The Third Refuge

The third refuge is an odd story. I won't tell you what led up to my being there, that story will be told when I write about how I knew I was supposed to rescue big cats.
I knew the refuge was around Colorado Springs, so I set out to go down there for the weekend to find it. I couldn't find it on the Internet, nor in the phone book, so I knew I'd have to do a little detective work.
I found it alright...very strange tale (to be told).
When I got there the husband and wife team seemed nice enough, if not a little stupid...they'd go inside the pens to clean without containing the tigers first. Idiots. I don't mean to be uncharitable, but, really.
The husband and a co-worker gave me the grand tour. When we'd walk up to a cage, if the cat was interested in me, I'd ask, "Is it okay for me to approach the cage?" That was when the owner knew I'd had experience and wasn't taking the "bonding" thing lightly. After the tour we got to work in the fields building new fence.
The two men burped and farted and swore like guys on a construction crew. I don't think I'd have minded once I got to know them, but to start off like that was a little crude. At one point the co-worker found a bottle of vodka in his trailer and carried it out saying, "I found the cure to all my problems." I was unimpressed.
Then he told me a story about himself. I'd heard rumors about it, but couldn't believe anyone who worked with big cats could possibly be that stupid and live...but, he confirmed it. The story goes like this:
He and the owner were in a cage cleaning up after a pair of tigers. One tiger grabbed the co-worker's knee, the other his head. The two tigers then started to play tug-of-war. The co-worker's calf muscles were stripped off like peeling off the meat from a chicken wing, and his scalp was de-gloved. The owner managed to get the tigers off by hitting them with a shovel. The co-worker showed me the scars from the hundreds of stitches he'd received.
They never changed their cleaning procedures...they still went into the cages without containing the animals. Idiots.
Later that day the husband sent me up to the compound to get something, and on the way I visited with a couple of tigers who were friendly (some were not). Mike Tyson used to box with his Golden Tabby Bengals in Texas, and gave one of them to this guy outside Colorado Springs. This tiger was not friendly, and it explained why Tyson bit off what's-his-name's ear.
In any case, when the wife came home she asked how I was doing. I told her everything was fine and that I'd stopped by a couple of pens to visit. She hit the roof and chewed me out. So, I suggested to her that she and her husband get together and lay out the rules so that one isn't telling me yes and the other, no. That way, we're all on the same page. She then asked, "Are you trying to separate me from my husband?"
I left that day and never went back. I also began to realize that I'd alienated myself from all the refuges in the area. From certain events I knew I was supposed to do this, but God (or the Universe) had created situations that I'd found absolutely intolerable. Did God want me to open up my own? How on earth was I going to do that?? Did He want me to move to another area so I could go on with rescue? Was I kidding myself?
So many questions...and the answers were astounding.

Until Next Time,
Peace.