Jammy and Thumbelina (Published August 2, 2021)

 My name is Thumbelina. I’m a 30-year-old miniature horse and I live on a farm near Petaluma. I used to live in a smaller town called Occidental. Many years ago, when I lived in Occidental, I had a dear friend I use to play with all the time named Jammy. Jammy was a potbelly pig and we use to have so much fun running and playing in the fields. As we were both small and the owner was gone most of the day at work, we spent many a happy day romping in the grass and weeds. We liked to play as we were both “close to the ground” as our owner would say. While my original owner abandoned me and the Humane Society found me the home in Occidental, Jammy came from a good home and her old owners came to visit Jammy all the time. I still recall their names after all this time, Jerry, and Susan. How could I forget their name? Jammy talked about them all the time: “Susan this and Jerry that.” To be honest that is the one thing that drove me crazy about Jammy; she could not stop talking about Susan and Jerry. She loved them so. Susan was such a gentle soul. I remember how much she doted over Jammy each time she visited. Jammy would roll over and Susan would rub her for what seems like forever. She would bring food or Jammy who had thinned out since moving to Occidental. And I’m not talking food scraps but what seemed like gourmet specially cooked meals. Jammy talked about what a great cook Susan was and how much Susan loved to cook. Whenever Jerry and Susan happened to visit on a Friday afternoon, Susan always baked a special hot bread called Challah that Jammy particularly liked. Sometimes Jammy would give me a small piece and I can tell you it was delicious. I don’t think our owner particularly appreciated Susan and Jerry bringing it as she was trying to thin Jammy down. She thought all that special cooking Susan had always done for Jammy had made Jammy fat. All I can say is that Jammy particularly loved that Friday afternoon Challah. One day I discovered Susan was a nurse. The way I found out was that Jammy had a terrible infection. The vet could do nothing, and it looked like Jammy might now make it. Our owner, who had a medical background herself could do nothing. She called Jerry and Susan to tell them the bad news. Susan rushed over and went to work on Jammy. I’m not sure what she did but in no time, she brought Jammy back to good health. I remember our owner saying that Susan was called “Nurse Susan” and was admired by men she cared for who were confined much the way we were confined, though they were apparently confined to a much smaller area than we were. One day Jammy dug a hole under the fence and disappeared. I so wish I could have made the escape with her, but I simply could not fit under the fence the way Jammy did. Besides, I did not have a home to go back to like Jammy did. I never saw Jammy, Susan, or Jerry again. It bet she’s back enjoying Susan’s belly massages and that special fresh baked Friday afternoon challah.

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