Let me tell you what transpired from Tuesday night to Wednesday night.
Back story first: for 3 weeks, the manager of the neighboring ranch has been chasing down 20 of his errant cows on our property. I've been his side kick. The rogue cows knocked on of my bee hives over and I'm eager for them to get back home too. We're down to 2 feral bovines.
He rides over with 2 cutting horses on Tuesday at 5:30. I get to ride with a genuine vaquero. We track the fresher hoof prints for over an hour. He has the lasso, I'm told my horse will know what to do when we encounter the cows. Glad one of us does. We zig zag everywhere, gallop my heart out, but see no cows.
Then back to my evening project: roof replacement on the 1954 Kropf camper.
I have only 2 weeks left before Summer semester starts and all projects go on hiatus again.
66 year old screws and decades of roofing compound make removing each single screw a tedious task.
Plod on until dusk.
Wednesday morning, I start early and combine doing chores at the houses and the barn with running the pointers. On our way to the Lakehouse, Dax takes an unscheduled detour to chase deer through the swamp.
If it weren't for the GPS collars, I'd have lost Captain Special long ago.
I lost a few minutes, otherwise, I'm cruising along, ticking tasks off my work list...
Until:
Peter, realizing Dax, Micah and I had tip toed away from the barn without him, attempts to follow us. My overweight, 12 year old, hip dysplasia, crooked legged arthritic dog decides he isn't going to be abandoned.
I drag Peter off his beloved couch 3-4 times a day for mandatory walkies totaling 1 mile max. That's all his severely twisted left front leg can manage.
The poor guy must have tracked us 4 miles. He was gone for 2 hours. I drove around in vain looking for him. He returns to the barn on his own in bad shape.
He can't get up. Barely walk. I'm glad I've been working out again. He's a hefty 80 lb package to carry around.
The heart of a lion. That's the definition of loyalty.
I get him doped up on pain meds and tuck him in bed, returning to my day's work. Which included tracking down a grill in town. Out of stock everywhere, I find the right grill by 5:45 PM at the 3rd third hardware store I hit. Never give up.
Back home, I feed the chickens an discover an egg thief.
Caught and relocated.
He's a mile away now, I'll probably see him again in a few days!
And back to camper duty until dusk.
Almost to the end of the last side.
Perhaps a little overzealous. Just like Peter.
Ending the evening sharing my roasted chicken with root vegetables with my loyal four legged friends.
