My Second First Horse

So over time details get blurred, but this is how I remember getting my second first horse.  The owner of the auction barn contacted us about a couple of 'possibles' that had come in and were slated to go into the ring that weekend.

Lady Bug

It was my Mom's birthday-- July 15, 1978--and we were going to swing by the auction barn on the way to my sister's house where we were going to a party for Mom.  I remember it was hot and the late afternoon sun steamed up the small arena behind the auction barn.  In it were several horses.  The first one that the auction owner had was a tall, light bay --two year old--mare.  I believe she was mostly quarter horse but was leggy and light built.  Just getting up on her was a challenge.  I rode her a few rounds and she was as typical two year old--frisky and full of energy and evidently green broke.  I'm sure she was a nice mare, but I did not want her.  I'd had my fill of young and frisky. 

The next candidate was a dull coated, pot bellied dark sorrel mare, with a roached mane,  blazed face and scarred neck.

She looked tired, and depressed.  After a boost up I rode her around bareback.  Around and around we plodded, with nary a twitch.   And that was that.  She was the one. I didn't need to ride anymore of those other horses.  I wanted a plodder.  A horse I could enjoy myself on--not have to worry about.  Her name was Lady and she was purchased that day for $350.00.

Another neighbor just happened to have their stock trailer there and we were able to get a ride for Lady.  The only hitch was, we had a birthday party to go to and they needed to go home.  This was problematic--and the solution was not ideal.   These neighbors lived about four miles from us across the river.   So we went to the birthday party and Lady went home with them to wait in the trailer.  I have no idea why they could not have driven her to our house later or let my dad drive the truck and trailer but that didn't seem to be an option.  We left  the party and headed out to retrieve Lady as dusk neared.  By the time we got to their house it was getting dark.

Now came the tricky part.  Dad was going to ride her home.  A strange horse.  In the dark.  On a strange (to her) road.  Phew.   She actually did better than you would expect and even crossed a very long high bridge over the river (quite remarkable since she later would balk at every bridge we came to).   However it was a harrowing ride for my Dad and Lady, and if I remember correctly he had to finally get off and lead her home a mile or two, as she just wouldn't keep going forward.

Good grief we were crazy.

But I had my horse.  Lady--or as I often called  her, Lady Bug.  She was a four year old grade quarter horse mare.   I believe she had had a hard life and was what you call 'dead-broke'.  She was also extremely head shy and very sour in disposition.  She wasn't mean, but she didn't really want much to do with humans.  She had been a working horse and had been worked hard.    I think she cow kicked my dad once, but that was about her worst.  

It took awhile--but she overcame her head shyness, and once she was treated decently (read spoiled rotten), wormed and put on a good feed, she perked up and lost her hangdog look.   Her coat became shiny and she lost that wormy looking belly.   Her mane grew out --a long and silky flaxen color.

Lady was a rock, but she was no deadbeat once she started to feel better.  She enjoyed rides as much as I did and would gawk all the way (when she wasn't trying to steal bits to eat).  We had many many lovely rides together.  I loved that horse and she was a gentle mild mannered creature.   She had a trot that would jar your teeth out and a slow plodding walk. Her feet were large and she would sometimes trip over them when she was busy sight-seeing.   My Mom and Dad would be way out ahead of us during most rides.   We would trot to catch up....fall behind...trot to catch up.

Lady was accident prone, and just off the top of my head I can think of several incidents she was 'involved' in.  One time she cut her chest badly (we think on the water tank) which took forever to heal.  Another day I came home and found her nose swollen and a huge gash between her nostrils.  It took me months to figure that one out---finding a huge hornets nest hanging low in the paddock I presume she was stung and yanked her face away only to hit her nose on a fence post.  That one took awhile too.  Then there was the time we both got into a yellow jackets nest while riding.  I did manage to get off and nearly got her led out, but they overcame us and she broke loose, bucking up the road.  She only ran to my Dad and his horse,  but we almost had a mass stampede as the yellow jackets followed  her.  On another ride I mistakenly let her step lively across the highway going down a hill and her feet came right out from under her.  We both had some skinned places but not as bad as it could have been.  I always wondered what happened to her poor neck where she carried a huge scar under her mane.  At some point she had been severely injured.

She bucked me off once.  Totally unexpected and out of character, but we had lagged behind the other two, and we were almost home.  One minute we are jogging along to catch up and the next I'm on the ground watching my gentle mare bucking off around the corner.  She was a little too gleeful looking about that, but once she caught up with the other horses she was happy.  I'll never forget the look she gave me when I came walking around the corner.  She actually turned her head back over her should to watch me walk in--- "Oh, there you are!  I wonder where you had got to".  

Lady blossomed and became a beautiful horse--she still had big clumsy feet, but had the most beautiful expressive face and eyes and her color was a rich deep sorrel.  We learned allot together.  For most of her life she lived with my Dad and Mom's horses (Comanche, my Mom's palomino gelding was added after I got Lady--it wasn't any fun to leave Mom home when we went riding!!  Sometime I'll write Comanche's story...).

We rode regularly for four or five years, but the roads became busier and we had less and less safe places to ride.  Some days it wasn't even fun to ride with the cars and motorcycles and all manner of rude drivers.  So gradually we rode less and eventually the horses became lazy pasture ornaments.  I would take Lady out and ride her on occasion and it didn't matter if it had been a year or a week she never offered any sass.  She was still 'dead broke'.  The last time I rode her was just a gentle bareback stroll around the place a few months before she started to go blind.  

When I moved out I moved Lady away from her pasture mates.  I regret that now, but at the time I didn't have a hope of ever riding her, without her being separated from the boys because they were all very herd bound.   A single strand of electric wire (rarely even hooked to a charger) kept her in.  I had Lady for 23 years before I made the very, very hard decision to put her down.

Lady outlived the two boys by a few years, but her last year was a difficult one.  I believe (now) that she most likely had Cushings.  At the time there was no internet access for easy 'diagnoses' and both vets that I consulted never mentioned this.  About two years before she died her coat became long and shaggy and I had to scissors most of it off because she wouldn't shed out.  Sometime after Christmas she started shying at things that would normally not even raise an eyebrow.  Then one day the pieces fell into place and it dawned on me she was going blind. I was heart sick.  I spent an entire day picking up rocks and other obstacles in her paddock and stringing yellow plastic rope to guide her on a path to the barn--for a while she could see enough to use this rope as a guide.

She did pretty good for awhile, but by summer she had developed a constant drainage from her nostrils.  Antibiotics and other drugs didn't cure it.  One vet said she 'probably' had tumors which had caused the eyesight loss and the constant drainage. She began walking in small circles in the pasture.  It was distressing to see her like this.   One day leading her out to pasture, her steps were heavy and her beautiful eyes were dull and I knew it was time.  She was 27 years old when I had her put down and we had spent 23 years together--good friends to the end.   

Lady was the horse I dreamed all my childhood of.  She was a one in million--maybe not the 'perfect horse' in conformation or talent, but the 'perfect horse' in gentle spirit.   I was lucky to get her and I think she was probably thinking she won the lottery to land in a 'soft' home where she only had to go out on leisurely rides a few times a week, and spend the rest of the time hanging out and eating.

It was a perfect match---a quiet sensible horse for a quiet and less than confident rider.  We had a good ride of it, we did.  I will always remember you Lady Bug.

My First Horse

Sunrise Surprise, Missouri Fox Trotter--My First Horse

Later in the year after my pony died, the serious search for a horse began. I had a little money saved and my parents would help me if needed. When searching for a horse, we did everything wrong. We got in a hurry...and we went to the horse auction. We happened to know the guy who helped run the auction, but in the end it did little to stop the inevitable.

The first auction we went to, (my Mom and Dad and me) there were only a few possibilities. One was a large grey mare who had split feet and a cranky attitude (but who could blame her?). The other was a pretty little chestnut gelding with a blaze face, tied up to the side of the stall. He was very mellow, with lip hanging and sleepy eyes. He was very pretty. Let's just say that my Dad was immediately taken with this horse. I thought he was pretty nice, and I wanted a horse real bad....

Dad kept circling back to the horse and we got some more information on him. He was two years old (sense a pattern here?) and saddle broke, and was a registered Foxtrotter gelding. I think we were warned from the auction owner about 'not wanting that horse', but we were caught up in the flow of horse buying. Sunny came in the ring and the bidding commenced hot and heavy. My heart sank as we only had so much to spend. Then suddenly he started bucking and pitching quite a fit. When the dust cleared guess who were the only ones still bidding? Yep.

On July 5, 1978, I had my first horse--Sunrise Surprise was mine for $325.00. Our neighbor was coincidentally there buying a pony for his kids, and we were able to arrange for him to haul Sunny along with the pony to our house--in a pickup with stock racks. By the time we got him home, it was dark and unloading him onto the bank of the yard was a bit tricky.

Okay, now remember when I mentioned he was tied up, lip drooping and sleepy eyed? Uhm...well in hindsight this is usually a good indication that a horse has been doped.

My Dad & Sunrise Surprise

So Sunny was home all bright eyed and bushy tailed. He was a sweet as could be and I rode him a few times with Dad hanging on to the halter. Sunny seemed a tad, well, unhappy about being rode, but we were sure that would ease as he became used to his new home. The last time I rode Sunny was again with my Dad holding onto him, as he still was awful prone to crow hop and want to go, go, go. That was the time that I missed the brick wall of a building by a few inches when he sent me flying. The 'surprise' in Sunrise was showing itself.

There was my first horse--all beautiful and sweet and unrideable--at least by me. So Dad said I'll take him and we'll buy you another. All he needed was some miles on him to get him to settle down...

I decided this would be a good plan. We put the word out to the auction owner and a few weeks later he called to tell us he had a couple of mares that had been brought in for the auction later in the week. Did we want to come try them out? Yes we did.

One of the mares was a --wait for it---two year old bay. She was very pretty...and high stepping and spirited. A couple of turns on her and I was ready for the next horse to ride. This one was a dull looking mare with a big belly, roached mane and a large scar on the side of her neck. She had a wide blaze face and three socks. Up on her I went, and was told she was 'dead broke'. Around and around we plodded, with nary a high step along the way. Yep. She was the one. I wanted dead broke, and I didn't care how she looked. She was four years old. On July 15, 1978 (my Mom's birthday) I got my second first horse--Lady.

As for Sunny, he never did ever really settle down. He was, er, quirky. He would be normal for several rides and then he would explode into a bucking, rearing fit. Nothing seemed to ever get him past that. One time he went over backwards with Dad in a ditch, and another time he threw Dad off when he saw his reflection in a plate glass window. My Dad landed on his feet on the pavement and ended up with an injured foot (which still bothers him to this day). Forget anyone else thinking they were going to ride him! The other side of Sunny was sweet, smart and mellow, and he had a beautiful carriage. He was a lucky horse and lived out his life with my Dad and Mom and was finally put down at age 26 from a twisted gut.

Next up in the horse chronicles---my life with Lady Bug. Dead broke and proud of it.

Of Spring and Things.....

Gracie works the crowd for cookies on shearing day

 (I started this post probably close to a month ago...)

We've had a few days of really warm weather and a good, if somewhat violent, rain last night.  The grass is growing and the fruit trees are s-l-o-w-l-y flowering.  The sheep have been pretending to graze most days.  They are eager for those tender morsels of grass, even if they are on a pasture that hasn't any growth on it yet.  It gives them something to do and makes them happy.  Then they come back to the barn and pick through and mostly waste their hay at night.

I've been cutting them allot of slack lately.  Mostly out of guilt.  And because it looks like a geriatric hospital out there right now.

Patient Lanny Wilson gets his 10th 'haircut' --he is 11 this year

In case you haven't kept track lo these many years, I now have  have two sheep that are 12, two that are 11, several 10 and a whole host of 8 and 9 year olds.  Let's just say that sheep are like people--some age a whole lot more gracefully than others!

Shearing was a week ago last Thursday.  (perhaps a post about that soon?)  It turned out to be a good day in many ways.  However, it was also a bloody mess.  I don't know what the heck was up with the shearer and I don't know what the heck was up with me.  Scarcely did a sheep escape a nick this year and there were way to many that fell in the 'really nasty' range.  Something was certainly off.   Towards the end  I was just praying that they'd all live through it.   If that wasn't bad enough, the first several sheep I trimmed hooves on, I quicked.  One so severe that blood literally spurted out and splattered my shirt.  I've trimmed many a hoof in my day and sometimes I do misjudge, but what appeared to be overgrowth...wasn't on that day.   It was a mess.    My wondering mind blames the full moon.   I've had this shearer for 11 years--he is gentle with the sheep always.  He has nicked them, on one occasion bad enough to stitch up--but over that many years and that many sheep it seems small.  Until this year.   We have two shearers for this area.  Two.  I'll have him back next year, but I'm prepared to find out what the heck is going on if it goes this way again.   Something was certainly off.

Spring A Week Ago

One little yearling ewe lamb got off the shearing floor without me or apparently the shearer noticing she had a very deep cut where her shoulder and side join.  She is a light fawn moorit and truthfully sometimes it is hard to see cuts right away on the brownish background.  But I sure saw it when she was out walking around.  I kept thinking it can't be as bad as I think.....  It was.  There was a three to four inch triangle of flesh hanging down and it was deep.  Friday afternoon I tricked them up again, and caught her.  I fastened her in the stanchion and cleaned and stitched the wound.  It still doesn't look good, but she seems fine over a week later and it is slowly healing.

Spring Last Night---Flood! 

The day after it was like the walking wounded, when I gazed out upon my little flock.  I felt a little shell shocked, and they sure looked it.   However I must say they seemed to be in good spirits.  The ewe that I quicked so bad limped for a week.  Talk about guilt.

Back Gate -- stepping stones disappearing into the 'flood'

Another ewe did some super sheep hijinks while I was attempting to pen up and catch the little yearling ewe.  I think that ewe hurt her leg then --she limped for a few days.  There was allot of random limping it seemed there for a bit.

Sheep are unpredictable critters.  Do something that you think is relatively minor--like dose for worms or wear a skirt with big swirls on it--and they won't trust you for weeks.  Then again do something truly awful like catch them twice in two days,  once to shear and another to stitch them up and you become war buddies.  Go figure. 

Then the weather got colder and they looked so forlorn with their little nekkid shivery bodies.  Extra eats helped with that and fortunately the weather warmed back up within a few days. 

Finally when I thought they were getting better, Lanny Wilson, my big white Dorset/Merino wether started acting 'weird'.  He wouldn't lay down, and would stand looking depressed and shifting his hind legs back and forth.  His appetite seemed to be good...but he just wouldn't or couldn't lay down.  My first thought was urinary calculi.   It's always worst case scenario with me.  I consulted with the vet on Friday and decided to treat with pain reliever, muscle relaxer and something to break up urinary crystals.   After I gave him all his doses that evening (after a fairly moderate rodeo--he is a big boy) he urinated.  Well.  That was good...no blockage.  He finally lay down Saturday evening.  He was very relaxed.   Another shot of muscle relaxer the next day and he has improved quite a bit--he is walking more normal and was waiting at the gate this morning.  We will see what happens when the drugs wear off!   We think 'since he is at the age where he could have back trouble' (vet's words--I think he was poking fun at me...) that might be the cause.  He possibly could have gotten it hurt during shearing, although I remember him being very quiet through the whole thing.  At eleven sheep years though, I expect one becomes more fragile.

The flooded back alleyway--I had to get the hay on the dolly through that mess.....the dogs were no help

Friday after I got home from work and the vet, I sat out and watched the sheep for awhile to see if Lanny could/would urinate.  While I'm watching him, I see Callum in the background going through his elaborate ritual of trying to find an easy way to lay down.  Cal had his back fractured (we think) many years ago in a ram fight.    While he has since them had an odd pacing gait, he always seemed to move and get around just fine, until a year or so ago.  Now he is stiffer and it takes him longer to get up and down.   Sitting with the sheep wasn't particularly restoring that afternoon.

And of course the sheep were high and dry in the barn awaiting their evening meal...thankyouverymuch...

I'm happy that shearing is behind us now.  I'll have to do some trimming on some that were in the rise, but the bulk of it is done.  I have 19 fleeces stored in the garage that I'll need to skirt for the second time, get weighed, labeled and sorted out into 'process' or 'raw fleece sales' .

For now though, I'm still spreading some seed on the pastures--only a little as it's very expensive--but there are bald places from the drought.  Most of the clover didn't make it.   Little jobs like that are keeping me busy in the evenings. 

A River Runs Through ....the Pasture

 Here it is a few days later and I still don't have this post completed.  Kinda the story of my life right now.  Anyway we got heavy rains yesterday--almost three inches-- so I'm pretty sure some of the latest seed I spread earlier in the week floated off to the river.  Little bitter about that.   The weather has also turned off much colder...again.  It's suppose to be in the 30s  tonight. Back to building fires in the stove.   Hope that beautiful growing grass doesn't get bit back. 

I'm pretty sure though after this spell of cold it is going to really be Spring. 

Sunset on the lake in my backyard.....

Hope Spring has sprung at your place!  

Really, Spring?

Woke up this morning to 34 degrees and snow showers.  I vowed last Monday that I wasn't going to build any more fires.  Done with it--no fire, no ashes, no wood to carry in.  It was 80 degrees Wednesday.  It dropped to the 40s yesterday.  Today is cold.  Tonight is cold.  Probably tomorrow too.

So, I'm building fires again.  I'm down to my last two sticks of dry wood--kindling is getting low too.  I have bunches of 'green' wood that is damp from all the rain.  I hope we don't have a setback on the grass or lose the fruit tree blossoms tonight. 

While 80 degrees is a bit much, a nice steady 70s would be great.   Like it matters what I think though.

On the bright side.  The sun did come out today!  Woot. 

And last night I harvested 17 wild Morels and the old hens produced two eggs yesterday.   Not sure if we will have more Morels, but that 80 degree humid day did pop them up.   The old girls have been laying steadily for several weeks--a couple eggs every other day.  Pretty darn good for three ten year old hens.  I'm proud of them.  I don't think they see to good anymore and maybe a little chicken dementia setting in (or maybe they've just decided to do what they please to do, regardless of previous schedules), but they still lay good eggs.   Two are Americuanus and one is half Americauna so all the eggs are a light green. 

Hope Spring springs soon wherever you are.   Last year we were ahead a month or so, and that didn't end well (drought).  This year we've had ample rain (as in lots and lots) and are now about a month behind.  So we will see where that goes.

Have a great weekend!

The Neighbors Are Back.....

Well, it's for sure now, Spring is  here.  You can't really go by the weather, what with it jumping back and forth from hot summer day to cold winter night temperatures.  The surest sign Spring has sprung is that the summer neighbors have moved back.   I have mixed feelings.

They moved back in Saturday morning, in their typical rowdy fashion.   I like having the place to myself, and would be happy to never have neighbors.  It takes some adjustment to get used to these guys again. 

For one thing they are a big family-- often having knock down drag out fights all over the place.  They can be just downright rude at times.  Their toiletry habits aren't very nice either--and that is all I'll say about that.  They aren't very noisy, but they don't work so they are always hanging around.  

I guess the worst thing about them is that they are nosy.  Very nosy.  And their place is just across the fence from my side yard.   They tease the dogs and it's a struggle to keep them from barking at them all the time.   When I sit on my deck, there they are---they'll come up and hang out just over the fence and there is no privacy.   Everything I do seems to fascinate them, and I've even caught them looking in my windows!   It can get old. 

Yes, I've talked to them about it---but it falls on deaf ears.   So much for the peaceful days of winter.  They've been coming back every summer for years and years now,  so you'd think I'd be used to them by now.  

They do hunt coyotes though, so I often feel better about the sheep during the summer.  However they do the same with the deer so it makes it tough for the deer to rearrange their grazing habits. 

But I do have to say....I'd rather have these gals for neighbors any day than most people!  Even if they are nosy. 

Stranger On The Farm

The Stranger

Friday was a stressful day at work and to top it off I had to go by the dreaded Mart store afterward with extensive list in hand.  However the weather was unseasonably warm and lovely so at dusk it was finally time to settle in for a nice sit out on the deck.

Chatting on the phone to Mom, I grabbed what was left of my soda and stepped out into the lovely warm, quiet evening air.  Just what I needed.

All of ten minutes of the soothing sounds of night settling around.  Then my dogs started in.  I scolded them.  I threatened them, and finally reeled them in and put up the ex pen so they had to stay on the deck with me, instead of charging around the yard screaming at the top of their collie lungs.

They didn't want to settle, and grumbled about it, and milled around.  So much for decompressing.  As I sat there, it began to register in my tired brain that there was a white spot down across the field that shouldn't be there.  I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was.   Deer often cross the road and into the field in this particular area, so perhaps it was a deer with it's tail turned to me?   But no, it was too short for that, and then it moved.  Not much but a little.  The more I stared the more it started looking like a Corgi sitting there staring at me.  Or maybe even Heidi my Dad and Mom's dog.  Still on the phone with Mom I squeaked out..there is a dog in the field!  Horrible words.   Then I asked her if Heidi was in their yard (yes she was, and no she doesn't really look like a Corgi except her coloring and facial markings might look similar a half acre away at dusk).

What the heck is this suppose to be the girls ask

So I slipped in and got my trusty binoculars.  Sure enough---a Corgi was just sitting there watching the 'party' on the deck.    I have neighbors, but none that close and I've not seen a Corgi around here.  However my new weekend neighbors across the street from me were down for the night.  It did seem a bit coincidental, although I hadn't seen them with any pets.  

Being the concerned idiot that I tend to be about animals, after stashing the collie girls into the hallway, I slipped out and walked over to the fence line and called the dog.  I didn't think it would come, but it didn't take long and I could hear the jingle of the collar as it ran.  The thought went through my mind that this would be an easy solve since it had a collar on and what sounded like tags jingling. 

Minty inspecting from a distance

The dog ran right up to the fence, wiggling and twisting--happy to see a friendly face at last.  He (yes he had to 'mark' the fence) looked to be a well kept and well groomed little fellow, and definitely a Pembroke Corgi.  He had on a nice camo collar but no tags.  Grrr

I couldn't get him through the fence, so walked down and he eventually worked himself around to the other side of the pasture and slipped through the cattle panel squares.  Then I snapped the leash on him and checked just to make sure there were no tags.  It was dark by then.   Hadn't a clue what to do with him now that I had him, but eventually tied him to the fence, and broke out one of the girls crates.  I stashed him in that, took his collar off to check for numbers written inside, then went in and called my new part-time neighbors to make sure he wasn't theirs.  I mean it probably wouldn't look very good if I snatched their dog the fourth night they were out here!

No, it wasn't theirs, they don't have any pets at the moment, but they did wonder what all the 'neighborhood dogs' (Uhmm...that would be my dogs...) were riled up about. Well, that was a downer, didn't look like an easy fix after all.

In the end, the other crate was set up in the hallway, food and water dishes with contents put in it, and a soft blanket and a sheet over it, to make it seem safe.  Then I put the collies in the house, put his collar back on, leashed him up and walked around a bit so he could 'do his business'.  Then I settled him in the crate for the night and very quietly went about my business in the house so that he wouldn't get to barking.  I only heard a few peeps out of him the whole night.  What a good boy he was --no crate soiling either.

He sure was a cute fellow, very cheerful, but obviously worried.  (I don't know why a little dog like me is out on my own!!)  I did the usual--called likely neighbors, listed him on craigslist and finally went to bed.

Carly's new friend

Strangely enough, years ago I had another Corgi show up in my sheep pasture one night!   I easily found his home, as he belonged to my neighbors just down the road.  At the time they raised a few Corgis, but they had been gone for months, only occasionally coming back to check their place.  They had been here that week though, so I called a friend who had their contact info, and ended up calling them...just in case.   (Eventually they called back and he wasn't theirs).

Up early Saturday to let the girls out, and walk the 'new guy'.  Because he was obviously in very good health and he seemed outgoing, I let him sniff noses with the girls through the fence.  Later I would let them the girls out and they would all introduce themselves.   Carly was especially taken with him, and thought he might be her own special furry toy.  He was quite feisty though and managed to hold his own.   I waited around for awhile to see if anyone would call or contact me from the craigslist ad.  No one did, so I called the vet and asked if I could 'bring in a little dog I'd found to see if he had a chip'.   They said sure.  Loading him up was easy---as I bent over to boost him into the truck seat he took his stobby little legs and hurled himself right on up!   A truck ride!  Oh boy, oh boy!!  

During the ride out to town, he was very good and kept cuddling up next to me, and giving me the 'I like you, but I really just want to go home now'  look.  I tried to explain it all to him--how I'd do my best to find his people, but once in awhile that didn't work out, but whatever happened he'd have a good home with someone.

I've went to this vet for years, and they know I occasionally drag in something like this.  When I pulled up and got out to let him do his business, another car pulled up and a man got out.  He hollered, hey I have a dog just like that!  I asked him if his was missing.  He looked confused, and said, no his was a girl, and a little bigger, but looked allot like this dog.  I told him I had brought it in to see if was chipped because it had just shown up at my house.  He was like, you are kidding me, right?   He offered to take the dog if I couldn't find the owner, and I said, give me your number just in case, but I would first be attempting to find the owner of this well cared for little guy. 

Can I Go Home Now???  

In the vet's office we went--me, the dog and the dogs new friend.  The gal I spoke to on the phone asked if she could help me and I explained who I was (she is relatively new there).  The reception area is L shaped with exam rooms on either end and the desk in between.  The desk has a very tall counter so those sitting behind can't see the short furry people that come in.   The other receptionist was busy with another client and we exchanged greetings and she continued to concentrate on helping the person ahead of me.  (This gal and I went to school together all those many moons ago...)

The young chickie whose name I do not know, went around through the exam room to get the scanner.  I started over to meet her, and about halfway across the room, she says---where did you find this dog,???  I told her, and she looked odd, but then went about trying to scan him.  The dog was being a wiggle wart, so I bent over to help her.  About that time,  the disjointed pieces of conversation...little dog, found, corgi...must have registered with the other receptionist.  Suddenly she comes flying around the counter, slams through the swinging door and goes down on her knees--"MOOSE!  Moose it IS you!   I can't believe this!  Where have you been (directed at Moose), where did you find him (directed at me)???  You are something else" (directed at me.)  (I'm guessing because I'm always dragging something in??)  I was totally confused--I asked her in disbelief--is he YOUR dog???    No he wasn't, but he belonged to her son!  

This gal lives just over the river from me, but her son lives several miles beyond that--probably at least five miles with a river and two creeks in between.  Moose it seems had been gone four going on five days.   He normally is a house dog and the buddy to her grandson, but it seems they put him on a tie out sometimes when they go off to run errands.  When they got back this last time, there was no Moose.  The tie out wasn't busted, just looked like someone had unsnapped him.  They feared he  had been stolen.  (And he may have been---he sure didn't look like he had been roaming for almost five days and over five miles!).

Well.  That was an easy solve, but what are the odds?    That little feller got lucky, and I hope they a) put i.d. on him (or chip or both) and b. take precautions about tying him out again, in case someone did steal him.   I have a feeling they will keep a close eye on him!  

We've long suspected there is a family down the road that are either 'bunchers' or just like to collect nice looking dogs, as they have forever turned up with new dogs over the years--with a constant turnaround.  No way to prove it, but we wonder if this little fellow ended up in their hands and then somehow got out and took off.  I'm sure we'll never know.

I could have given this dog away three times......

Much like little Jake the Jack Russell, you have to wonder what their story is.  With Jake I've never been able to find out and that haunts me a little even though I know he went to a wonderful new home.  

Friday night my prayers were for a quick resolving of the situation and I am happy that Moose was reunited with his people.   I'm also happy I could help him out.  Mostly I'm happy I don't have another dog! 

 So many cats and kittens have turned up here over the years, and most I've been able to help in some way--if not me, then my Mom.  Dogs have been fewer (thankfully) but I've also seen my share of them.  Most of them I placed in new homes---Blue the cattle dog that looked like he fell off a truck;  Brownie--a little starving hound mix that I had to snare to catch;  Windy the beautiful Pyrenees pup that the collies looked on with horror at her rowdy ways; an obnoxious (but beautiful) white Shitzu looking mix;  A male Corgi who sat and barked in the middle of my sheep pasture one dark night; and of course Boone, the French Mastiff who came to stay; the stiff old Shiba Inu male who wanted help, but didn't want to be touched; Jake the Jack, and Moose the Corgi.   Forgive me little ones if I've forgotten any of you--your lives have mattered to me. 

Now...I need to go check my gateposts and see if there is a special mark on them, encouraging wayward animals to stop in!

Snow

Cardinal In the Snow

We had another odd little storm front plow through last Monday night.  When I left work on Monday it was starting to sleet and snow.  By the time I got home the flakes were coming down heavily and the wind had changed to the North East and was howling.  Literally.  I've never heard it howl around my house like it did that night.  It was very unsettling.  The dogs kept barking because they didn't know what was causing the noise.  I really feared my deck would go sailing into the night.  The wind finally settled down a bit by bedtime, but the snow and rain kept up off and on all night.

I like this one--three Cardinals, a Purple Finch and either a sparrow or Gold Finch in the middle

Again I had to close down the cat door since the wind was howling through it.  In the process Tempe saw what I was doing and ran out into the wind, sleet and snow.  She huddled under the bench in the catio just long enough to show she could take it then ran back to the house.  Lucky her I didn't accidentally lock her out.  Squirrel.

Grand Old Cedar In the Snow (this one didn't lose it's life in the insurance debacle)

Tuesday morning there was about 3.5 inches and it was a very heavy wet snow.  When I looked outside all I saw was a wall of white.  It was quite a sight--the snow was so wet it had adhered to the fence so you couldn't even see the wire.  The top of the catio looked like it had a white roof on it.   I have to admit it was all very beautiful but I was glad we didn't get any more than we did.  The weight of the snow was causing small branches to snap off as it was.  We did not (thankfully) get the awful amounts of snow they had up near Kansas City.

I ended up staying home as the roads were extremely slick --- a semi cab managed to almost slide off the road and get firmly stuck going up the hill down the road.  Our electricity went off for about three hours after flickering on and off for about an hour.

Had this kept up we would have been in big trouble---the snow was glued to the trees!

The birds were hungry.

Watching Create channel (PBS) made me hungry, and I longed to be able to paint as quickly and happily as Bob Ross (used to).

We need the moisture, but I'd just as soon get non-freezing rain.  I think it snowed almost everyday last week, but after Tuesday most of it didn't stick.  Kind of a like a drizzly day only with snow.

It sounds like we might get some warmer weather, and with all the moisture that should help bring the pastures on.  The sheep will be thrilled.   I'm  ready for Spring.   

Minty and Carly acting subdued in the snow--but really they were having the time of their lives!  They loved it.

Verity was chewing me out about something--the snow was exciting but cold.  Can you see how the snow stuck to the wire top of the catio?

These are the snow balls that accumulated on the dogs as they played!  It was a very wet snow.

I think they were trying to warm their toes....

Ashley hated it, and was only out for a bit under duress.

Tempe on the top shelf.  Little snow ain't gonna stop that tortie-tude.

This was the fence--really!  It was a very white world. 

I love this picture......

Now let's move on to Spring!