Skeet shooting is challenging to a shooter, downright discouraging to a beginner.
Here's where I tried to help a few months ago by providing guests with larger targets. It was a stroke of genius if you ask me,
I suppose if you asked the innocent bystanders that day, it was less than brilliant. My goal was to shoot 5 gallon buckets high in the air with my Rodenator. Imagine the loft a bucket could get from an ignited blast of oxygen and propane! The first bucket narrowly missed my boss's truck and granddaughter. Feeling that I was failing at impressing my employers, I upped my game...
...and tried to blow myself up. We packed it in after this and went back to the drawing board.
Back in the Fall, I noticed Peter was reluctant to leave his perch on the couch. The luster had gone from his eyes.
This in spite of arthritis supplements, pain meds and anti-inflammatories, it felt like we were losing the war. That's when I placed a mayday call to the best canine physiotherapist: Liz.
Time to take action. Never go down without a fight.
Everyone loves Peter, we've all rallied to share the responsibility of taxiing him to Auburn three times a week for his 8 hour day at Physiotherapy Camp.
Peter's home away from home.
Waiting for Liz.
Some creative trimming for better access to his aching hips with the therapeutic oil. Does he mind acupuncture? Judging from how excited he is to meet PT Express drivers and how he rushes into the vet school, I think not.
He knows he's loved.
Here he is pulling Liz to the PT room.
Getting old ain't for sissies, but for the time being, we're back to winning some major battles against decrepitude. Peter is back to enjoying life.
And it's joyful to see.
Life is hard, but never give up.
Little thank you luncheon for some of Peter's Pit Crew. It does take a village.
My employers' dogs have been with us a week at the farm. If Maggie and Lucy thought these 8 days were going to be spent lounging on a couch, they stand corrected. After work Boonies runs, BBQing, joining Aunt Jamie, Dax and Micah on our days off heading to hills to hike, swimming lessons, kayaking... welcome to Farm Camp:
Two years ago, I began documenting my SUV's worrisome behavior. Two years of tedious videoing, photographing, record keeping, telephone conversations logged... all came to fruition May 7th.
I had begun a Better Business Bureau claim against the manufacturer with little hope of any compensation. Months passed, my case date was set, I burned midnight oil populating my evidence file with all my records. Overzealous record keeping payed off. They took one look at my evidence and we settled out of court. DAVID 1 : GOLIATH 0 I wish I could delight you with all the gory details, but terms of my settlement are that they shall remain confidential. Thank you to all my peeps who encouraged me to persevere and not give up. I drove Binky to drop her off at the dealership, wearing my 18 year old Walmart dress used to mark all my joyous celebrations. Like the first day, 8 years ago, that I brought home a new car...
To the day I divorced this one...
A day to savor my victory.
What better way then to stop by a local dairy, meet the local constabulary.
Bringing home adult libations, my version anyway! Party on, Garth!
Thanks to the exorcism performed by one puppy, I now have a Dax I adore.
All hail Micah.
The miracle puppy...
Who happens to be teething.
No better place for any of them to be then on my lap in the evenings while I'm trying to work on the computer.
I agree.
I love these boys.
Seeing as I only have one lap, turns must be taken.
"Mams, rub my back".
This is not the Dax of before. Thank you Micah for the entirely new dynamic in our home.
His methods are unconventional, but Micah has tamed the shrew.
Whatever it takes, every day, repeated over and over again.
So what if my bed stays made but momentarily.
Who cares if there's a major indoor reforestation project going on daily. Far better than the sacrificing of shoes, furniture, bedding, pillows, electrical cords (man, did Dax love demolishing cords)....
For every moment of progress, I am woefully reminded that Dax will always be Dax...
Genius caught his tongue on a barbed wire fence halfway through our run Saturday morning. This was our first run with him off leash. It was going so well, my little heart swelled with pride at his responsiveness to verbal commands and how close he ranged.
Our vet was quickly reached and convinced me his tongue was probably not going to become gangrenous and fall off. On the way back home, Dax scared up a snake that then confronted me. Not to worry, coachwhips are my favorite snakes. Real treat to see this one again. It lives in and around my ox pasture.
Little snippets of joy interspersed in the mayhem, that is life as Dax's keeper. By the way, he bit me twice when I tried to give him a Benadryl to quiet him down so he's stop obsessively licking the blood off his legs and a better bite when I put a dropperful of helichrysum oil on his tongue. I love my kid, amazing, isn't it? Addendum... I had packed paint in my backpack to paint fence posts for an hour in the Boonies while I was out running with Dax...meaning Micah was 'abandoned' for the first time without Dax at home. He demolished two pairs of my shoes in protest. I give up.
The log that serves as turtle habitat on the farm lake had begun sinking. As many as a dozen map turtles use this log to sun themselves without fear of land predators... a sinking habitat was unacceptable.
Dax swam alongside. This was Micah's first time in a boat.
By pulling the Jesus Maneuver, he discovered in the process, that he cannot, in fact, walk on water.
Curiosity cured, Micah resumed being my lap dog.
Dax tired of swimming and climbed aboard. Always helpful having all 230 lbs of us in one corner of the peddleboat when I'm leaning over the side, hands plunged under the log tying off the foam insulation. In retrospect, it would've been easier, faster and I'd gotten just as wet if I'd swam over to the log.
Where would the fun in that have been? And y'all wonder why I don't go home after work... mayhem to be found and three of us on the scent of it!
Call it March Madness, this is what I did back on March 10th:
I made the fatal error of going to look at a litter of German Shorthair puppies.
Leading to acquisition of a 6 week old male.
This is Micah. Let the lovefest begin!
The older dogs remain unimpressed, but Dax took to him like a long lost brother.
Wherever Dax goes, there's a Micah.
And if he's not with Big Brother, he's with me.
This has been the best puppy EVER! Housebreaking took no time at all. He saw the inside of a crate once and we both had a meltdown, so he's been raised to be part of the pack, no crating.
Our first night, I didn't sleep at all, with each whimper, I ran him outside to pee. The next night, I woke us up every hour for potty breaks. By the end of two weeks, we were only getting up once a night for pee runs. By 8 weeks of age, he'd figured out the doggy door and would go out by himself like a grown boy. The easiest puppy... hence why baptized: the Anti-Dax.
Maybe this is my reward for having raised the son of Satan without smiting him. I love Dax now, not as a puppy. I remember confiding in my vet that I "hated my puppy".
This little cherub: addictive!
He's won Dax's heart too. They are inseparable.
It's hard not to want to spread the joy of this bundle of cuddles with everyone!
Tugging at his grandpa's heartstrings...
Sleeping in my friend Helene's arms for an hour.
The darling at the vet school.
At any age, Dax tried to clothesline, topple, trip, nip innocent bystanders in stores...not Micah. 7 weeks old and sitting pretty in Home Depot.
I can take him anywhere...sleeping, not chasing our host's cat.
Awesome traveler by 7 weeks:
Plus, he's a real entertainer this one. Part of the pack.
Micah's arrival has totally transformed Dax's demeanor. He's tolerant in the extreme to all the puppy's biting and constant demand for his attention.
Dax has morphed from heathen to hero.
Micah is teaching me that with love, anything is possible.
Soon it will be Micah spooning Dax, he's put on 20 lbs in less than 2 months!
