Chris Gray has always loved animals and the first to enter her life was the family dog - a Smithfield Kelpie named Bobby. The friendship that developed left her with a yearning to be surrounded by animals who would become friends, just as Bobby had been. Over the years Chris has found life often gives just what you need when you most need it. The first animal to enter her adult life was a dog that she literally dragged out of rising floodwaters. And that was just the beginning of thirty five years (to date) of rescuing and adopting a long line of strays and waifs. These have included nine dogs, nine cats and seven horses. Of course not all her animal companions came from such dire backgrounds.
The concept for this book originated with her desire to honour the memory of the numerous animal friends whose company she's enjoyed over the years. Never having experienced the joys and trials of motherhood, her animal companions became her 'children'. Over the years she's chosen to stop, to watch and to think about the actions and reactions she's witnessed and has concluded animals are very intelligent. In her own words: "I've had fun learning their 'language' and translating it into human-speak.
Publisher for my late wife's books. Chris Gray was a wonderful wife and friend, and her love of animals can be seen in her books. I am proud to be able to present her stories to the world and hope that her efforts in writing these stories whilst battling strokes and Lupus will be an inspiration to all new authors and readers
This is the first story about Dorado and shows from the start just how egotistical some horses can be.
Yet Chris always remarked that Dorado was special and was, of all her horses, the smartest.
Reading these stories you can clearly picture what he would have been like to ride, and the joy that children must have found from seeing him "parading".
If Animals Could Speak
“I’m Here, Don’t You Know?”
Dorado took only one day to settle in and check out the extent of his domain: in other words, the position of the fences. Once he’d sussed out his boundaries, he decided it was time to let the world know he’d arrived.
Whenever another horse was ridden past our place, my gelding would act out his stallion role. No matter where he was in the back paddock, Dorado would gallop over to the dam and up along the back wall. Once he’d made his grand entrance, he’d stop and pose for the passersby. He always stood with one front leg raised, tail held high and neck beautifully arched as he tossed his head and shook his mane.
When he felt the world was watching him, he’d issue a challenge to the passing horse and rider: “This is my domain. Don’t you try to set foot in my paddock or I’ll give you ‘what for’. And by the way, don’t you think I’m the handsomest stallion you’ve ever seen? I think I am!” After that he’d just stand there posing and expecting to be admired—which invariably he was much to the stroking of his ego.