I guess it's all in a day's work. I feed my chickens and ducks, collect their eggs, then move along to the next chore in and around our 1830's farmhouse. But I often wonder; are these really "chores" and "work?"

In my case, no. To me, they are healing. When I feed my chickens and ducks, I feed my own soul. They are ridiculously happy to greet me as I enter their coops, and eagerly devour the treats I give them daily. The eggs are plentiful, but I could never feel okay selling them; I give them to sweet neighbors and friends as a reminder that we ALL need to pay it forward.

I will never quite know what it is about our poultry that brings me to full-center. In part it might be that they know nothing of pollution, politics or poverty. They simply exist, and with plentiful food and water they are content.

Wouldn't we all love that?

Insofar as contentment, it isn't always that way at this little dog and (pony less) pony show I live! Let me tell you a little story about Hamilton...

Several years back, one of our kids came home from college with a 6 week-old mini pig. I never knew how clean and intelligent mini pigs are! Our Hamilton smelled like the coconut oil I used to hydrate his skin. This little 4 pound fella owned our hearts from day one! He bonded with me, and thought I was his mamma, following me everywhere! In no time we litter trained him, and he was a happy, adored member of our household.

Hamilton would nap beneath a blanket on my lap and loved life in the Andrews home. As he got bigger (20 pounds) he wanted to go outside and play. Soon he not only delighted in eating grass but perfected the art of digging up my newly planted bulbs and our irrigation. Unfortunately Hamilton never got along with our two miniature schnauzers. He adored my husband but would whine and become anxious anytime workmen entered our household. He began to nip at us when he was bored, and always seemed so unhappy.

My motherly instincts began to paw (hoof?!) at my heart. I knew, after two years, that he was simply needing more than we could give him. I called our vet and found out that in all probability he needed more than our 2 acres, chickens and ducks. He needed company.

That same afternoon I received a call from our vet's assistant; she knew Hamilton from his vet visits and said she would love to take him to keep their pig, Helen company. Poor Helen was lonely, too...

Serendipity swiftly came in the form of real happiness and companionship for our Hamilton, amidst my own feelings of sadness and failure in not finding a way to make him happy despite giving my all. My all was no longer good enough. This was a situation I couldn't fix.

Two days later Hamilton left to live with Helen. I was too numb to cry. I knew I would miss him- but soon realized I would not miss his whining, biting, and bullying of our dogs. Yes, I missed the sweet moments when he would climb onto my lap and sweetly snuggle while I rubbed his belly. I also missed the hilarious moments like when he opened the bar fridge and got into (aka "broke and drank much of") a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream.

Mostly though, I missed the dreams I had for him to remain a part of our family for as long as he lived. I NEVER give up on anything! (Good thing no one has ever dared me to build a spacecraft; I am anything but technologically or scientifically savvy!) Sometimes we face even tougher decisions...

While I watched my brother and sister-in-law care for their non-communicative handicapped daughter who requires full-time care, I was struck by how beautiful it was that they devoted their lives to her while she never could really show any affection towards them. Despite herlack of communication, they knew that they made her happy! Her eyes would light up when they touched her face, kissed her sang to her. Such unconditional love, loyalty and tenacity in their story.

Then it dawned on me. There was a huge difference between these two scenarios! My brother and sister-in-law knew that their caring for their handicapped daughter was best for her. Little Hamilton needed to be truly happy; our keeping him with us was the cause and not the remedy for his unhappiness. Yet another example of the importance in making the distinction between our need and others' needs; I was always told that parents are to be respected; this, combined with my yearning for their love and acceptance led me to stay in a relationship with them and allow them to abuse me... I felt my it was my duty to stay in a relationship (albeit abusive) for TOO MANY YEARS, however it was not in my best interest.

Here we have a few scenarios with an undeniably identical moral. When it comes to a situation needing a solution, we need to make decisions based on the well-being of those who stand to lose the most---or everyone loses. I was broken and crushed by my parents, yet still ignored my instincts to leave. We all lost. I lost my personhood and my childhood and much of my early adulthood, while they lost out on all the years of bonding with my sweet 5 children---not of my own doing.

So where is the silver lining and happy ending here?

Had I not been so severely emotionally abused, I'd not be who I am now. I would not have an insatiable need and desire to give others the support and understanding from that I sorely lacked.

I want and need others to know, both through my book, this blog and Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/iamdanaandrews/) that you can heal through helping others heal. On Facebook we are over 1,300 members strong, all because "caring is sharing." Each time my Facebook page is "liked" and shared, the caring reaches more and more souls who need not cry alone ever again.

And so, this is my story, but not mine alone. My story DID have a happy ending. We are NOT the abuse we endured! Abuse must NOT be the end of any story.

You and I are authors who have the license to write the ending to our own story. Make it happy. We deserve at least that!