the lesley osborn blog

I had tropical fish for many years. It began with one beta fish and a suitable bowl. That glass bowl was more expensive than this fish. Like other hobbies, this grew, and before I knew it, I was hooked on fish. One fish led to another, and before long, there were five aquariums of different sizes and shapes with a variety of freshwater fish to care for. I chose the babies. Some were so small they were difficult to see. But that’s me. I spotted an angel fish in a tank with others in a major pet store and chose him. He was the size of a dime. Well, of course, he needed a tank, and he came home with a 45-gallon bow-front aquarium, including its matching wooden base with cabinets for supplies! For the fish enthusiasts reading, meet Noah, the angel fish with 45 gallons all to himself. Why? He wouldn’t let any others share his space. I tried without success. Lucky Noah; poor me. An extra tank to care for. Imagine a fish so small with all this room. And he enjoyed every gallon as he grew! As ...

I grew up with dogs in my family. My mom loved horses and rode an Arabian gelding during her years at Pennsylvania State College. His name was Keb. Her riding clothes still hang in her closet. These were her memories, and she chose to keep them. Sundays were special; my younger brother and I would go to an amusement park, where we could both ride ponies on a carousel under close supervision. After all, we were very young but old enough to sit up straight. The only thing that could go wrong would be a mechanical failure! Several years later, my parents took us for pony rides on Sundays. Now we were on real ponies! The kind that eat, drink, and possibly throw you off! No mechanical failures in this scenario! My love for riding I attribute to my Mom. My brother couldn’t have cared less. By the age of 7, I was riding at a local stable. I began on a lesson horse reserved for beginners (kids and adults), attached to a lunge line, being led around a ring by an adult. This was for safety...

I learned about Melisa from a cross-post on a senior Florida Greyhound site for a Galgo Español in need of a new home. She was adopted by a couple from Spain at the age of two. Her family was relocating to Germany. They decided that at the age of nine, and given the lengthy trip, it was in her best interest to find the perfect forever home locally. Here’s how her story unfolded… Mom and I were volunteers with this Greyhound group and inquired about her. She was living in Florida, but her owners had contacted a Galgo rescue group in Pennsylvania for help. I was familiar with this Pennsylvania rescue; however, they had distance requirements regarding how far their dogs could be relocated. This was completely understandable for the dogs’ welfare should any problems develop. The Florida rescue spoke with the Pennsylvania group, and things progressed quickly. Our information was given to Melisa’s family. Her dad called and spoke with me, explaining that he wanted her to go from their home t...

 It was headed straight for us.  Aunt Lesley and Grandma sat glued to the television day and night, watching the weather reports.  Aunt Lesley began her yearly hurricane preparations. She stocks up on ravioli every year, but this storm was bigger than ravioli.  Yes, every day, for five days (sometimes twice a day as her nerves dictated), she ran to the grocery store to stock up on food and other necessities. For some reason, her purchases included some forty-eight rolls of toilet tissue—just in case. She believes in being prepared.  With each trip to the store, the shelves emptied.  First to go, of course, was the bottled water. Now, we already had forty gallons of Zephyrhills water sitting in the garage. (After all, we had to drink also.) Since there was no water to be had, she stocked up on juice, every kind she could grab off the shelf before the next person.  Aunt Lesley even brought home a supply of Pepsi that could quench the thirst of one hundre...