Friday, May 29, 2015

Educating a Farm Dog

It's been a couple of weeks since a stray dog was plucked from a desperate situation.
I found Garrett living under a dock, surviving off frogs.
Day 1 out of Hell.
Day 2 off to the vet's for a makeover, including neutering.  Ouch!
Day 3:
He's a clever boy.  Housebreaking was a cinch.  He doesn't chew, nor bark.  He's still trying to get the hang of sleeping in a bed-- he fell out again last night.
He'll happily ride the four wheeler.
But, prefers the mule:
Getting a hang of riding in a vehicle was tricky.  Until he figured out that he couldn't jump out of the windshield, I was a very distracted driver.  Now, if he could only face forward!
Once per day, he's allowed to follow Cole, Pete and I to the horse pasture.  I ride my bicycle and tote buckets in my wagon.
He has the heart of a lion.  He tries so hard to keep up, but his emaciated frame is only beginning to fill out again.  Cole zooms past us at Mach 2, Pete has this quaint donkey trot and poor Garrett's legs look like wet noodles.  
Spaghetti Legs:
His first report card has all A+'s.  Our new farm dog fits right in here.
I recognize despair when I see it, but I always seek for a fire inside, a desire to live, even if it's down to a teeny flame.  It's said that you shouldn't project human emotions onto animals.  Whoever said that must have never looked into a creature's eyes and seen its soul.  When I was in college, I was beyond broke.  Scavenging in the dorm hall kitchen trash for stale bread was customary.  Slices of bread were coated in packets of ketchup or mustard, then I create an imaginary ham sandwich. The next bite could be turkey.  That's how I forced myself to choke down moldy bread and mustard.  I swore that I'd never be that desperate ever again.  When I look at my animals, I make them that same promise:  You'll never go hungry-- ever.
Garrett will never have to eat frogs again.  This morning, he had rabbit over his kibbles.  He has found his forever home.

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Catering, anyone?

What happens when you give one crazy Canuck carte blanche over a catered event?
She has too much fun.
One rented camouflage tuxedo... Went well with my cottage crafted fishing awards:
Local driftwood to offset thrift store cups.  Chic, non?

Rolled out my smoker and cooked bourbon glazed chickens and spice rubbed pork loin.

Means were taken to sneak more nutrition into each meal. Organic everything...
Whole wheat bread:
Four bananas hidden in the chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.  Beets in the chocolate cake and icing.
OK, so there's nothing healthy about Nanaimo bars, but who the heck cares?
My girls tried their best to keep up with demand, but after three meals a day for a few days, I had to buy some eggs.
Amidst all the cooking and cleaning, I had a new  charges:
Seven horses and one clingy stray dog:
Not to mention the daily hikes to collect hay for the my livestock.  My last 1000 lb bale of hay, of it's own volition, went careening down into the ravine behind my house.  No accessing it from above.
Cole, equally stupefied as to the distance it traveled before coming to rest in the middle of the woods.
Fearless leader following my well beaten path to the bale.
Logistics:  drive four wheeler and wagon to entry point down on the trail, push wheelbarrow into the woods, unroll hay from bale, dump into wagon, repeat numerous times and twice a day.
FYI  new bales have been better secured.  I can find more enjoyable ways to get exercise!

Sunday, May 10, 2015

My Cup Overfloweth

Life is perfect.  The rough patches are put there only to make you truly appreciate your life when you've emerged from the other side.  
I'm living out the dream life I'd imagined when I was 15. I'm on a gorgeous farm with my 3 horses, 1 ox, 1 dairy cow, 29 chickens and 1 dog with suicidal tendencies.  Yes, I speak of the Almighty Cole.  
He's decided that big boys don't ride on Mommy's lap on the four wheeler...that he's capable of running ahead.  The problem is that he out runs it and doesn't have the sense to stop.  This past week, I searched for him for an hour and a half.  By the time I found him, I was too emotionally spent to do more then tell him to get in the house.

On Saturday, he out shone himself.  Demonstrating his lack of sense-- for all to see.  I was busy trying to wrangle a new found stray dog at one end of the lake, while Cole was attempting suicide by crossing the widest portion of the lake.  
Last Fall, my team of guardian angels deemed that I needed an angel, in house.  They sent Davis.
A right hand man who knows how to work smart and how to lifeguard.  The latter being critical for Cole.  Davis recognized that Cole had run out of steam and was in danger.  He ditched his phone, wallet and shoes and went in after the submerging idiot.  
I gained a new starving dog full of ticks and scabs and almost lost my favorite within 15 minutes.  Sensory overload Saturday. 
The new farm dog is named Garrett.  No, I don't like typical names for pets.
He's in isolation until he's been vetted.  After that he'll fit right in.  He's #6 dog that is in my charge this weekend.
#1 Cole.
#2 Pete
#3 & 4 Katie and Bruce.
#5 Sadie.
And have I mentioned 7 new horses in my charge?  The former stable hand vacated her post last week and guess who lunged into her shoes?  The Lucky One, that's who!  Don't know how I'll find the time to take that job on too-- but don't care. 
Never quit, always work towards your goals.  As my dad says:  funny how the harder you work, the luckier you get.