Farm Fresh Blog

We had no sooner finished up our moral dilemma with the homeless dog (see CSI Blog: Moral Dilemmas ) when Other Half's phone rang.  It was Son.  He had stopped at the local Chevron where lo and behold, he was flagged down by this:

  She called out to him, "HEY YOU! You with the thumbs!  I need some HELP DOWN HERE!!!!"

So he scooped her up and called his father. . .  sigh . . .

(Don't get excited. She's not staying. We do not need another cat. We have four barn cats and one old house cat.)

Irrational people can argue that I lost a barn cat this winter, and my house cat is old.  My argument is that three barn cats is enough, and if I lose the house cat, and if I actually "want" a cat in the house, then I can bring one of the barn cats back inside.  (Faith votes for this!) So at 1 AM I was snapping pictures of her cute little self and then I slapped them to the inbox of every Soft Touch I know.

For the time being she's staying in "The Cat Room" which is where the last litter of calico kittens was raised. It currently contains a day bed where Retired Police Dog sleeps. (note all the dog hair) She and House Cat are locked in there with a litter box, some furniture and some toys. House Cat won't hurt her and may actually enjoy the company. I refuse to name her. 

I got up in the middle of the night to check my email.  Dear Friend From England Who Lives In Texas Now (aka: DFFE) sent me a message at 2:42 AM informing me that she does NOT need a kitten, but she congratulates me on my new kitten. (She said, "sorry - that was pure evil but I cannot sleep and it's late.)

I refuse to name this cat!  I refuse to name this cat!  Hey!  Don't you think her markings look like a puzzle?  Maybe I will call her Puzzle until I find her a new home.

Yesterday I bought a little window unit air conditioner for the bedroom.  Naturally it wouldn't fit in the bedroom windows, so we had to install it in the master bathroom.  We cranked the thermostat down low and now the bedroom is quite comfortable.  The bathroom, however, has icicles hanging from the toilet!

Our message for the day is brought to us courtesy of Faith the Barn Cat who wants to be a House Cat again:

"This is what you get for shutting me outside with the fleas . . .  and no air conditioning!" 

 "Can I come back in the house now?"

"I don't take up much room and I promise I'll use the kitty litter box this time!"

Yesterday Tropical Storm Hermine rolled across Texas. We were expecting bands of heavy rains so I did what I could do to clear drainage and prevent my barn from flooding. The rains started on Monday. Tuesday morning more bands were coming in.  Other Half & Cowboy had run to town and I was playing on my computer. BUT . . . I had that puppy unplugged and was using the battery and an air card!   I had no sooner finished what I was doing and shut down my trusty laptop when a bolt of lightning struck.  BAM!!!

Dogs came racing into the kitchen!  "MOM!  Is that normal?"

Not wanting to create titty-baby K9's, I walked around in a sing-song voice and said, "WOW!  Look at THAT!  Ain't it cool?  Holy Toledo!  How cool was that??!!" as I checked the house for damage.  The dogs were not fooled.  Then I smelled the smoke. Electrical wires were burning somewhere.  Holy shit!  (I did not say this in a sing-song voice.)

I immediately phoned Other Half to inform him that the house was just struck by lightning and "something" was burning but I couldn't find it.  I said this as I was hustling all the dogs and the house cat outside.  They were like Elementary students in a fire drill.  "Is this for real?  Is there really a fire? Can I call my parents to come pick me up?"

Other Half happened to be less than 1/4 mile off and as soon as he rolled up he hopped out of the truck (it may have still been rolling) to examine the roof.  No damage.  We did find this:

  A power surge had literally blown a light fixture apart!

 This used to be a light bulb.

The television immediately shut off.  Other Half turned on the breaker and for a moment we saw a green weather man.  Yes, he was green! Then we got this message:

And then the television and satellite receiver expired.

The burning smell soon subsided but as Other Half went around the house testing stuff with his electrical doo-hickey he found a problem in the area where we smelled burning.  Don't ask me to explain it.  I didn't understand.  Something about open ground or some such.  All I saw was a red light on his tester and he yelled "Cut it off!  Cut it off!"

Sooooo . . . since I have worked Electrocution Deaths before, I didn't want Other Half to even bother trying to find the problem. I called an electrician . . .

. . . who came out in the rain, took one look at the socket, and said, "In my business we call this "BOOM!"

He worked for three hours repairing the damage, got the ceiling fan in the living room working again, and then gave us the happy news that our air conditioner was fried. 

"Do what!"

Then I called Allstate while Other Half called an air conditioning repair guy.  Honest air conditioning repair guys are busy.  Cuz they're honest!  Our man won't be able to make it out until next Monday.  Eegaaads! It's summertime in Texas!

We did okay with fans last night, but the weather is still relatively cool from the storms.  When it clears up, things might get ugly hot. We may have to get a little window unit for the bedroom.

Or . . . we may have to move into the "Other House." The Weekend House is his house B.M. (before Me!)  The Weekday House is my house B.H. (before him!) Neither farm is big enough for ALL the livestock so we bounce between them until we both retire and move to Bumfuktexas.

We'll see.  I'm trying to remain positive.  Lightning caused a lot of problems, but it could have been so much worse.  Plus, at least we were home! The house might have caught fire.  My DOGS!!!!!!  I shudder to think. I'm sure that in the long run, we'll see this as a blessing rather than a curse. It might not be fun, but it is an adventure!

To be continued . . .

Last night Other Half and I were enjoying dinner with some friends when I received a text message from my dog.  Yes, from my dog!  Before I go any further, let me remind you that my mother and her dog, Penny, live in a small house in my front pasture.  She raises a little flock of chickens, and from time to time she shares eggs with my dogs. Apparently she also shares her cell phone with my Livestock Guardian Dog:

Title:  grandma says i can have all the eggs i want

dear mum,

today i herd a grate commotion at grandma's and montoya running into the barn. when i got to the fence, the chickens was under the ramp screaming, penny and grandma was headed across the pasture with penny barking and grandma screaming like a wild woman, and pore george was running toward grandmas as fast as her legs would carry her . . . but not as fast as the chicken hawk was closing in on george. well, i let out a huge woof woof (huge is the only kind of woof woof i have) and just as the hawk was about to pick up george, he decided he would rather not have chicken for dinner if he had to face me. he was about 3 feet from poor george when he lifted off and disappeared behind the barn.  grandma says i'm a good chicken dog and i can have ALL THE EGGS I WANT!

call grandma tomorrow and let her know when i can have my eggs

luv

the brier

For more on Briar and George, read: "I will name him George"

Our slice of America is represented each year by the Small Town Parade.  Nothing quite stirs the spirit like a home town celebration.  Other Half grew up here.

 He spent a good deal of time hopping off the wagon to shake hands with folks in the crowd. (He also does this in the grocery store which makes shopping with him difficult . . . I'm just saying . . .)

Since Ona's feet weren't yet "road-worthy" for the parade, Doug & Debbie, of Cornerstone Stables, graciously invited us to climb in their wagon. Debbie also grew up in this little town, so while she and Other Half reminisced about childhood memories and places gone by, Doug and I could only listen to them and smile. 

Parades always involve a great deal of waiting in the staging area. It's a good time to catch up with old friends. . .

  . . . and take pictures of each other!

  After a long wait it was time to roll to the start of the route. 

 Chase & Chazz were our Picture Perfect Percherons for the parade!  

We had a Pug in a sundress riding shotgun . . .      

  . . . a Yorkie in the middle!

                     . . . with Border Collie and Other Half hanging off the back of the wagon!

Let the parade begin!

I love to watch the kids stare in wonder at the horses!

Parades are all about the kids . . .

Little kids . . .

. . . and Big Kids

You just gotta love a parade.  I am so thankful that I live in a small town.  I am so thankful that I live in America.

Our little town had a parade today. This is a rural community, so tractors and horses were a big part of the parade. We had planned to drive our draft pony, Ona, but she'd had ouchy feet in the weeks leading up to the event, so we decided not to push it.  Naturally, shortly after we decided against it, she started galloping in the pasture the following weekend.  (Fat Chick is getting hitched to the cart and starts lessons again TOMORROW!)   

So because we couldn't drive our own horse in the parade, Doug & Debbie of Cornerstone Stables, graciously invited Other Half, Border Collie, and me to climb in their wagon for the party.  We had a blast.  I love a small town parade.  My favorite part is watching the faces of the kids as they stare at the horses. I took loads of photos which I'll share as soon as I get a chance to edit 270 over-exposed pictures! 

But if I had to sum up the parade, and our small town, in just one photograph it would be this one . . .

As I confessed earlier this week in Lazy? , I am a Lazy Person, who is more than willing to train a Border Collie to be my most willing and able servant. This is a great deal of fun for both me and Border Collie.  Since she recently got a bit overexuberant and pulled one of the gates off its hinges (while she was repeatedly slamming it shut during a photoshoot to demonstrate what a wonderful help a dog is to Lazy People!), I decided to indulge Other Half in his desire to finally have a dog who would "Get him a beer!"

Lily loves training of any sort.  She trains me as much as I train her. It's really more of a jam session than a dog training session, as anything with Lily always involves the free exchange of ideas on both sides.  So last night at 1 AM, we demonstrated to Other Half our progress in the "Get me a beer" trick. (then I told him that we broke the gate!)  "WHAT?!!!"

This past week we have been learning the skill of opening the refrigerator,  (very easy) and a separate skill of picking up a cold drink in a coozie (very hard).  This is what happens when you give a cold Dr Pepper to a 1 1/2 year old Border Collie:

 Since this didn't happen until she had retrieved it several times, it was "well shaken."  Thus, we had Dr Pepper spewing all over a $700 Lazy Boy and a confused but delighted Border Collie.

I decided to table this part of the trick until we'd purchased a sturdier coozie.

BUT . . . there was still another step we could work on - Reach in the refrigerator and grab a desired object!

For this task I employed the skills of Lily's best friend, Chuck!    (Chuck lays around and smiles.)

 (Please do not tell my mother that I'm keeping a slobbery dog toy in my refrigerator.  Yes, this is only one of the many reasons why we rarely entertain in our home.)

So last night while Other Half took pictures for you, Lily and I demonstrated her progress:

"Lily, open the fridge, and get Chuck!"

  "Hello Lily!"

  Mission Accomplished!

Because Lily is a Border Collie with OCD, this trick can be done at least 50 times in a row, or until she rips the refrigerator door off the hinges, whichever comes first.

  "I didn't do this!"

 "Seriously. Ona did it. Yeah. Ona did it when she was scratchin' her big butt. Look! There are even blond tail hairs stuck in the wood. Look!"

 "Are you lookin'?"

"Ruffy, you have blond tail hairs too . . . "

 "Somebuddy call my lawyer!!! I want DNA testin' done! I want my lawyer!"

 The Work Dog

The After-Work Dog    

After his shift Other Half likes to stop and pick up a bacon sandwich for breakfast.  The cook at the gas station always packs that sandwich tight with bacon.  Since we have eight (8!!!) dogs, Other Half cannot share his bacon sandwich with all eight of them.  Soooooo . . .  there is only one chosen Bacon Hound.

Bloodhound is old, and blind, and stinky, and her tumors have tumors, but her Super Sniffer still works great!  And it never fails to rouse her from a deep sleep each morning when it detects the odor of bacon wafting through the house.

 "Do I smell bacon?"

 "Why yes!  Yes!  I do smell bacon!  Bacon, please!!!"

 "Is there more bacon?"

   "Yes!  Yes, there is!  More bacon, please!"

(Note the gawdawful talons that she calls toenails. Those suckers need to be trimmed.  That'll be a trip to Disney World for everyone . . .)

 "No more bacon?  What else you got up there?"

  "That'll do."

 Yes, Bloodhound is old, blind, stinky, and on her last leg, but she definitely knows how to work it to her advantage.

My Mom used to tell me "Give the hardest job to the laziest person, and he'll find the easiest way to do it!"

That . . . is the God's Honest Truth!  I am lazy. That's why I like smart dogs.  I'm a lazy dog trainer. Instead of pouring time into training dogs that I have to beg for attention, I prefer dogs that Live To Learn. The down side to this is that high-drive dogs are hard to live with if they don't have jobs.  The upside is that you are only limited by your own imagination.  Since I am a lazy person, and Border Collie is a high-drive dog, I can sit around and ruminate on ways that she can make my life easier. 

For instance, when I let the sheep out or put them in, it's so nice to have someone close the gate behind them.  (I'd prefer that Someone not be me.) This job actually began last winter when a certain lazy person (Me!) didn't want to slop through the mud to close the gate and decided that it was much easier to send a loyal servant (Border Collie!) through the mud to close the gate.

  Sheep file through gate.

 (This is a muddy mess in winter.)

 "Lily, would you get the gate?"

 Border Collie salutes and races off.

 If a Lazy Person has a rope tied to the gate . . .  and a magnet on the pole, said Lazy Person does not have to walk through the mud to close the gate.

 If they have a willing farm hand . . .

 . . . who enjoys closing the gate!

Disclaimer: this is a great way to reduce work for the Lazy Person, BUT . . . if you are doing a quick photo shot to demonstrate how a dog closing a gate can reduce your work, and IF that dog really gets into slamming the gate over and over and over, you MIGHT just pull the gate off the hinges and actually make more work for your Other Half . . . (I'm just saying . . .)

Sidenote: It helps sooth things over if the same dog is learning how to open the refrigerator and get your Other Half a beer.  She has the refrigerator opening down pat, now we just have to put a can in a coozie and teach her to retrieve that can, then close the door to the fridge.  It's coming along nicely and Other Half is happy with her progress.   (Good thing, cuz I haven't told him about that gate yet.)