Apparently it takes a long time for a back to heal. I thought a month would be plenty of time, I was wrong, again. When I performed a task, like doing dishes, or laundry, I’d be laid up afterward for two or three days with pain. As time passed, I always had my mind on Calypso. I knew how much she wanted human attention, but I couldn’t give it to her. I needed to take care of myself first, then I could dedicate my all to her.
When I was outside, within sight of Calypso, she’d come running to her gate and call out to me. If I could I would take a curry comb and brush her down from the outside of the fence so I wouldn’t get hurt. It wasn’t enough for her, and I knew it.
After a year, I considered selling her, but only for a moment. I had an experience, as a child, that left a lasting scar in me. I had a job when I was 12 yrs old, a newspaper route. I bought a pony for $20. He was untrained, that’s why he was so cheap. I kept him in a pasture nearby so I could work with him everyday. After a year, he had become a great pony, but my newspaper job was too much for me. I had been delivering newspapers seven days a week, 365 days a year, plus school and feeding and training my pony, I couldn’t do it all anymore. I was exhausted, so I quit the paper route. Without an income I had to sell my pony. I heard of a nice family with a little girl that wanted a pony. I felt confidant my pony would be good for her. I had trained him well. I met the family, and they led her around on him, and she liked him a lot. I sold him to them. I thought he was in good hands.
The way my elementary school is set up, the side of the building, with all the windows, looks out upon a huge hill. It has about a 45 degree angle of a climb to the top. It had been a year since I had sold my pony to that nice little girl. One afternoon I was sitting in math class when something caught my attention from the side of my eye. I turned to look out at what it was. I saw a very large boy riding a pony up that huge hill at a full gallop. The boy was so big he kept flipping his whip back and forth on the ponies rump to make him keep running up the hill, but it was too steep and he kept slowing down, and the boy would whip him again into a gallop. The boy was so big his feet nearly touched the ground. I recognized the pony. I’d recognize him anywhere, it was my pony I had sold to the little girl. There was nothing I could do but watch that boy beat the pony all the way to the top. That was so difficult for me to watch. I had sold my pony to good hands, but he did not stay in the good hands I had left him.
I couldn’t imagine selling Calypso and risk the same fate for her. Her willingness to learn, her joy of us humans, I just couldn’t risk letting her go. I wasn’t fulfilling her need for attention completely, but I was grooming her when my back allowed. I started badgering my oldest daughter to do something, anything with Calypso!