My horse van was a big part of my life for years. We had it instead of trailers during my teens and after moving to New Mexico, the van itself attracted attention because it was not a common vehicle for hauling horses "out West". I drove it all over the country - 10 forward gears, 2 reverses... an engine that heated up in the southwestern summers, so I drove it to shows and clinics at night time (Mr. deKunffy always laughed about the horse "box" that only ran at night). I was taking it and had contracted a rig with tractor/double trailers to get 860 bales of (at the time, rare out here) grass hay. I led the trucker up north and left him at a fork in the road to check ahead if I was lost or not (I was). I started turning around and drove right into an irrigated field! I stopped immediately - ran to the ditch bank and broke off dozens of dry reeds and shoved them under the front tires and the dually tires - eventually, I got enough traction to wiggle out of the mud and went to the right road.
At the hay farm, there were only 2 men to help load - so the truck driver and I set up with them. It took 4 people to load the big rig with an escalator type thing to run the bales up. We filled my van, too and I was EXHAUSTED! Then we started back on the 4 hour drive home (at night). A ways out on the Interstate, my accelerator pinned to the floor! I pushed in the clutch and pulled over, engine roaring, then shut it off. With flashlight, I tilted the cab... there had been a spring regulating the gas pedal that was now missing... I got a new roll of paper towels and shoved them under the accelerator pedal, started her up and we drove home :)
One time, I took a couple of students' horses and my mare to El Paso to a Maj. Gen. Johnathan Burton clinic and just as we pulled in at Fort bliss, the van started making a hideous scraping sound. After unloading and securing the horses, I looked under the box where the sound had come from... then looked under other people's trucks. My driveshaft was missing a part all of their trucks had - a thing that held the shaft and it turned within it ( a "pillow block" I came to know). I got a huge leather strap, covered the inside of it with Mollimentum hoof dressing, strapped it around the shaft and a beam above, then used some baling wire in couple of other places... I rode in the clinic, after, tested the van on a drive around the parking lot. Then loaded the horses and drove the 60+ miles home! I loved that van.

Awareness

My orphaned colt, Dharma Gita was more aware than most humans! I had him boarded one time at a stable where they let the water tanks turn to green sludge - so, of Course, I would dump, scrub and refill my colt's water!! (This was the reason sited for asking me to leave!) - One day, I dumped his water and was bent over scrubbing the tank when Gita kept nudging my bottom. I would "shoo" him awat but he kept coming back, each time being more forceful. Finally I stood up and said, "WHAT!". He walked to the water on the sand, looked at it, at me, at it, at me until I went over to see. There were tiny fish flopping on the sand!! I grabbed them all up and ran them to another horse's slimy water tank and plopped them in. Gita walked back over to his hay. It turns out, the owners had started putting the fish in the water troughs to eat mosquito larvae... while I was amazed that they did all sorts of things BESIDES clean the water tubs, I was much more amazed that my colt saw the little lives struggling on the ground and needed to let me know. And he wouldn't rest until they were all safely back in water.

Sadness wrapped her big, heavy arms around me yesterday. While driving my Mom to a doctor's appointment (leaving the men installing her septic tank at my house and nervous horses there on my mind), we came across a tiny black dog on the side of a main road dragging her hind legs, desperately trying to get off the blazing hot sand of the roadside. I immediately pulled to the shoulder just past her. My soul was screaming for her - I felt the anguish and confusion she felt; my first feelings were how she was thinking "My body is ruined". I was crying uncontrollably as I got between her and the traffic that whizzed by oblivious... uncaring. A man was working (telephone company) at a corner not 100 feet from this sweet little dog. After I coaxed her to the shade beside a block wall and my Mom found two bottles of water that I poured into our insulated snack bag - I ran to that phone worker and asked him, "Do you know what happened to this dog?" - the man said that she was like that when he arrived about an hour earlier and no one had stopped until me. WHAT! I wanted to scream at HIM. What the $%*# was wrong with him! HE should have helped her. HE should have called the humane society. But he didn't matter. Only this precious canine mattered - and my Mom who was now sitting in the running Camry with the air conditioner on.
I ran back to my Mom and the car and my cell phone. The little dog had had several long drinks of water and was now curled around the wet beg in the shade. I dialed 911. Sobbing, I told the story to the dispatch. She was so kind and said that animal control would be right there. My Mom wanted to take the dog to the Vet. But, if I got her into the car... what if she would (understandably, in fear) bite my Mom? Mom is on coumadin (a blood thinner of some potency) and having had serious heart trouble four months earlier... I couldn't take a chance.
We waited. I called my Mom's doctor and told them we would likely be late. They are kind people and seemed to understand at least that we were being delayed (I wondered - would they have stopped for this tiny creature?).
The animal control truck arrived. Two men got out and moved slowly with me to the little girl. I was explaining what I knew of her condition and their voices became soft and reassuring for her. One officer repeated " We'll get you to the doctor, honey... easy girl". They didn't have a towel. I gave them an extra shirt from my car. They wrapped it around her to support her broken body and gently placed her into an air conditioned compartment in their truck.
This was all I could do. I had to get my Mom to her doctor. Crying, I thanked them, praised them and had to drive away. The day was difficult. I had taken this photo of the little girl to show my Mom because she couldn't see her from the car (thank goodness, the doggy's condition would have devastated my Mother) and all I could do was try to hide my sobbing. I don't know what happened to the dog. We tried calling the Humane Society where she was taken when I finally got home, but it was too late to find out anything. Today we will call again. No matter what, at least that little dear knew someone loved and cared about her. At least she didn't die on the side of the road, dragging her hind end, in the oppressive heat without water or concern. Even if she had to be euthanized, people cared.

Emotions can send an "electrical charge" through the air that other beings connect to and react to. Years ago, my dog was barking violently in the stable yard outside of the dome house in the middle of the night. The porch light slightly illuminated him but not the weird form that was his focus in the shadows. I crept out with my flashlight as he jerked forward then back, hair all standing on end. My heart was pounding! The electric charge was all around me! Then my light hit the thing in the shadows. It was a bucket.
Excerpt from "The Wellbeing of Pets & Companions"