This is a personal "just for fun" newsletter and pics from me, for those of you who have asked about my recent vacation.

(Ya don't hafta read it)


I swam with a dolphin and I will never be the same.

What I did on my "Winter" Vacation December 14-23 2007

First of all, many thanks to Joanne Raus, (Joanne is the one named and trained in our official "Plan of Succession" in case anything were to ever happen to me. Joanne must have been praying for me extra hard on this trip. See below. Ha! ) Lynda De Hart, and Bonnie Ferguson, for keeping the home fires burning at Small Paws while I was away. Without the work of these fine ladies, I wouldn't have been able to go anywhere! Thank you all so much!

I don't know how to "vacation." I guess I only know how to rescue Bichons. It's what I do. It's what I love. I do it in my sleep. I do it when I SHOULD be sleeping. HA!

I haven't gone on a real vacation in ten years. Hmm. That's the same age as Small Paws will be turning this year.

My husband's company came to him and told him that he too, hadn't taken any time off. They told him he had personal days, and vacation days coming to him and that he WAS going to take them. And by the way. They were sending he and I on a cruise for Christmas. HELLO?? Oh my!!

Three days before we were to leave, we had the mother of all ice storms to hit Tulsa, Oklahoma. 650,000 people were without power for several days, Your's Truly AND HER DOGS included.


This was the view of our neighbor's yard across the street.


This was the view of our front yard. It looked like a scene from Gone with the Wind and by the way, did I mention we were leaving the country in three days?

Did I also mention that my Spunky Monkey was convinced that the mean old generator that was running in our driveway, (so HE could have heat and have his dinner warmed up), was surely coming inside to kill us all?

The generator would sort of come and go. Like a lawn mower that needed to go into the shop. You could hear it getting ready to go and you would try to hurry to do whatever it was you were doing.

So we had one terrified Bichon, trees falling by the minute that sounded like shotguns, and we were trying to pack for paradise before the lights went out again. We are STILL having power dips.

Thank God for Small Pawser Dave Hagadorn who knew how to run the mean, killer generator, and how to unhook it and hook the power back up, if, by some miracle it were to come back on in this century, without burning the house down. If it had been anyone else staying here, we would not have gone.
Thank you Dave!

The first few days away were, er, uncomfortable. I think part of it was knowing that one of the people who would be covering for me at Small Paws, back home, Bonnie Ferguson, didn't have power yet at her house, nor did she have water.

Bonnie and I are pretty close. Together we make a brain. I could feel her pain no matter how many oceans I had crossed. Her Bichon Fuzzy, was beginning to show signs of stress and there wasn't a hotel room to be had anywhere. When Dave finally told me that their power was back it was as if someone finally started playing steel drums and had brought me a drink with one of those pretty umbrellas in it.


AHA. I was now on vacation. Life was good. This was on the balcony of our stateroom right before a sunset. I was learning how to vacation. Maybe.

That's when our first adventure happened.

"I'm an old cowhand, from the Rio Grand. Not."

We got off of the Ship in Samana, Dominican Republic, which is poorer than any place I've seen and poorer than anyplace the people on the ship from South Africa have seen, so that says alot.

We hired a local guide, along with four others from the ship. Another couple and a daughter and her dad. We were supposed to go to the beach, and to a restaurant but the guide says to us, says he, "You wanna stop and see the waterfall?"

We all look at each other. We are mumbling, "You've seen one water fall, you've seen them all." Keep going. Dale's hungry."
Then the guide says, "No no! You see it from a horseback ride!"

Ok. Do I look like Dale Evans to you? Do these Born Sandals look like cowboy boots? KEEP GOING.

"It's just a 30 minute ride. VERY pretty. The horses go VERY slow. They have a guide that walks beside your horse right with you. All you do is sit there. You don't have to know how to ride a horse. No shoes are needed. Just sit there. $15.00 per person to see rain forest and waterfall. 30 minutes."

Before I could manage to sing my worst rendition of "I wanna be a Cowboy's Sweetheart, I wanna learn how to Rope and to Rideeee" the rest of the group had volunteered us for the 30 minute rain forest/horsey ride. Head em up. Move em out. Look out horse. Here I come.

When I saw the horses, I asked if they had any that were grown. I tried to tell them that I weighed 162 pounds before I got on that ship (by the way, I did not gain a pound, I stayed the exact same. Which in my book, on a cruise ship, is equivalent to losing 15 pounds but I digress.) and that I needed a grown horsey.

They didn't speak a lick of English. Our guide assured me that these were "mountain pony's" and very sturdy. They are able to carry big men across the mountains and carrying me was no problem.

I saw the horses whispering to each other about means of escape, and had they not been tied, I know they would have run for the hills.

My "mountain pony" was named Mojaves. I apologized to him before I even climbed on his back. I told him it was only for 30 minutes and that he was a very good horse to do this so people could see the pretty water FALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL WHATTTTTTTTTT OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD.

I was on my back it seemed as Mojaves was trollaping up a STEEP trail going straight up the side of a real live a mountain. DALEEEEEEEEEEEEEE??!! Oh my God. Oh my God. What have I gotten myself into.


My white horse, Mojave, my guide "Jesu", Dale's Horse and Dale's guide.
No, Dale didn't ask his guide's name or his horse's name. I think his high school Spanish must have suddenly failed him.
I immediately asked my horse,"Como se llama?" and both kids answered "Mojave." Either his name was "Mojave" or they were telling me there was a llama in the desert somewhere.

The "guide" who is pulling my horse, is a CHILD, MAYBE 13 years old named Jesu'. And she too doesn't speak a lick of English. There are no cell phones and no radios. This is a third world country and I am on a small horse going UP the side of a mountain. Dale is telling me to lean forward and hold on. NO KIDDING. (I held on so hard that my thighs were bruised for days. I hesitated to wear shorts for fear of what people might think. They'd never believe what really happened)

MY GOD. It has been raining here. (Hence the RAIN FOREST well duh) Mojave's hooves are sinking into the MUDDDDDDDDDDDDD a good six inches. OH MY GOD. I began to think about our will and did I have all of the dog's names in it.

"What goes up, must come down."

After that first upward trail, I realized that there were no bodies on the sides of the mountain. And yes, I looked. We made it. Mojaves wasn't even breathing hard. I was in a state of sheer panic but he was sure footed and strong. Then we had to come down the other side. I assumed to make a circle to return to our guide's van. Right?

Yes, we did have to come down the other side. STRAIGHT DOWN. Mojaves head was nose in nose with the horse in front of him's tail, let's just say they were all very close together.

I couldn't believe a child was pulling this horse DOWN this mountain, sinking in the mud in her boots, with me on this horse's back, while I was making the sign of the cross on my chest as this was probably the only thing she would be able to understand.

I spoke softly to my horse the whole way, knowing he didn't understand a word, but wanting him to know how sorry I was that he somehow had fallen into this lousy line of work. I was trying to think of a way to bring him back to the states, place him in a loving home with people who would let him sleep in the big bed and go for ice cream.


This was one of the trails that wasn;t quite so steep. Still, when you are on the back of a horse, and his hooves are sinking into the mud with each step, it feels more steep. Dale couldn't take pictures on the REALLY steep ones. He had to focus on holding on with both hands and with both feet!

After an hour and 45 minutes into our 30 minute ride, (a three hour tourrrrr) two of the child guides motioned to me to get off of my horse, after we had just crossed through a shallow stream. There seemed to be some sort of a saddle problem. Hmmm.


In this picture, I'm coming up in the back in the blue. The horse underneath me is Mohave, which probably means "Carries woman that never stops talking." After the stream and saddle problem, the rest of our group continued on, leaving Dale and I to take care of two non-English speaking children and two small horses. Neither of those spoke a lick of English either.

Oh noooooo. I'm not going anywhere. You don't understand. The only way I got up on this thing was the stand you had back there at the front. There is no stand out here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here.

Again they motioned for me to get off and to stand in my sandals in the mud. They were coming over to me and acted as if they were going to pull me off! DALE!! HELP!

Dale told me that he thinks there is something wrong with my saddle and they have to fix it. Of course there is. Is this ride insured? I didn't think so.

Dale tells me that he will come and help me off of the horse and will put me back up on him when they are done. Squish. The mud is deep.


Right after THIS stream, is where they decided to have me get off of the horse without the benefit of a bench, supposedly to repair a saddle problem. I think it was strictly for entertainment purposes. As you can see, I'm trying to comfort poor Mojave, asking him isn't he grateful that I've been ordering from the ship's "Cooking Light" menus. It didn't matter. He still didn't speak a lick of English. "Jesu" pronounced "Yaa'-sue" pulled Mojave along each and every muddy and steep step. They had these children pulling these horses as no horse in his right mind would go up these slippery slopes AND DOWN THEM of his own accord.

They fixed the saddle problem, and Dale had just gotten me back on my horse when the unthinkable happened. SPLAT and BOOM. We heard a horrendous noise. Dale looked over and said a Texas curse word. It's the one that means manure. You never ever want to be in the middle of a rain forest in a third world country and hear your husband say "Oh Sh*t" That was my horse."

Dale's horse had slipped and fallen over onto his side. Kaboom. Plumb over on his side He was laying there in the mud on his side. Now Dale wasn't on him. Thanks to me and my saddle problem.

There I am. An animal rescuer. Spazzing out. WAY out of my element. On top of a horse two sizes too small. All I could think of was, now that this poor horse had fallen, how in the world was my poor husband was going to make it back to the front, over those five mountains and valleys, carrying that poor horse?

How were we going to get him to the surgeon and did they even have a surgeon here?

Dale was much more practical and was more concerned with making sure his horse wasn't hurt. Dale didn't even ask what his horse's NAME was. I told him he deserved to be horseless as I petted Majave's white neck.

It seems that DH (Dale's horse for lack of a better name) had become tangled when the kid had tied his bridal to a tree. He tried to graze and it somehow got caught and down he went in the mud. Now the thing that was stunning is that the two kids who called themselves guides, showed not one bit of concern after DH was laying flat on his side. BLAHH. On his side I tell you. BAM. DOWN like a light.

DH got up and appeared to be no worse for wear. I told Dale we should call for the vet and wait before trusting his weight on him. Dale looked at me as if to say, "Do you really think there is a VET out here?"

Probably not. I should have stayed on the boat. Mother Mary full of grace. Pray for us sinners now, (and I'm not even Catholic.)

The Illusive Waterfall.

Of the six of us, only Dale had sneakers on. Only Dale made the journey down AND UP AGAIN ON FOOT to see the waterfall.


This was the trail down to the falls. If you had leather bottomed shoes on you would be out of luck and flat on your keester. You see, the RAIN makes MUD which is SLIPPERY.
(I, too, could have gone if they had just harnessed me to those hand poles, given me a push, and slid me on down .)


And this was the waterfall that caused me to update the will upon our return to Tulsa.
Seeing a picture of it did just as much for me as seeing it in person would have done.
If you've seen one waterfall..

After 2 hours and 45 minutes of straight ups and even straighter downs and sheer prayer and thigh grinding, we somehow made it back alive, although DH did slip twice, I learned later. Mojave never slipped once. He probably knew he had one potentially hysterical woman on his back and that each step better be a firm one.


This was a place when it finally flattened out to just a little slope.

The blood had drained from all of our faces. The younger gals said they felt ALIVE after facing near death! I tell you what I felt. PAIN. Get me back to the SPA on the ship and call a masseuse for these poor horses.

When I told the story at dinner that night, I told them that we had been through hell and back that day, and that I alone survived to tell about it. I and my cameraman.

Barbados

"The Green Monkeys"

The ship sold a shore excursion to visit a wildlife reserve in the afternoon, and if you went you might get to see the green monkeys. It says on the brochure that you are not guaranteed to see the monkeys and if you don't get to see one your ticket is good for two weeks. Hello? We're on a cruise ship?

I told Dale I wanted to get a guide/taxi and to go see the monkeys by ourselves in the morning. So we did.

We got to the reserve and paid to get in. Then the lady told us that the monkeys don't come out in the mornings. Only in the afternoons. In the mornings they are out in the forest sleeping. They only come in the afternoons. And they don't come up to you. They stay in the trees and bushes but you can see them IF you stay until the afternoon. We shall see.

As we walked the path, we noticed not many people were there either. They too had probably been told there were no green monkeys until the late afternoon WHEN ALL OF THE TOUR GROUPS COME TO STARE AT THEM.

I told Dale that we had to stop and concentrate and let the monkeys know that we were there early, especially to see them. He looked at me the same way he has many times in our 22 year marriage. He said, "DO you REALLY think they don't know you're here?"


Right about then the first one jumped out and just about landed on my shoulder. I just sat on the ground and smiled. The monkeys seemed to be having fun looking at the silly blonde woman who was loving looking at them, too. Dale started snapping pictures. We were surrounded by about 50 of the little things within 10 minutes.


The mamas let me get pretty close to their babies. I asked one of the babies what he had there and he opened his hand to show me a nut. Then he offered it to me! The same little guy came and sat next to me on a bench and then tried to push me off of it with his little hand while saying, "EEK! My bench!" (Remember, they won't come near you but you can watch them play in the trees.) What a great day!


Two of them wanted to get into my purse. I didn't see any harm in that until I realized my PASSPORT was in there and I didn't care to see THAT swinging from the trees! This is a Daddy and his baby. So precious.

Torador: The British Virgin Islands

As the song says, "And when the angels ask me to recall, the thrill of it all, I will tell them I remember SWIMMING WITH THE DOLPHIN LILO.
(I still can't talk about this without tearing up.)


I swam with a dolphin and I will never be the same.

My dolphin bumped me noticeably on the butt and shoulder after our swim, with her nose, while making an "EEK" sound, after she dropped me off back at the human "wait here stand." She weighed 400-500 pounds.
Her trainer got onto her for this, telling her "no" and blowing the whistle for her to come back to him.
Over my shoulder, while climbing back up on the stand I asked him if I did something wrong and he told me that she did something wrong, and he blew the "come here" whistle again.
I told him not to be getting onto my dolphin (laughter comes from class) and I asked him why she bumped me like that with her nose?
He said dolphins do this to humans, although rarely, as an affectionate "I have adopted you as family" nudge and that she is not trained to do this. It is not one of her "trained" behaviors and she is not supposed to do it.
Just then the lady next to me asked if she could have the dolphin do it to her, too.
The trainer then tells us "THAT'S why she isn't supposed to do it. Because we can't have her do it for everyone."
(Under my breath) Oops. Sorry. (Not really)
I later found out that "Lilo" (My dolphin) was the only female dolphin there who never had babies. She was 10 years old and would never be able to have babies. They live to be 40 in captivity. To 20 in the wild.
Maybe she sensed that she and I had this in common. Maybe she knew I had waited many years to be in the water that day, just to be able to be loving her.
You see, I was terrified of the water until I was 40, at which time I decided it was either gonna whip me or I was gonna whip it. I went to a health club here in Tulsa to learn to swim, in the back of my mind hoping I might have the courage and the good fortune to one day swim with the dolphins.
Whatever it was that day with Lilo, MY dolphin, in Torador, British Virgin Islands, it was magical, and I will never be the same.

You haven't lived until you've swum with a dolphin. Trust me on this one.

Vacations are a good thing. They cause you to take stock of what you've accomplished and where you want to go. They make you grateful for the people who kept things going while you were away, and to know that if something, God Forbid, were to happen to you, the plan you put in place would work, and Small Paws would continue on, hopefully for as long as there are Bichons, and the people who love them. Thanks for taking time from your busy lives to share a part of mine! From all the pretty little horses to the greenest of monkeys to the most beautiful dolphin girl you ever kissed. God knew just what I needed. And I alone survived to tell you about it. All My Love, Robin