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Friendly, a little too friendly

First, and foremost, I want you guys to know that I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t have a set theme, I more than likely won’t be blogging EVERY day, but I hope it entertains you anyway.

When Tony and I were first married and living in Arnoldsville, GA, just outside of Athens, we were figuring out life. Tony and I both had jobs at the vet school and I was in the process of applying to be a vet student myself. I was out in the ridiculously hot Georgia summer, cutting my grass with a push mower (all we could afford), which in the late summer time was more like pulverizing ash (also just trimming the onion grass and dirt). I was wearing jeans just to protect my legs from the jet propelled pebbles of red clay from being imbedded in my legs forever.

Tony was at work at the time. I was out by the mailbox (about 1/10th mile from the house) when a truck pulled up beside me. I tried to ignore it at first in the noise of the mower as I am a naturally reserved person in person in the hopes it would just keep on driving. It didn’t. I looked up and saw a man in a cowboy hat with another guy in the passenger seat staring at me. I let go of the lever and let the mower engine die. “Can I help you?” I said.

In pretty good English, but thick Hispanic accent, he said “I was wondering if you wanted more work.” Me: “I’m quite busy with my own yard, ha ha!” Then he said what every man says to a woman when he wants to instantly grab her attention: “I work at a horse farm down the road”. At the mention of horse farm, I lost all sense of direction. “Horse farm!?! How wonderful! What kind of horses, how many” (etc). He said “well, why don’t you come over and I’ll show you around”.

“No, I can’t, I have a lot of work to do here” He said “Maybe later then, dinner?” Me “no, I have to cook dinner for my husband” Him “husband!?! you’re married, huh?” “yeah.. ” Him “well, maybe if you don’t have plans tomorrow, you can come over for lunch and I’ll show you around then.” I don’t want my readers to instantly judge me as an easy steal, but you have to understand that there were horses to be seen. At a breeding farm. And he said there were babies – HORSE babies! There is also something you need to know about me and that’s that, at this point in my life, I hadn’t learned to say “no” and didn’t want to disappoint this guy who was trying so hard despite my multiple rejections. So, reluctantly, there on the side of an old country road, sweating like a pig with a healthy coating of dirt and smelling of gasoline and onion grass, I agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger.

Something else you’ll come to find about me. I’m honest. I hate to lie, I’d almost go as far as saying I can’t lie, but that would be a lie. I think lies just complicate life and being honest is so much easier. Of course, as soon as Tony got home that night, I spilled my guts. I told him everything that had transpired and how I was obligated to go on a lunch date with this man. Tony just laughed.

The next day, at lunch time, I drove to the farm. He was just finishing up trimming some bushes when I pulled in. He greeted me, then proceeded to show me around the farm. It was a very lovely farm where the owner hosted numerous weddings, and there were, in fact, a couple of horses (three). We went and got lunch at one of the finest establishments in Winterville at the time (gas station Subway) and then came back to the farm to eat and chat. He was a very nice guy and we talked a lot, but my guilt was catching up to me, knowing that he was really looking for a date. So, I did the only thing an honest girl who was already married could do – I told him my sister, who was living with us at the time was single.

She never let me live that one down. After a couple of hangouts and awkward encounters, including a cowboy in a sushi restaurant, we eventually stopped communicating. I think he was just lonely and wanted some friends to hangout with, he eventually went back to Mexico to be with his family, but the language barrier – strike that – the sarcasm barrier between two languages made it very difficult to communicate. I hope he’s doing well and taking care of his family, he was a really nice guy.

Seattle 2008
Sippin’ Guiness like a rebel 2010
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How I came to work with Dr. Pol

First and foremost, thank you, everyone for subscribing!! We are still trying to figure everything out, so please be patient with us. My husband, Tony, is in charge of running the website and has worked on getting ads added to hopefully help us make a little extra money, but we don’t know exactly what we’re doing, so if (God forbid) something crazy starts happening that is unacceptable or offensive or even annoying, please let us know and we will try to remedy it. My first goal is entertaining and keeping you happy! Also, some of the replies you might get on this site could be Tony. Love you all!!

So, since most of you know me from The Incredible Dr. Pol show, I figured I would give you some back story into how that came to be. I had been working at a mixed animal practice with 50% on call with a egotistical, power hungry boss. Okay, I’ll give you a tiny example – once I was parked at a dairy with the company truck and one of the workers ran into the truck with a tractor, making a smallish 4-5 inch ding in a rear fender. My boss lost his mind and went off on them, me, demanding they pay for it immediately. Mind you, we frequented this dairy 2-3 times a week and it, by itself paid my boss about $20,000 per month in veterinary expenses.

Anyway, I was sick of working there and we were in our second rental house and our landlord had sold the house from underneath us. We had six weeks to move out. I started applying to several different practices locally and across the country. I included in my resume that I was probably going to be having more children. I was honest and open because: 1. That’s who I am and 2. I didn’t want to pick up and move my family to another town or state only to be “let go” and have to move again. My friend, the tech at that clinic I worked pushed me to apply to Dr. Pol when she saw the ad. My first response was “Who would want to live in Michigan!?!?” Having been raised in Georgia and spent the last 2.5 years in South Carolina, Michigan seemed like a stark, desolate wasteland of icy tundra. But, to make her happy (because that’s also who I am) I applied.

My family all went to Colorado that year for Christmas and I hadn’t heard from any of the clinics I had applied for. I was sure I was going to have to go back home and just look for another place to live at my current job and stay there forever. I was standing out on the back porch of the cabin we rented, staring at the stars in the crystal clear sky over the Rocky Mountains and just prayed and prayed (and maybe a little bit of begging) to God to help me and show me the way. I promised Him I would accept whatever He presented to me.

Two days later, I still hadn’t heard anything from other jobs, or from God for that matter, when we were driving home from the Atlanta airport. We had stopped for gas somewhere along the Atlanta Highway for gas when my phone range and it was Dr. Pol. I had not watched the show at all and only knew of it through news articles. I was still star struck, knowing this famous vet wanted me to come interview. I hung up the phone and knew that God had shown me the way.

Another two days and I took a pregnancy test that came up positive. I was thrilled, but then reality hit me when I realized I would have to go interview and admit that I was already pregnant. I considered not telling them, but was, again afraid I would move across country and just have to move back when I got fired for “whatever fits here”. I started my journey to Michigan on a Friday night. Flight got cancelled. Went back Saturday morning, flew to a connecting flight. That flight got cancelled and I had to spend the night at a hotel. I was able to extend my trip into Monday, but had to argue with an airline employee who scolded me for not scheduling an interview flight better, at which I informed her that I had planned on leaving Friday night, and now, because of the lovely airline, would not be flying out until Sunday.

I finally got to Michigan late Sunday afternoon, oooo’ed and awww’ed at all the beautiful snow. Called a real estate agent and asked about a house I had already looked at and finally crashed onto the bed of the hotel. I lay for 2-3 seconds before I mustered up the energy to call Diane Pol and tell her I was here and ready for the interview. During the interview, I eventually informed Diane that I was already pregnant to make sure there was full disclosure.

The next day, I went and saw the house that we ended up buying (which is STILL for sale!! https://www.zillow.com/homes/2931-E-Rosebush-Rd-Rosebush,-MI,-48878_rb/112243628_zpid/) flew home, and found out I got the job a few days later! So, here I am, hopefully still following God’s path. Why did I leave? That will have to be for a later (possibly much later) blog, but I will have to say God works in mysterious ways.

View from our house in Rosebush 2014
New baby surviving Michigan winters 2014
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I’m Going to Let it Shine!



Hello, and thank you for coming to read my random thoughts! I have decided to start a blog page about myself, my life, and random observations about the world in an attempt to give hope, inspire, but mostly make you laugh. I enjoy making people laugh, some for attention (otherwise why would I have the nerve to start a blog), but mostly to bring some positive light to the world when all chaos seems to be going on in our everyday lives. I plan to bring some lighthearted humor to everyday annoying situations so that you, too, can laugh at my downfalls and tribulations.

For my first Blog, I think I want to tell you about my brown stethoscope.

When I was in vet school, I got a purple stethoscope – my favorite color! Unfortunately, my dog ate it. So, then, when it was time to buy a new one, I had reached the point in my schooling where my soul and will to live had been adequately crushed (also known as clinical rotations) to allow for “remolding” – or, eventually, being happy with minimal pay for hard, stressful, skilled labor. At that point in my career, I did not exist as an individual and only was out to please my mentors and clients. Knowing that I would be going into large animal medicine, and therefore, be around barns, farmyards, horses, cows, pigs, etc, I wanted to have the best chance I could to be respected. I was convinced, as a girl, I wouldn’t be respected on the farm with “good ole boys” if I had a purple or pink stethoscope, so I purchased a brown one with copper finish. It looked very professional to me, like an elite equine practitioner and I was ready to go out and try my best to fit in with my clients and make them happy and would never allow them to think that my being a girl was a weakness.

My first real job (after a joke of an internship) was with a boss that was one of those good ole boys on the farm and despite his large stature and thick barrier of testosterone he carried around with him at all times, he employed only small women in his clinic – perhaps it was the need to feel in control, but perhaps it was just that in the veterinary world, women were becoming the majority for options. While working there, and only 3 months into my employment at my first job – granted I was already 28 – I became pregnant with my first child. I was absolutely terrified. I just knew that I was going to get fired for this and even contacted my uncle who is a lawyer to ask his opinion on my chances of getting fired. He told me that, unfortunately, because the business was such a small practice, I could, in fact, be fired legally.

I finally got up the courage to tell him and he was visibly disturbed, but, to my astonishment, did not fire me on the spot or make life harder for me to get me to quit. He did, however, warn me that the farmers around there (rural South Carolina) would not like a pregnant lady working on their cattle – that I’d make them uncomfortable and not to be discouraged if I was asked not to come back. I just knew that this would be the end of my large animal career. I worked very hard in the coming months to hide my belly with large clothes and coveralls, but at some point, you just get to the point where you can’t hide that belly anymore. The farmers did notice. They were shocked, surprised, but not one of them told me not to come back or act like they were unwilling to allow me to work on their animals. They were, maybe, a little more careful with restraining their large animals (but, really, shouldn’t they, anyway).

I went on to have the baby, remain on call, while breastfeeding and have to cart my infant along with me on some farm calls. I would park with the truck running and go pull a calf while my baby screamed in the truck the entire time. I did the same when I went out and castrated some horses, with the baby sleeping in the vehicle. Not one farmer said one thing to me – except I would get the occasional comment on how impressed they were that “a little girl like you can do what you do”.

I eventually established myself as a strong person, and no longer had to hide that I was a woman, that I was a pregnant woman, a nursing woman, a mothering woman, or a womanly woman. I eventually got to the point where I would wear earrings or *gasp* make-up or a sparkly headband that was my daughter’s out to the farms and never got a lick of push back. I still have the brown stethoscope because, well, they’re expensive and this one has not disintegrated yet, and once I cleaned all the cow manure out of the ear pieces, my ears don’t itch so much anymore. But I really love when people ask me about why I have an ugly, brown stethoscope because I get to tell them about how I used to be scared to be me, but once I was me and figured out people were okay with that, I get to be me and love it!