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...

Do all of you have “legendary” pets?  I certainly hope so.  We have many, in fact almost all of the pets we have owned over the years have their own legends.  But the one that stands out—the one about whom almost all my friends have memories—was our Alaskan Malamute, now gone from us for years; I forget how many, but more than five, I know.   He was a gift to us from V.  V and her family owned Shadow’s mother, Brenna.  When Brenna had her first litter, V called and offered.  We accepted and V and her family actually chose him from the litter for us.  He came to us as “Big Mac” because he was the largest of the bunch.  We looked him over and decided he just did not look like that name to us.  My son’s good friend came up with the perfect one: “ Shadow .” Shadow’s coloring was striking.  He was black and white, and his eyes were ice blue against the black eyeliner of his coat pattern with shadowy shades of wolf grey.  Perf...

Arkansas has only one “extreme” season: summer.  Our winters are fairly mild, and very cold days are always interspersed with some warmer days.  Snow is a fleeting treat.  So we have only summer to contend with, really, so far as hard weather  Days on end of triple-digit temperatures can drag you down, and the older I get, the harder it is for me to take the heat! Now we have reached one of my favorite points in the year: open window season.   Both summer and winter preclude this, but spring and fall each offer weeks of mild weather where the windows can be thrown open to freshen the house.  My favorite part of this is sleeping with my bedroom window open, which I did last night. I live in the country and, though I hear the occasional car way up on the main road, during the deep night what predominates are natural sounds, the sounds of the woods which surround my house.  There is something comforting to me about these, and while I am awake lis...

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....

What a beautiful day, last Sunday!   We took the opportunity to work on our front  steps where the support beam had worked loose.  I use the term “we” loosely…you can see from this picture who was actually doing most of the work! Son and I purchased our first jack!!!  A hydraulic jack!  A red hydraulic jack!  (This sounds so very impressive to me….it takes so little…).  We jacked that sucker up and went to work! We had lots of help from the dogs, who simply adore it when we are outside working.  They stick right with us, offering to help, keeping a watchful eye.   There is still so much to do (always), and my place is never going to look like Martha Stewart’s home and certainly not like some of my blogging friends’ places.  I envy all you folks out there who can share pictures of gorgeous flowers and projects  It is all Son and I can do to keep the grass down and the place in repair!  It seems we both work all t...

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...

Yes, I understand that the dogs are spoiled. I do try to keep the separation clear between homo sapiens and canine in this household. Unlike V’s “Dudley” or my sister-in-law’s “Sophie,” my dogs do not presume to sleep on my bed. But they each have their own bed at my bedside. I’m not sure that’s particularly “canine” but, still, it is on the floor. My dogs both sit beautifully on command and obey the basics. I make sure to order them around every so often just to remind them. “ Stay !” I will command, for no good reason. And they both dutifully do, albeit with rolling eyes sometimes as though they are humoring me; but they do it. Rarely do they give any offense whatsoever. Still, the title of “Pack Leader” sometimes seems to hang in life’s gray area around here. Sometimes we can blame that on others…. Take the couch, for instance. Scout is eleven years old. The first nine years of her life as a dog in the house were spent contentedly on the floor. You know, where dogs liv...

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

The other night MIL and I were watching some tube together when I realized I had forgotten to bring her the mail I had gathered as I came home. I drove back down the driveway (dogs chasing along as they always do), and the dogs and I ran into the house to grab the mail. As we came back out, Chili spotted something off the porch--in the pitch blackness. Off he went. As you can see from this photo taken from my front porch in the morning daylight, I am surrounded by woods. There is a small meadow between me and the forest edge. At night the light from my porch does nothing to penetrate the dark even five feet outward. I could not see what Chili was doing; but before long I heard...the unmistakable sounds of a dog fight. There is little that raises my blood pressure more. I had no flashlight and I had no way of knowing who was getting the best of whom. After a few seconds (seemed much longer), here came Chili running back at top speed. As he cleared the steps to come on the porch beside m...