Farm Fresh Blog

I was sweeping the floor yesterday when I spotted this:

  EEEEKKKKK!!!!!  When you're moving quickly and the room is dark, this looks like a giant spider!  (shudder)

Then I remembered this:

  Rugback sheep

When I sheared the rugbacks, I tossed the rugs on the floor in my study. Every time Border Collie gets into my office, she picks a little bit of the rug off and carries it around like a toy. 

Satisfied that this monstrous "spider" was a actually a stray piece of stringy wool, I reached down to pick it up. But something, . . . Something . . .  made me pause.  Thomas Magnum on Magnum P.I. used to call it his "little voice."  Well just as I was about to snatch up that piece of wool, my little voice of caution screamed, "Wait! Turn on the light first!"

So I did.

                                                     Oh . . . My. . . Gosh . . . 

That does NOT look like a piece of stringy wool!  It looks like a giant crunchy spider!

It IS!  IT IS!!!!  It is a giant spider!!!!  And a little one too!  and some dog hair . . . .  .  (Please ignore the dog hair.)  I almost picked this up with my bare fingers!!!!  The very thought of it made me shudder and do the "spider shuffle."   This is a move whereby the shudder starts at the tip of your fingers and like a giant wave it moves up your arm to your shoulder where you then begin flicking your hands and dancing in place saying "Eeeewwwwww! 

You are welcome for that mental picture.  Have a nice day.

The moral of this story is . . .  turn on the lights when you sweep!

One of my readers (Peg!) asked me if Penny and Ice were the same dog.  She went on to point out that since most of the dogs have stage names it can be a little confusing trying to keep everyone apart.  I realized immediately that SHE WAS RIGHT!!!!

So the first thing I did was fire off an answer to her that "No", Penny and Ice are not the same dog.  They are both Kona's sisters, but Ice is his littermate.  Kona and Ice are from a repeat breeding of Penny's litter.  The breeder liked Penny's litter so much that she repeated the breeding and got another nice working litter.  My mother had three old dogs die within a year apart, leaving her dog-less (shudder!), so Kona's breeder sent her Penny.  Penny's owner had died and Penny needed a loving home.  It was a match made in Heaven.

  This is one of my favorite pics of these two.  What a yard-workin' team!  (Union Mandated LoveFest Break!!!)

I also put some thought into the problem that many newer readers probably need a playlist to figure out our Cast Of Characters, it would help if I actually gave readers a "Cast of Characters!"

So I did!  In the About Us sections I just included photos and names.  I'll add to it later, but I hit the main cast.  Go have a peek and let me know what you think!

Oh dear . . . Deb just wrote to inform me that I needed to add the horses to our Cast Of Characters.  I'll start adding them . . .

If you have livestock of any kind, one of the most important tasks is getting hay.  Unlike square bales which have to be picked up out of the field and immediately stacked in a protective barn, large round bales can stay outside.  The rain rolls off the top and down the sides.  The exposed hay provides sort of a protective thatch covering for the good hay inside.

  See?

It looks yucky but underneath all that straw yuck is nutritious yum!

Yesterday we had to haul round bales.  Because we need to go down a county road, Border Collie and I followed behind in the Mule to supervise and provide highway assistance.  (jumper cables in case ancient antique Ford tractor dies!)

 So we loaded up and down the road we went!

  Few things stir the heart of country people like hay in the field. Note the thunderheads forming in the sky.  Not only was the sun going down quickly, but the storm clouds were brewing.

  Storm is coming!

There wasn't much for Lily and I to do . . .   

except follow and make sure the traffic didn't run over the tractor.  I'm not sure what we were supposed to do if the traffic ran over us . . .

  The storm passed us by . . .

 . . . but we couldn't escape the setting sun.  

And THIS is why I didn't get my yard mowed or my house cleaned last night!  I finally got the yard mowed this morning. Now I must tackle the house.  I have an air conditioning repair man coming over this afternoon, and my living room still smells like a Bloodhound.  (for those of you who aren't familiar with that odor, it is a fragrace best left outside, but alas, it is hot, and she is old . . . so we make sacrifices.)

   I had a reader write me yesterday to ask about Ice.  Janie writes,  "... what is Ice's story? I know she is Kona's sister, but is she a retired police dog as well?"

Well Janie, yes and no. Yes, she is a former narcotics dog, but no, she isn't one of our retired dogs.  Her story goes like this:

When Kona was four months old, I took him to a Cadaver Dog seminar.  The instructors giving the seminar were so impressed with him that they asked about getting a puppy from that litter.  There was only one puppy left - a shy, black female. So they got her, and they turned her into a Narcotics dog. Unfortunately she was a timid soul and narcotics scenes tend to be chaotic.  They are in strange places with strange people.  Ice couldn't handle it.  The only thing they could do with her reliably was locker checks in schools - same environment, no chaos.

These people had other working dogs, and Ice's limitations soon had her shuffled to guard dog status in the back yard.  Unfortunately she took this job seriously.  Their home bordered a hiking trail.  Soon joggers were complaining to authorities about "the black wolf."

So they called me and asked if I knew someone who may be interested in giving Ice a Forever Home.  At the time, I just had Kona, (Ice's littermate), and Alice the Bloodhound who was already infirm.  Alice was not in the least bit interested in entertaining and young and virile Kona.  So I agreed to take Ice.  Her only job would be as her brother's friend and playmate. They hit it off immediately and I spent many hours sitting in my hammock with a glass of wine after work while I watched two Belgians play WWF at my feet.  And she remained his best friend until the day he died. 

At first she was lost without her brother.  She's always clingy, but she became desperately so.  In time, she has loosened up a bit.  In fact, she has even managed to rise to the top and has claimed her brother's throne as Top Dog in the pack.  Surprisingly, Lily the Border Collie (who is meaner) and Briar the Livestock Guardian Dog (who is bigger) still bow to Ice's authority.  I find it amusing that the two dogs most concerned with taking control of the pack are Ice and Ranger the Blue Heeler.  Both dogs are gentle spooks, but they have decided that "someone" has to lead the pack so "they" might as well step up and take the helm. Ice is a better candidate than Ranger because he tends to "shoot first, and ask questions later." He means well, but he views everyone as "the bad man" until proven otherwise.  This includes Grandma, Son, and Other Half if he comes through the wrong door.  (Blue Heeler really is nuttier than a fruitcake!)  Kona kept Ranger from making some stupid decisions. Ice doesn't have that kind of control over Ranger. 

So to answer your question, Ice hasn't done anything resembling real police work since she came to live here.  And even though she no longer has a real job here, she will always have a real home here.  She is my black wolf, my Florence Nightingale, my egg bandit . . .   

Egg Mystery

A Sister

Ice and Kona play in the morning dew (Nov 2009)

Kona died of kidney failure eight short months later. I never had a day's regret about bringing Ice into our home. They were littermates, they were best friends.

Many of us will take a moment today to remember where we were on that fateful morning.

I was off-duty.  I had called the office and no one answered the phone.  Since police work is a 24/7 job, I found this disturbing and called the cell phone of a friend who worked dayshift. She told me that everyone was clustered in front of the television sets.  I flipped on my television - and watched the tower fall - and cried.

Then I drove to work.  The air space above the city was clear except for the fighter jets that zoomed above to protect us.  I shall never forget the image of those jets over the skyline.

I got the answer to the "Why me, Lord" question yesterday. Sometimes God puts Little Angels in your path so that you can help them along the journey to where they belong.  I didn't need a kitten, but I never overlook the fact that at a very dark time, God sent me four little blessings that brightened my life.  (read: The Littlest Angel )

Initially I wanted to find this kitten a home, any home, as long as it wasn't with me.  Given a little bit of time to think though, and I remembered what a ray of sunshine a kitten can bring. And I knew someone who needed some sunshine in her life.

My Mom's dog is dying of cancer.  She is young.  Ironically she is The Enforcer's sister. Her cancer popped up shortly after his kidney failure. Every day Mom is faced with the prospect of losing her beloved Penny as she watches the tumor grow. It sucks. I know what she's going through. I faced it each day during Kona's kidney failure. 

But that's where a little ray of sunshine comes in . . .

   It is impossible not to smile when you hear her purr with her little motorboat engine . . and feel her claws kneading bread.

 and smell her butterfly kisses!                    

 Brother is still young and likes to play.

 And now he has a little friend!     

So when your spirits are looking low . . . .

  Never overlook the charm . . . .

 . . . of a Homicidal . . 

Psycho . . .    

. . . Jungle Cat!   

(I think Mom has decided to name her "Blossom.")

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"