Stick Horse Cowgirls

I’ve written before about how I believe our animals know more about us and have more cognitive ability than we like to think. My remaining dog is a three-year-old Belgian Malinois, “Chili.”  My other pet is “Sasha,” my cat who predates Chili in this household by a couple of years. Sasha is one skittish cat.  She was born here and has never been mistreated at day in her life, but my mother and I are the only humans she wants anything to do with—making occasional exceptions for Son. Sasha has lived her entire life on my back porch and in our fenced back yard.  She has her own little kingdom back there, shared with birds, who take their lives into their own wings by being there, and a raccoon who peaceably comes to her dish to share her cat food.  She makes occasional forays outside the back yard fence, but only few.  It is to this that we attribute her long life. I have never been able to get Chili to quit thinking of Sasha as prey.  I have come to t...

I was walking down my drive way yesterday from MIL’s home to my own.  It is a good walk.  We are within “sight” distance, but still it takes me a fair few minutes to make the trek.  Let me put it this way:  she’s almost to one end of my 11 acres; I’m almost to the other end. MIL had fed me with one of my favorite comfort  meals: meatloaf and English peas.  She knows I love the little Le Sueur peas.    Ummmmmmm .  (No, I did not snap this picture, but it sure looks like her meatloaf!) As I walked, I spied my neighbor, Midlife Countrygirl , out doing her usual gardening.  I’ve written about Mary before, and all her industry.  My hat is off to this woman.  She cans, she gardens, she mows, she keeps up her pool, her house is spotless…SuperWoman if ever there was one.  One of the things I love about talking to Mary is that she brings me up to speed on what’s happening in the area.  “ You know we’ve got a bear out he...

My niece has two dogs, Ruby and Razzle.  They are both rescued dogs, having been adopted several months apart from the humane society as puppies.  Niece and her husband are a young couple with no children, so R and R are like their kids, cared for diligently and melded into their family.  When niece and husband are home, R and R are in the house with them, much like Chili is with me. Niece reports a puzzlement about her dogs: when she and husband are watching television and a doorbell rings on the screen, both dogs instantly jump up and rush to the front door, barking raucously and clearly expecting some stranger to appear.  Now, I know that this is a common occurrence.  My Chili, too, will sometimes respond to the doorbell rings on television.  But here’s the kicker about Ruby and Razzle:  They were adopted as small puppies from different litters, some months apart.  They have lived their whole lives, save a few first weeks, with niece—who...

Well, V and I have certainly been derelict in our blogging duties.  The Christmas season was all-consuming.  I was blessed with a houseful of nephews plus a niece.  The house seems quiet after that many people, but at least one has promised to come in the summer to help me stain porches. We have lots of snow for our area.  Here is what my place looks like: Chili is loving the snow.  My problem is that he’s decided he wants to go out in the middle of the night (unusual) and play in the snow for an hour or two, whining at the door when he’s ready to snuggle back down.  I don’t have the heart to leave him out there in low teens weather, so I drag back up to indulge him by letting him back in to sleep. Notice the deer rib cage Chili has dragged up.  So picturesque in the snow. And, now, for the sad news.  Earlier this week we had to put my Sheltie, Scout, down.  She rallied a bit last month after her vet visit, but the last ...

Like Dorothy, I have learned that there’s no place like home!  Last weekend I spent one night away from home with Mom, MIL and Aunt E.  My own bed felt so good when I came back. But, it’s not just my familiar bed that beckons me back.  No, it’s the warm greeting I receive from those who await me: my pets! Last Saturday, as we were making were way home, my phone rang.  It was my son: “ Mom,” he said, “ The weirdest thing…the dogs won’t come home!”   Now, let me give you the back-story: My two dogs, Chili and Scout, are usually home whenever I’m home.  When I leave for work each morning, they immediately head to Grandmom’s just up the driveway toward the road from me, where they spend most of the day. MIL spoils them, letting them in and out of her house and providing treats. Wh en I return, the dogs greet me at MIL’s and watch to see if I am turning in to visit her or if I’m passing her turn and going straight home.  Wherever I go, they go....

The grass is high.  Tractor tire is flat.  Still.  Two out of three lawn tractors are down.  I have not been able to get the repairman out because all of them have the unmitigated gall to want to work “regular” hours—you know, the ones when I’m trying cases?  MIL has offered (repeatedly) to be the point person on this repair gig, but I hate to put that on her.  I might just yet, but am going to give the next week a chance to be reasonable with its demands on me.  We’ll see. I was so looking forward to Saturday so that I could mow myself silly.  Believe me, there is enough grass to make me silly!  Instead of a good, early start, I opened my eyes to a ringing phone at 8:04 this morning.  It was MIL wondering if I’m okay because she hadn’t heard from me.  For me to sleep this late is unheard of.  I must have been exhausted. I dragged myself to the coffeepot and just as I sat down for a cup, Son called.  He was on his w...

You may recall the sorry recent saga of my Belgian Malinois, Chili.  You can see the back story at this post . He had been going missing for days at a time.  This was causing his mama (me) grave emotional distress and was ravaging Chili’s health—he was a walking skeleton by the third episode of disappearance. So, what’s a mama to do?  I took him right off to the veterinarian who in turn took his testicles right off.  ( Aha ! Take that , you wayward male!!) But the veterinarian warned me that it would take  up to three months (!) for the hormones to leave his body to the extent that he would quit roaming. This was not good news.  I am a woman who likes things my way NOW.  I was disappointed that my swift action against his sex drive would not give me an immediate cure for the roaming.  I have no good way to confine him while I am at work. But, I am beginning to learn to relax and just let the things I cannot really do much about go their o...

If you’ve read our blog much at all, you know how much V and I love our animals.  For two years, our Belgian Malinois, Chili, has been a great companion to me, my son and Scout, our Shetland Sheepdog.  Chili came to us from the West Coast as a pup—special ordered just for me!  He has been a dream dog, maturing into a real macho-type dog, just what a Malinois ought to be We live far out in the country, off the main roads, so I have always let my dogs run free.  It seems to me a dream life for a dog—plenty to sniff at, room to run, and a warm, dry bed next to Mom’s each night, not to mention plenty of food in the dish.  There is little danger of them being hit by a car, and there has never been any problem whatsoever with them running off.  Until recently.  About six weeks ago Chili was not at home when I got home…strange.  The routine was entrenched: Dogs go out the door when I leave for work, they trot down the driveway to MIL’s and spen...

If you have read very many of my posts, you know what a blessing my dogs are to me. When I was sent this video by a friend, I thought "Wow! What a sermon is that!" I had to share: C

It's drizzing rain here today, but yesterday was glorious. The weather was just perfect, and we spent the day burning our burn piles of fallen logs and sticks. Slowly, ever so slowly, my little farm is taking the shape I want. It is becoming tidier as my son and I (with help from friend Ryan) work to remove aged fences, tame underbrush, and keep the place mowed. Yesterday's effort was extremely satisfying. Shifting focus from myself (so hard to do--I have been just a tad self-absorbed!), let me say that my mother-in-law is improving daily! She's able to dress herself and move about the house. She is allowed to put 50% of her weight on her hip until she sees the doctor in two weeks so he can assess if she should put full weight to bear. We are learning about walkers and sliding bath benches, long-arm grabbers and other devices to help people with daily activities when they have had this surgery. In her home, MIL has physical therapy three times a week, occupational th...

When John Denver wrote/sang, " Life in the farm is kinda laid back.. ." I'm afraid he did not know what he was talking about. Surely the only person who could intone these lyrics is a singer who can hire stuff done and then lie back around his country home, enjoying only the relaxing part. Believe me, there is another side... In my own country world, there is always something that has been left undone: fences need mending (or the horses lead one on a harrowing chase), grass needs mowing, and electricity is sometimes missed. But it has its many, many moments of beauty. Just look at my horse, Bill, gazing out over our country place. In this picture, he embodies the nobility and serenity and peace of my life in the country. And then there is Chili, the Belgian Malinois pictured above. He is my constant companion when I am home. Oh, he can be noble, too. Sometimes. But then there is today. See that picture of him? That little item lying just next to his crumpled rug is a fres...

This morning was take-out-the-trash day. This is a chore that I have been accustomed to leaving to hubby or my son. Since neither of them is here any longer, it falls to moi ! I was determined to do my duty! Of course, duty can get in the way. I had a 9:30 a.m. appointment—no problem; I had plenty of time. That is, no problem until you factor in my “dutiful” (new) exercise regime. I got out and did a brisk walk. It was invigorating! It ran me late… I dressed in my lawyer clothes, congratulating myself on remembering the trash, a task I normally manage to repress. I went out with the first bag (yes, there were multiples, being the trashy person that I am) and stowed it in the “way back” of my little SUV. I left the back door open and went in for more. As I returned, my heart warmed; there was my Chili (one of my dogs, a Belgian Malinois), laid up in the back of the car. “Awwww,” I thought. “Poor Chili wants to go for a ride! How sweet!” Then I noticed the bottle. Lying on the ground beh...