When I was a kid, I also wanted a horse. Back in high school I rode very badly, but loved to go out even in cold weather to take a ride on Zippy or Babe (usually Babe, who always seemed to be pregnant, but didn't seem to mind a chubby teenager on her back). Frank was shocked the first time I introduced him to the softest thing on the face of the planet, a horse's nose. Whoa! I think he thought the horse would bite him, but this particular horse (in Colonial Williamsburg) seemed used to being petted by city slickers.
Well, I can have lots of pens but I can't have lots of horses. Or even one. (Our backyard is the size of a postage stamp.) So instead, I support Cracker Box Palace.
( BTW, Cracker Box Palace is what George Harrison called his estate, Friar Park, in Henley On Thames. In the early 1900s, my great grandmother was a cook there (and made the world’s best rice pudding. I do not know this from personal experience; my Dad told me so). Ole’ George even wrote a song about his home.)
There’s a Cracker Box Palace down the road from us in Alton, NY. It’s a farm animal rescue organization that takes in abused (and homeless) horses, cows, goats, and assorted other farm animals. (They really aren’t equipped to take in discarded pets.)
They have a wonderful newsletter and that's sure to make you cry. I'll never understand how people can be cruel to animals--big or small. But there are also stories of rescue and adoption. Here's a picture of Blaze, who's currently looking for a new home. (Sniff...why did we buy a house with such a small back yard???)
My point? If you didn't overspend at Christmastime, maybe you could forgo a a couple of lattes and send a couple of bucks to your favorite no-kill shelter. For big or little animals. You'll feel good and the animals will feel even better.