Farm Fresh Stories

Sunday, June 27 2010

Thank you so much! Since Kona's death, we have received countless notes of condolences from readers. You've sent cyberhugs, tears, and stories of your own loss. Thank you. Thank you so much. I wanted to just take a moment to let you know that even though you tell me this website enriches your lives, you, my dear readers, enrich my life too.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 10:27 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments | Email

Saturday, June 26 2010

Eulogy

Twenty years from now, someone will dig up the garden outside the kitchen window and wonder

why there is a bag of kitchen trash buried with a dog. You may be wondering that yourself.

Yesterday when we buried Kona we struggled to find something to bury with him, some treasure

that he lived for, something to carry with him along his journey. But stuffed animals,

bones, and tennis balls were just not his thing. So Other Half came up with an idea that

despite the crappy day, had me laughing through the tears.

"Bury him with a bag of garbage!"

It was perfect! Kona, The Enforcer, was THE Quintessential Garbage Hound. From the time he

was a toddler, he was raiding garbage cans. We used to keep the garbage can under the sink.

He learned to open the cabinet. We put bungee cords on the cabinet doors. He tore the

cabinet molding off and chewed the bungee cords in half. (I KNOW! He was a BEAST!)

Soooo. . . I bought a fancy $70 brushed metal trash can with a step-pedal that lifted the

lid. He learned to step on the pedal and lift the lid.

So we started keeping the garbage in small plastic bags in the kitchen sink that had to be

carried outside the main gate and placed into the outside garbage can EVERY TIME YOU LEFT

THE HOUSE! If you failed, even once, to remove that bag from the sink, he would have it

shredded all over the kitchen floor when you returned. Just last week I had to call Other

Half and have him return home because we forgot to take the garbage sack with us. He had

made it exactly one-tenth of a mile down the street. By the time Other Half walked into the

kitchen, Kona already had the bag on the floor. (Evil Beast!)

Kona was my Cadaver Dog. He retired shortly after I moved to the Crime Scene Unit. This was

through no fault of his. Dead people on duty and off duty was a bit too much for me, so he

retired to be a full-time ranch dog. He handled retirement quite well. It didn't matter to

him if he was looking for a dead people or looking for rats in the hay barn, a job was a

job.

I still vividly remember his last cadaver search. He was called to find skeletal remains

that had been scattered over a building site by a bulldozer. It was already summer in

Texas. It was hot. He worked like a trooper and soon found what turned out to be a key

piece of evidence - a large chunk of skull. It was the back of man's head. In the back of the skull

was a bullet hole. Our victim had been murdered.

That was the last time he worked for the medical examiner's office, but he worked the rest

of his life keeping rats out of the barn, carrying hammers and buckets for me, and generally

enforcing all the rules on the farm.

He and Blue Heeler hated each other. Since Blue Heeler was a puppy, Kona tormented him

without mercy. I promised him I won't let Blue Heeler piss on his grave.

He was my cadaver dog. He was my farm dog. He was my friend.

Godspeed, Little Buddy

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 10:15 am | Permalink | 3 Comments | Email

Friday, June 25 2010

Prelude's Kona Winds

9/5/02 - 6/25/10

At the moment, words fail me.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 03:43 pm | Permalink | 6 Comments | Email

Thursday, June 24 2010

The Wagon Maker

Other Half and I took a short trip across Texas this week to search for a wagon. Our journey landed us in Gonzales, Texas, home of Texas Wagon Works and skilled craftsman Hugh Shelton. It was a hunt. This is a "turn right at the third cattle guard" kind of place. Even with directions, we still had to call Hugh for help. Fortunately we found it, and he didn't have to call out the bloodhounds.

You wouldn't believe this place. It was magical!

Follow the wagon wheels . . .

Nestled deep in the forest . . .

Behind this door . . .

The magic began . . .

We almost bought this buckboard. It was exactly what we came for.

But . . . he was still working on a farm cart. It was a good starter vehicle for folks just learning to drive. We decided to get the cart because it was more versatile and buy the buckboard next year when we're ready to graduate from a 2-wheel vehicle to a 4-wheel vehicle. I liked the farm cart . . . except it was blue. Other Half liked the blue. It matches his tractor. (MEN!) I wanted it in black. Or maybe red. Or maybe I'll just hand-paint that Bad Boy up like a Gypsy Wagon! We'll see.

The cart isn't finished yet, but it was fun sitting down with a wagon maker and having him custom-make the cart for us. That, Friends and Neighbors, was more fun than a barrel of monkeys!

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 10:04 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments | Email

Sunday, June 20 2010

Yeeee Hawww!

We hitched Ona to a cart today! For the very first time, I drove my own horse! Wooo hoooo!!!!

Ona is a great teacher!

I LIKE driving!

I REALLY like driving!

Now it's time to find a wagon!

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 11:04 pm | Permalink | 1 Comment | Email

Friday, June 18 2010

Porch Ponies

There's a reason why we call them the Porch Ponies.

My lawnmower died again. That happens when your mower is old and held together with duct tape and baling wire.

This week the belt broke. Can't fix that with duct tape. It must wait until Other Half returns home. But fear not! I have a whole barn full of lawn mowers!

This was the view from my kitchen window last night.

The view from my front door this morning

When the Porch Ponies get bored, they hang out on the porch and beg for carrots. Other people have dog smudges on the glass. We have pony smudges on the glass.

(I'm sure my neighbors with the Better Homes & Garden Yard hate me.)

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 10:07 am | Permalink | 2 Comments | Email

Wednesday, June 16 2010

His Master's Bag

Other Half left on Monday to go to K9 training again. Cowdog saw the duffle bag sitting on the floor and figured it out.

First he tried to climb into the bag.

"Pleaaase take me!!!!"

Then he tried to stow away in the police car.

(Something tells me that in a sea of German Shepherds and Belgian Malinois, a single black and white Border Collie "might" stand out.)

Poor Cowdog

Life is so tough. It's gonna be a long week for one little black and white dog.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 09:40 am | Permalink | 2 Comments | Email

Thursday, June 10 2010

The Chasm

He sees her.

His Lady Love

She comes.

But wait . . .

Something keeps them apart.

The Chasm

The Great Abyss - Eater of horses large and small and any who dare to step across its yawning jaws.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 09:56 am | Permalink | 2 Comments | Email

Wednesday, June 09 2010

Old Dogs & Young Dogs

Old Dog

Old Dog watching Young Dog

Young Dog (wet dog!)

Young Dog Zigs!

Young Dog Zags!

Young Dog Zooms!

"That Chick makes me tired just watchin' her. I think I need a nap . . ."

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 11:00 am | Permalink | 0 Comments | Email

Tuesday, June 08 2010

True Value

Even though she is a driving horse. I REALLY bought Ona because you can do THIS on her!

We're not quite sure if she is broke to ride. Leg aids appear to be a foreign language to her. But she is so easy-going that you can sit on her back and just veg out while she munches. Yesterday the kids came down for a visit.

The Supervisor hopped on Ona to survey her little kingdom.

The Kingdom met with her approval.

Ona wasn't bothered in the least bit by her tiny passenger.

And THAT measures the True Value of a horse.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 12:19 pm | Permalink | 2 Comments | Email

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