Everyone has a story to tell and in blog land, most of us have stumbled upon each other mid-sentence, so-to-speak.

What is the story behind your blogname/url?

I think I win the award for most random and not-horse-related.  I remember when I paid that dude $5 (I think?) for my logo and I was like.. It's a horse blog, called "the Owls Approve."  .....crickets.....

This might be a novel.  Prepare yourself.

D and I got engaged in March of 2010.  In July, 2010, he had finished his Master's program and was doing a two-week preceptorship in Savannah, Georgia.  The only reason he knew Savannah existed was because we went on our first vacation as a couple to the beach here - the weekend of May 20, 2006 - a date I only remember because I was supposed to marry another man that day.  Between that first trip and finishing his education, we had visited the city a handful of times and determined that this was where we wanted to settle.

Whereas D had gone off to college, I had stayed home and attended a crappier, cheaper school.  So when D was offered a position with the company at which he had done his preceptorship, I literally left everything I knew behind to move with him.  There was never a question in my mind about the decision and, instinctively, I knew moving away from our hometown was the only means we had to flourish as a couple.

I gave my various jobs (there were three) two weeks' notice, shoved my crap into the U-haul D's company had rented, put the cats in carriers, the dogs in the back of my Subie, and moved - August 21st, 2010.  It was all very, very quick.  I didn't have time, initially, to be sad about leaving my family, my friends, my barn, my jobs (the one that I hated and the two that I loved), or the little one-bedroom apartment at which I had lived for two years.

D and I rented a two bedroom townhouse in a suburb of Savannah that was surrounded by marshland.  This might be surprising given my lack of religion, but we had not lived together prior.  Slumber party madness, sure.  His and her closets?  Never, ever.

I had already handed out my resume to a ton of veterinary clinics throughout Savannah, but the only one that had responded was the one that I didn't want to work at.  They weren't going to start me until September.  Archie wasn't going to be shipped down until the last weekend of August.

If I haven't described this clearly enough:  I moved away from my hometown to live with my fiance, went from working 80 hours a week to being temporarily unemployed, surrounded by boxes in a city I didn't know.  Oh, and I was planning a wedding.  For six weeks after we moved.  I was super stressed about money, the lack thereof, the wedding, I was lonely (hello, Bones on Netflix), oh, and this was also right after Archie had been diagnosed as anhydrotic and he wasn't responding to the medication - and he was still in Augusta.

Laying in bed next to my future husband in our new apartment, adjusting to his bed, his noises, not having my girls sleeping next to me, I tuned into the sounds outside of our bedroom window.

The first night, after a rain, there were frogs.

The second night, and every night afterwards for a solid week, there was an owl.

Some Native Americans believe that owls are the harbingers of death*.  I, however, found solace in the sound of this creature, who seemed to be the only real welcoming we had to this new city.  It entered my mind:  the owls approve.

Shortly after the wedding, I got my first owl tattoo.  Then the second, and the third.  I rejoice when I hear owls or see owls in flight as I feel it still means that I'm on the right path.  Moving to Savannah was one of the best decisions I ever made.  Archie started sweating almost immediately after stepping off the trailer; the wedding was a small, beautiful affair; I got a better job and then an even better job; we bought a house that we both love; and our marriage is amazing.




*The Choctaw tribe actually has a legend of the moon goddess, Hvashi, riding across the night sky on a giant owl.  Rather than decimating millions (like, giant owl, giant death?), she became the "first wife."