It’s Friday night, 2:30 a.m. and I’m awake with leg cramps. Walking around to work the cramps out, getting ibuprofen and an ice pack. I’m a bit frustrated with myself. I know better. I work a desk job and do not stand or walk hours at a time like I did tonight. I know drinking Gatorade and increasing potassium (preferably in the form of Jays or Lays) before volunteering at the barn prevents my cramps but I forgot or rather made other things priority. But ya know what…volunteering at Open Barn tonight was endearing.
Redemption. Restoration. It wasn’t an instant change, but one that took place over a period of time. But a daughter notices. I started to see my mom smile a little more, go and do things with friends, and quite honestly, she was glowing a bit.
We are tired. Our joints are sore. Our minds are constantly running – thinking of the endless to do list and figuring out how we will keep going. But we do it. Everyday. We keep going.
Some people ask why we do it. We don’t get paid. There is no glamour or prestige associated with rescuing these animals. We receive unkind messages on social media. We are so very, very tired.
But when asked why we do what we do, we pick up our heads high, and with dirt on our face and hay in our hair, we say we do it for Warrior.