When I fall in love, I fall hard.
I’m loyal. I’m committed.
I worked for a Pepsi-Cola bottler for a year at the beginning of my professional life. I am forever loyal to Pepsi. (Given a choice.)
I worked for Macy’s for six years. Can’t deal with Nordstrom.
I almost exclusively drink Gallo wines. With the occasional exception of a homemade wine John has concocted out in the barn, or something from the Woof Woof Winemaking Club we belong to.
I am hard-core loyal to Labradors. They’re the best dog breed on the planet.
I consider myself an ambassador to small-scale chicken farming. And castrated male goat adoption. Llamas. Cats who bury their own poop.
And of course, there’s John. That was the Big One.
Like I said: when I fall in love, I fall hard. And it sticks.
My new love: elephants.
A few months ago, my dear friend and I were on one of our little adventures, and we found an elephant farm near Chiangmai in the North of Thailand. Each of us was assigned an elephant to care for all day long. As it turned out, they were really taking care of us. We hand-fed them, learned to examine their poop for signs of good (and bad) health. We showered them, learned to mount them, and then rode them through the jungle for a couple of hours. That sweet 18-months-pregnant elephant carried my huge body on her neck through the jungle. Smoothest ride ever. Narrow trails, steep, steep hills. We arrived at a river where we had lunch, bathed them again, polished their tusks and played together.
It was wonderful. Filthy. Hilarious. Mesmerizing. Unforgettable.
Find one. Get to know her.
It is impossible not to fall in love with an elephant.