of hope and then despair. His few attempts to stand have wiped him out. One moment he seems able to get himself up into a position he can eat and drink water on his own, other times he needs us to help him into a position like you see below and then we have to either sit behind him and let him lean on us or place a wall of hay bales behind him to prop him up. He hasn’t really moved at all since last night.

This morning when I went into the barn to look at him there wasn’t any movement. It scared me. I realized at that moment I knew what I wanted for the little guy – I wanted him to live. Before this, throughout this fight for his life I’ve wondered what the best thing for him would be. If his legs are ‘dead’ he has no chance. But yet…was that a twitch? He can move his back legs! Now just move a front one, please…  The ups and downs are draining on everyone emotionally and physically. But when I thought he was dead this morning I realized how much we all have invested in him – I want him to live.  Maybe as this symbol of hope that despite the stupidity and downright cruelty of human beings, it can possibly be overcome with the determination this little guy has shown.

Did you know there’s a new app for the iphone that if you hold it up on the street you’re standing it will give you info on your surrounding area – literally you’re watching the video of the street and it flashes information on restaurants, etc. And there’s a new product I heard about (I’m addicted to podcasts so bombard my brain with useless info every time I’m in the truck) in which your cell phone transmits info to your eyes via contact lenses – similar to a HUD in a plane. This would be good for me because I don’t remember anyone’s name, etc. and it could remind me – “this is your mom” and warn me to make a comment when staff changes something about them that I’m supposed to comment on. We had a staff member that apparently changed her hair from auburn to flaming red. She drove me nuts so I always considered myself lucky if I could refill my coffee in the break area and get away from there before she stepped out of her office to begin a mundane conversation about everything in her life. Apparently she stopped talking to me for a week because everyone else had commented on her wonderful new hair-on-fire look except me – I just thought it was a good week. Anyway, a device like that would’ve noted the drastic difference in hair color and given me a suitable compliment as well as topics to avoid. Perhaps in the future it will provide a radar-like heads-up so that I can know which hallways to take to get to the coffee without bumping in to people I don’t want to talk to.