Tales of Tails
The Tales
Growing up, one of my favorite authors was James Herriot. I loved his "All Creatures Great and Small"
series of books. I read everything he wrote and I still have all of my books.
His stories about people and animals he met in his veterinary practice could be funny or sad but they
were all true.
After more than 30 years in the pet services business and a life long passion for animals I have some
stories of my own.
"Tales of Tails" will be a collection of my stories. I hope you enjoy reading them.
As always, your suggestions, recommendations and testimonials are always welcome.
All rights reserved.
All of the "Tales" are Copyright (c) 2008 by Tina Christensen
The Tale of the Garfield Slippers
About 4:00 on December 21, 1994 Jack came back to the kennel to pick up Charley, his white
miniature poodle. I had just finished giving Charley his Christmas haircut. Charley looked cute
with his new haircut and his red and green bows.
Jack handed me a neatly wrapped Christmas gift. He said, "This is from Charley."
I said, "Thanks Charley, it looks like you have been busy shopping." We laughed and visited
for a few minutes and then Jack was on his way.
Every Christmas since Jack had become one of my grooming clients he brought me a
Christmas gift. I could always tell that he had put "thought" into the gift and that made it even
more special.
I put the gift under the Christmas tree and on Christmas I unwrapped a pair of orange Garfield
slippers. My family all chuckled as I wore them around the house on Christmas. Of course, I
had to add some "meow" sound effects. After Christmas the Garfield slippers were put in my
closet.
A few days later, early in the morning of January 2, 1995, I was listening to the radio while I was
cleaning the cat house. I heard, or thought I had heard some disturbing news. I told myself
that it couldn't be true. I finished taking care of the cats and went outside and looked up at the
sky just as it was starting to get light and said out loud to myself, "please don't let that be true."
I finished my morning chores and went home. Turning on the TV as soon as I walked in the
door, I hoped what I thought I had heard was a mistake. It was not. I had heard correctly.
Jack had been murdered. It was hard to believe. The details were horrifying. Jack and
Charley were buried together. My heart was broken in a million pieces.
I went to my closet and held the Garfield slippers. I had not even had a chance to thank him
yet. These silly slippers just became more important.
The Garfield slippers sat in my closet and sat in my closet. Every time I cleaned I would think
about passing them on but I could never do it and they were returned to my closet.
In 2003 by brother and his wife adopted a baby girl from China. She quickly became a joy to
the whole family. A couple of years passed, she grew and somebody gave her some purple
Barney slippers. It was funny to watch her walking around wearing them. I started talking to
Barney and she would answer for him.
A few weeks later, in the middle of the night, I suddenly woke up and the Garfield slippers were
on my mind. I had to get up and get them out of the closet. I knew now why I had saved them
all of this time. Later that day I introduced Garfield to Barney. They became best friends.
Garfield and Barney talked, danced and just had a good time. Their friendship continued for a
long time. Then Garfield got some new friends, an orange character from Sesame Street,
named Zoey. Garfield always had a happy time playing with the other little slippers.
Now in 2008, Garfield has some new friends, My Little Pony slippers. The pony "neighs" and
Garfield "meows" and the fun continues.
When Jack gave me these slippers I think he knew
that they would make me smile. But they have
turned out to be so much more. They have become
a special connection between my niece and me.
I think she will always remember our silly games
wearing our slippers, games that I will continue
as long as I can.
The Garfield slippers are much more than the
cloth they are made from. They were given to
me in the spirit of fun and now I try to honor that
gift by having fun every time I wear them.
Thank you Jack and Charley.

The Tale of Wolf
Wolf was a horse I never met but I will remember him for the rest of my life.
In the sport of Rodeo there are many equine athletes. All are talented and well trained for the job they do. There
are the headers and heelers who must work as a team, the tie-down horses who must work as a partner, the
barrel horses who must be agile and fast and the least noticed, but maybe the most important horses in the
rodeo, the pick-up horses.
I was sitting dead center on the North side of the Holt Arena on Saturday night March 22nd watching the DNCRF
Rodeo Finals. It was the day before Easter. The semi-final round of the rodeo was exciting. I watched all of the
action thru my binoculars. I wanted a close up view. The cowboys were fun to watch but I was really there to
watch the horses work. The horses used at this level of Rodeo are just plain special.
It was in the middle of the semi-final round for the saddle broncs. Out of the shoots came a horse named Big
Ugly. He gave the cowboy a good ride. When the horn sounded, the cowboy got off of the bucking horse safely
and the crowd cheered. The pick-up horses came around the arena to herd Big Ugly back to the shoots. Even
though he no longer had a rider, Big Ugly was still bucking.
It was hard to tell exactly what happened next. Lets just say, there was a "horse wreck." Big Ugly collided with
one of the pick-up horses. The pick-up horse fell on the ground and it looked like Big Ugly stepped on him. The
pick-up horse was down, lying in the dirt, in the middle of the minidome. The crowd immediately grew quiet. I
could hear whispers of concern around me. I watched through my Bushnells and saw the riderless pick-up horse
struggle to get to his feet. When he finally stood my heart sank. I knew at that moment his fate was sealed. The
beautiful gelding that had just minutes before galloped around the arena doing his job to perfection now stood
facing me on only three legs.
I watched closely as five cowboys and the pick-up horse's rider were immediately by his side. One man stood at
the gelding's head and cupped his hands over the horse's eyes as the rider quickly removed the saddle. Then I
saw a familiar face, Dr. Dredge my veterinarian. I knew that the pick-up horse was in good hands.
With the saddle removed all of the men moved closer to the horse and gently stroked him as the Dr. talked to the
rider. The horse ambulance then drove into the arena and with precision was backed up right in front of the
horse. He was loaded and driven outside.
The pick-up rider mounted another horse and the show went on. But my mind was in the parking lot of the Holt
Arena. I knew Dr. Dredge would examine the horse away from the crowd and do whatever he could. But from
where I sat, it looked like a bad break. The rest of the night my mind was with the pick-up horse.
The final round of the rodeo was exciting. A local boy won the tie-down competition and the crowd gave him a
standing O. But I knew the real hero that night was a quarter horse gelding.
It was a beautiful clear cold night as I drove home. When I got out of my truck I could hear soft nickers coming
from the barn. My mare was waiting for me. I went to tell her goodnight. I told her the story of the pick-up horse
and how a good horse like that deserves respect.
With my arms around my mare's neck, I looked up into the dark sky. It was a beautiful night. There was a whole
moon and many stars and I knew that tonight there were new hoof beats in heaven.