Yankee; the Million Dollar Horse

Horses are a wonderful animal. Tireless workers, bold spirits, and brave souls, these humble creatures carry an incomparable organic beauty which has left them both a joy of nature, and a vital ally to the human race, for many centuries. By all accounts, without their strength and discipline, the building of civilisation would have been nigh on impossible...

The story you are about to read, received little media recognition, and is unlikely to one day find itself planned as a movie or book adaptation. There is no 'high-concept' or 'commercial hook', it is merely a simple tale I discovered via a comment on my Facebook Page; which in my view encapsulates both the sheer joy when the community of humanity, and the love our species carry for the animal kingdom, converge.

Shortly before the Thanksgiving period of 2011, Yankee; the beloved riding horse of Arizona resident Kandace French, fell critically ill - after contracting the potentially fatal salmonella virus. Being a season where holidays are common, her vet and husband were both out of town, and it was left to Kandace and her two friends Cathy Peterson and Penny Nichols, to rush Yankee to the Chaparral Equine Hospital. The diagnosis was rough. The sickness had infected deep; leaving estimated costs of exploration, treatment, and quarantine bills running into the tens of thousands of dollars, if not more. Even then, expensive treatment was no guarantee to save Yankee's life.

Facing the heartbreak of knowing she couldn't afford his healthcare fees, in the next moment, Cathy and Penny pulled out their credit cards and - much to the surprise and delight of Kandace, assured her a means would be found to pay each and every bill in full; as well as fixing Yankee back to health, as best they possibly can. As the hospital began to treat the poorly fella, word of his illness spread through the community like wildfire; the true beauty of human nature, had only just begun to shine.

"Back to full health"

A lady named Sabrina Liska - who had discovered the story, contacted Susan Morgan. Susan Morgan then spread the word through local Equestrian Internet chat boards; showing support by suggesting fund raisers for Yankee. As email addresses and Facebook caught wind of the story's sails, the outpouring and support for a woman and her Horse - who the majority had never even seen - much less met, grew rapidly. As Susan regulated a Poker Ride, Barb Hanes organised her own fundraiser - with the help of Mary Sutherland and Cathy Peterson; which offered Pony cart rides, as well as training classes from cowboy legends K Rodgers and Bill Roberts. 

The help continued. Among others, Kathryn Fellows and Kristy Maffucci developed a Christmas ride fundraiser, lunch and raffle at a local restaurant, Sherrie and Lynn Bray helped through donated items, and Soleil Dolce of the Arizona Equine Rescue Organisation offered her time and experience, by evaluating Yankee for homeopathic treatment.

As the eventual eight day quarantine period began, the hospital were flooded with an outpouring of well-wishes and offers of help. As the veterinary team; led by Doctor Rene Andrea, and the ensuing local work with regular veterinarian Doctor Jimmy Merill, Yankee was slowly nursed back to full health; aided by the tireless work of friends and neighbours. Within ten months, Yankee had gone from a sick horse facing almost certain death, to completing his first 50 mile endurance race since the illness struck. In April 2014, he finds himself a fit, healthy, and happy fellow; training for the 100 mile Western States Trail Ride, this coming August. All due to the help and compassion of a collection of souls who gave their time, effort, and concern; asking for nothing in return...

Kandace never asked me to write this article, the idea was my own. In fact, she asked for little recognition, and has constantly praised everybody who helped her and Yankee recover; no matter how minor. While this story may remind us how horses are wonderful animals, it may also serve a lesson, that so too are us human beings. By all accounts, without our strength and discipline, the building of civilisation would have been nigh on impossible; as much as the saving of Yankee - the Million Dollar Horse, would have been too...

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Yoga Positions.

"Mind, body, and soul"

I’m standing in the centre of a studio gym I know all too well, arched into a position I believed impossible to imagine; let alone achieve. My bare feet lie flat on the floor as my sixty-degree knees space a meter apart; leaving me crouching like a crab, trying to rid his system of excess waste. All the while, as I try to remain focused on slow, deep breathing, my upper body arches to a deep right, as I attempt to connect my hands on either side between my legs. I am in the middle of a contortionists dream - also known as a yoga class, and all I feel is pain; intense, beautiful, pain…

As a hardened veteran to the world of fitness, you become accustomed to the mishmash of obscure and outstanding training routines, which surround you on a regular basis. A veritable cauldron of men stacking heavy weights at all hours, youngsters roided up to the eyeballs; seemingly unaware or concerned about the long-term implications of injecting unnatural substances in their arse, those who barely step on a treadmill, those who barely step off one, and everything in-between. Gyms the world over contain the good, the bad, and the downright bizarre. Regardless of how an individual trains however, the rules are simple; weights exist to tighten, strengthen or grow a muscle through contraction, and cardiovascular exercise exists to improve circulation, and shed the body of excess fat; as true now, as it was in the Stone Age.

While cardiovascular exercise and weight training are valuable disciplines in their own right - and work to improve fitness. Due to the manner in which they target a specific goal, they cannot rely as solely providing a full body workout; necessary to maintain regulation in all its forms, as much as progressively slow the inevitable ageing process. This is where yoga comes in; in my case, Hatha yoga - a form which works through physical and mental strength building. While it may appear a simple case of stretching in awkward angles for an hour or so, the reality is far from it. Yoga is hard work – very hard work. A strong level of focus is required in order to both achieve and maintain the positions in a single class. Yoga forces the mind and body to act as one for a set period of time; eventually leading you on a journey closer to your spiritual centre - leaving you cool, calm, and collected. Don’t believe me? Ask yourself – when was the last time you met a yoga teacher who wasn’t positive, full of life, and able to bend into some ridiculously funky positions?

"How it (kinda) looks"

Beyond all this, the many benefits of yoga include the improvement of brain and heart function, lowering of anxiety and blood pressure, an aid to sexual function and balance, ridding the body of aches and pains, and in general, leaving you feeling alert and alive. While other exercises manage to help attain all these aims, only yoga can lay claim to achieving all, in one single class? As hard as it is, the reward far outweighs the effort; and lets face it, who doesn't want to be a stress-free sex-machine, who can easily balance on one leg!

Yoga is arguably the biggest open secret in health and fitness. Without it, footballer Ryan Giggs would struggle to play at the highest level in his fourties, a 55-year-old Madonna would barely reach the stage she moves like a cat upon with such ease, and I wouldn’t be sitting here with legs aching like they have just walked 50 miles straight. For anyone reading this, I suggest finding your nearest Yoga class, and giving it a try. It will hurt like hell, ache even more so, but each session will leave you feeling ten years younger - mentally and physically, in only a short while.

It will also help in writing an article like this from first word to final edit, in barely over one hour…

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Platty; the Fearless Pup.

"Platty - smiling as always"

Human nature is often maligned by media; ignoring the countless stories of compassion, over each solitary case of neglect, and making the exception out to be the rule. It is a form of journalism I find frustrating, as it is both an unfair reflection of reality, and does little more than induce weariness upon one another; when our lives exist to love and connect, not fear and disband.

I write this paragraph, as recently a friend of mine brought to my attention an inspirational story, which proves human compassion is as alive and well as it's ever been. And how – while a few unfortunate accounts of neglected dogs do exist, the vast majority are loved unconditionally, by souls as pure as the animals they care for. To prove this point, I would like to introduce you to the story of Platty; the Fearless Pup…

In early January of 2014, a beautiful 10-year-old Golden Retriever was dumped outside the Tulsa Animal Welfare Shelter, in mid-western Oklahoma, in the United States. Who committed such a cruel, heartless act, was a question nobody could answer. But why they did, was most likely due to his debilitating health. Poor Platty was suffering from a large, cancerous growth on his nose (hence his name – in reference to a unique resemblance to the Platypus), and appeared close to passing over at any day. Literally being left to die alone and afraid, it was a fate no living being should ever have to endure.

As is often with the power of humanity, it wouldn’t take long for another to discover the sheer wonder of Platty. Alli Elmore - a volunteer at the shelter, fell in love with him in an instant, and decided if these were to be his last days, a happy home around loving people to care for, offer attentions, and feed him copious amounts of his favourite Cheez Whiz, was a much more appropriate way to spend these precious moments. Coupled with re-homing the poorly fella, Alli and family created the Platty Memorial Fund; in order to raise money for animal rescues, or those with special needs. As this story of his difficult journey grew, the initial $5,000 target set, had reached well over $11.000; and continues to grow each day. 

"With singer, Carrie Underwood"

Yet still they wanted to help extend his life as much as possible. On taking Platty for a biopsy, his initial diagnosis was grim; the growth was deemed cancerous, and had metastasised into his lungs. As hard as it was to accept, time for Platty seemed very short. However, seeking a further, in-depth opinion, an oncologist determined his illness was in fact a Maxillary Fibrosarcoma; a form of cancer which - while aggressive, was at the very least, localised. More importantly - besides discovering a separate, benign tumour in his spleen - which was eventually removed, the disease had not spread to his lungs, as initially believed; leaving rays of sunlight to shine through an array of dark clouds. While never fully clear of cancer, Platty was also no longer an abandoned dog on the streets, but a well-loved family member - and this is where he finds himself, at the present time.

Unfortunately, the size and aggressive nature of the cancer, leaves full removal as an impossible option. However, this week, Platty begins low-dose radiation treatments, in hope it will shrink the tumour, and allow him to share as much time as possible in this world, with those who love him dearly - and to keep smiles on every last face of the ever expanding well-wishers, of his 20,000 strong Facebook page.  

Human nature is often maligned by media; but in reality, is a far warmer proposition. The exception is neglect, the rule is love. While the story of Platty began with the irresponsibility of one human being, it has continued and grown through the love and compassion of every last person, touched by his brave, incredible journey; this writer included. What could have resulted in another case of an innocent creature dying alone upon a deserted land, has become a source of inspiration, a story of hope, and form of proof that goodness is alive and well in the human race, as much as it forever remains in the animal kingdom. Please send Platty a message of support; every source of positive energy keeps him going another day longer, and  keeps the sun shining, another day brighter… 

To contribute to the Platty Memorial Fund, please CLICK HERE 

To visit Platty's Facebook Page, please CLICK HERE

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The Amazing Story of Ava Gardner; the Cat.

"Ava - Reading the story of Bocker The Labradoodle"

Cats are a polarised species. One side view them as a selfish, hollow, and narcissistic animal; who live to serve the self - at the cost of anyone who crosses their claws. Conversely, there are those who feel the opposite, knowing them as a wonderful creature who - besides enriching the lives of millions on a daily basis, also carry an indescribable source of potent magic; the kind which flows beyond the comprehension, of basic human logic. 

Personally, I love cats. And for those who remain anything less than lukewarm to our graceful, albeit lazy friends, I believe it is my duty as a beneficiary in the beauty of tuxedos, ceilings, and basements worldwide, to prove the latter, to the former. And in doing so, the story of Ava Gardner the cat is without doubt, as good an example as I can find…

It all began on a chilly 2011 morning in Martinez, California, where a small tuxedo cat was discovered wandering around a local park opposite the city’s marina; a common occurrence in an area known for its feral colonies. This little cat however, seemed a little different from the general - and understandably distant crowd. She was friendly, confident, and had no trouble in befriending a homeless couple; whom she chose to care for and feed her during the next fortnight – sleeping safe and sound like a babe in arms, on an old man's pillow.

While the homeless couple adored this mysterious moggy, they sensed she deserved a more affluent lifestyle than they could offer. Surrendering her to a local rescue group, where she was determined to be a healthy, spayed 8-year-old; who enjoyed getting what she wanted, being assertive, purring with an alluring loudness, and avoiding other cats of the shelter, she was christened, Quinn. The next step for Quinn was the stressful business of local adoption events; in order to find that deserved Mecca of all cats and dogs – a forever home. And it is here she was to meet a lady by the name of Susie Newton; who was selected by Quinn as her true human - though it would take a while for Susie to fully realise this.

"Beautiful Avas"

Susie was a rescue and re-homing volunteer, and had heard of the mighty Quinn through word of mouth. Upon meeting her – and living with the knowledge her own home already possessed one cat too many, in lieu her landlords wishes, she merely noted Quinn as small, cute, and - perhaps due to her surly personality, impossible to find a home. Months of adoption events, and months of Quinn appearing bored with her surroundings passed, and still the shelter was her purgatory. Much like how great books pass through time unnoticed, was the same anonymous fate for Quinn, going to meet her?

As compassionate cat lovers, time was spent by the group, considering reasons why; concluding she merely needed a more ‘sassy’ name, then the slightly dated Quinn. On searching for a suitable handle for this tough yet gorgeous feline - who could hold her own even with the best of them, the answer hit Susie hard, and made perfect sense as she shouted it out loud. Quinn was now... Ava Gardner; it fitted like a Martini from Martinez, in the hand of Frank Sinatra. Yet still nobody took her in. Almost a year had passed, and Ava had grown on no one else but Susie; to the point it was only the worry of an upset landlord, which held her back from taking Ava home. Deciding Ava had had enough of shelter life - and considering how it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, Susie finally made her decision, and the adoption papers were signed on Boxing Day, 2011. Susie never gave up on Ava, and Ava never gave up on Susie.

As loving guardians of their animal loved ones do, Susie created a Facebook page; designed as both a portrait of Ava’s glamorous yet unique exploits, and a means to promote issues of responsible domestic pet ownership, neutering, and general help of the natural living world. This is where Ava began to truly shine. Knowing the sheer power of the Internet coupled with numbers, her page grew rapidly from a small collection of friends and well-wishers, to a current total of over 336,000 and growing - which from personal experience, is an extremely rare and difficult number to reach. The little feral cat hanging around in a park adjacent to a marina, is now loved at home, cherished globally, and helping to promote good causes across the world; her journey could have taken one small drastic step the other way, but it didn't - it was never meant to.

Where Ava initially sprung from is a mystery; yet also a magical one. Ava was cold to the world, because she was waiting for Susie - waiting for her page, and waiting to spread a message of compassion and love, across the internet. A selfish, hollow, and narcissistic animal? Not a chance. A potent source of indescribable magic? Most definitely! Visit and like Ava’s page, support her causes, and send the Newtons a welcome message. In the next article, I will explain every one of “Ava’s 8 Rules” – each making life healthier and happier, for anyone involved…

As far as the landlady is concerned? She didn't mind Ava - and in return, Ava didn’t mind…

To visit Ava Gardner; the Cat Official Facebook Page: CLICK HERE

To visit Ava Gardner; the Cat Official Website: CLICK HERE

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Dear Insecure Megalomanics...

"I failed as an artist, therefore I hate Jews"

Dear insecure megalomaniacs of the world. Those in positions of over-elaborate power, carrying the delusional God complex, and living day by day through the selfish haven of their self-gratifying, child-like egos; constantly whispering silently how they are the one true manifestation of Jesus Christ, Buddha, Vishnu, Mohammed, and Mahatma Gandhi, all rolled into one…

I write this letter as a member of the human race; the species you convince yourself is under your dogmatic ownership – even though you are little more than one single member of it's seven billion strong collective. You see, I have existed on this planet for thirty three years, and one of its most consistent factors - as much as it has been since two primal Homo-Sapiens fought and died over proving who sleeps in the better looking mud hut, is how you over-exposed living bond-villain wannabes continue to destroy every ounce of a community, which the majority of humanity tries so desperately hard to build; in a fair, reasonable manner.

I know it all began with the helpless feeling of infant bullying; and grew deeper on the inside, as you grew taller on the outside. Once you reached an adulthood loaded in insecurity, and seeking solace in authority, you slowly slid yourselves into a position of power using backstabbing, dirty snake-like techniques; eventually finding yourself ‘ruling’ a land which you don’t really own anyway. Eventually it becomes the norm, and manipulating life upon these lands using every positive emotion; in order to hide a desperately hateful, negative attitude to the human race, always gets you an inch closer, to not feeling like your penis is the micro-size it actually is. You continue promoting freedom just to enslave, and make zero effort to protect and preserve future generations; all the while contributing nothing to the world but separation, born from a need to self-service a frightened inner-child.

You took inspiration from all the historical goons you worshipped on your walls as a child; Adolf Hitler, Pol Pot, and Saddam Hussein to name a few. These poor examples of men clasped elements of a beautiful world and turned it into destructive forms of chaos. And just as it was for them, this happens because you are too weak to choose forgiveness over anger; settling for the desire to gain some kind of empty revenge on a world, which you blame for a form of personal suffering, caused by a small collective of playground, or domestic bullies. Of course, like all true villains, you generally believe your actions are in some manner ‘helping’ the common man. How killing six million Jews, slaughtering 900,000 Asians, or raping the shit out of the Middle-East helps the world in any form, I shall never know. 

"Planet Earth: we don't own it"

I know it is not entirely your doing. I understand how the vast majority of the human race have been suffocated into submission by a propaganda machine; convinced they lack any form of right to a fundamentally free viewpoint, as much as I understand how societies as collectives are likely to choose a convenient lie, over an uncomfortable truth. But that doesn’t make your actions just. Unlike the masses, you are aware of the power you have to make the world a better place, but forever choose the easy option. While the artists, philosophers, humanitarians, and keepers of the true heart of humanity find the strength to try and connect an often frail species, all you do is exploit them. You are weak, every last on you; and the only aspect worse than wasting your lives on winning meaningless arguments, is wasting the incredible power you have to aid the world, on fighting these pointless battles of ego-validation.

So if you lack the courage to choose peace, then by all means, go to war; or in other words, send innocent men into battle, in order to die for a cause which isn't even their own - under the illusion of “national duty”. Watch on as your own fear, paranoia, xenophobia, and hate continue to be served on a plate to a global stomach already bloated with the bile of irrespective, hateful beings. Do this as you hold the antidote in one hand, while you crush it with the other. You are born, you live, and eventually, you shall die. And when your soul passes into the next life, all the power you attained and global points you proved – at the expense of entire generations, will be rendered meaningless. I only wonder if people of your position and disposition glance back at the end of their time on Earth, and feel genuine sadness over the sheer volume of innocent lives you ruined; or are simply too deluded to even know nor care, that you actually did.

It takes courage, strength, discipline, heart, and communication in order to build communities, and yet it only takes one gutless coward to light the match which burns it. Insecure megalomaniacs of the world; and those who endorse them to serve their own destructive purposes, grow up, get a clue, and go home; we are all so very tired of you now. Our world is far too valuable for small-minded psychopaths to ruin it. Of course, I am fully aware none of you warmongers in power will listen to a single word of this, so perhaps my letter should have simply been two short words...

Fuck off.

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