Jurassic Park

I live in Jurassic Park. 
The wildlife abounds here.  I cherish the biodiversity and all its inhabitants, except one group: the venomous snakes.
Last month, I had the mother of all cottonmouths come after me, I ended up shooting 3 at once.
This week, Micah and Dax were almost bitten by another cottonmouth.  That one was dispatched as well... causing Micah to bolt back to the barn without us.  He must've run a sub-3 minute mile, took me 20 minutes on my bicycle to catch up with him.

At this rate, I'm running low on ammo.
Dawn Friday morning, I'm on the trails with the dogs.  Up ahead, I hear squalloring and see its source: Micah. He's holding his front paw up and refuses to bear weight on it. I can make out a couple drops of blood, but nothing else.
I try to leave him to run home for the truck, but as I round the corner, he protests loudly.
It's almost a mile back to the house, I try to coax him to walk.  Negatory.
Never leave a man behind:  Micah, my 85 lb baby gets carried home.  Mostly fireman carry, but any which way I could.

Google pic

Our Dr. B answered the mayday call.

Micah's paw starts to swell.

He refuses to eat and lays in bed whimpering.
X-rays show nothing is broken, we're dealing with a snake bite.  
"You mean I carried you a mile and your leg isn't even broken?"

"Oops, sorry, Mummy".
These snakes must be stopped.  Axel has been dealing with non resolved swelling of his back leg for over 2 weeks.  Dr. B X-rayed, nothing amiss there either.  Probably another snake bite.

I miss Canadian winters... you don't have these problems when it's 10 below.
Between the vet and medical bills for the day, I think we'll stay indoors for a while!
Yes, medical...I pulled something in my back carrying fatso. While I was picking up tires in town, I ducked into an urgent care clinic.  Turns out I tore some rib cartilage.

  And some stitches out of my hand.
By evening, someone was feeling better, but still clingy.  I'm trying to do my homework, perched on 1" of my chair because Micah is taking up my entire desk chair.

"Sorry it hurts to breath, Mummy.  Might wanna start going back to the gym, OK?".
Instead of putting Micah on a diet or pumping iron, I did what any smart old lady would do:  I bought a portable sling for the next time.  I already carry 4 lbs of their stuff in my running pack, what's another 1/2 lb!
https://youtu.be/hlZWXEop-Jk
Blessed be creative people.

Uncle Henry

After the most valiant 3 year battle with kidney failure, we conceded defeat. 

Last month, our ancient 33 year old Henry's creatinine values crept into unsavory territory.  He began forsaking pasture strolls for standing in his stall and staring at the wall.  Bouts of inappetence grew more frequent.  Most compassionate gesture was to say goodbye before the bad days outnumbered the good. Plans were made a week in advance.  Nothing leaves you feeling like a treacherous wench when you know what's in store for someone you love.

Two someones for that matter.  Didn't know if we'd need two graves:  one for Henry and one for Roscoe.  

Henry is Roscoe's world.  
Wherever Henry is, Roscoe is at his side. I've already tried pairing him with other horses, he's not interested.  Henry is his everything.  

Sharing a jar of applesauce.

One last hour long massage.
He left this world surrounded by those who loved him. 
Until we meet again, my friend, until we meet again.