Preparedness

It all started a couple of weeks ago:  the hoarding.

Watching Italy shutter its country ramped up my desire to stock up 2 months supply of all critter food.  

With supply lines worldwide damaged, I'm guessing production of Garrett's prescription dog food may be limited in the near future.  Rather safe than sorry.

Stocked up on all veterinary prescriptions too.
I was all done before the madness hit last Friday.  Maybe I should've thought of toilet paper.  But, I was busy thinking of my furkids.

Stay safe y'all.

Ode to an Unsung Hero

I never talk about her. 
She toils tirelessly.  
She's 17 years old and has 277,000 miles.
She's my company vehicle.
In the past, someone shot her.

In the past, someone used the tailgate as a guide to hook to a trailer.

In recent three years, I'd taken a democratic approach and left her to be used by anyone working on the farm who needed her.

Until a former employee tried to rip her rear end out.  I quickly retook possession of communal keys.  Funny how she hasn't needed to go to the mechanic's shop as often...hmmm.
Meet Boo.

Never had a vehicle lent to me for work before, some have tried to tell me she's ugly, but I love her.
Mondays are now my days off to study, but it was too pretty outside and Boo was still under a coat of mud from the monsoons.

Shampooed seats, scrubbed her behind the ears, went through half a bottle of Armor-All on all her trim and waxed over all the dents and scratches.
Boo-tiful!

Camping with Fifteen

All of us in Alabama are hoping the monsoons are behind us.

Droughts of last Summer that killed so many trees were chased by rainfall measured in feet.  One day, we're cutting dead pines from the drought, another day, cutting uprooted oaks from the saturated grounds.  A bipolar Mother Nature isn't a pretty picture.

The horses have gone through 80 bales more of shavings this month than the last because they've been kept up for their own good.  That's a lot of mucking.  And dispensing hay.  And refilling water buckets.  

And glamping in the barn office when the horses are in their stalls overnight. 

Apples and sugar peas are favored snacks around here.  We share.

To live without a dog is unthinkable.  I'd shrivel up and die.

Wacky Winter

I lost count of many inches of rain we've received this Winter.  Too much, is my answer.

Overload of rain, day after day.

The land can only hold so much.  Then dams begin to bust.

Where are the damned beavers when you need then.  Mayday, mayday!  
This breach in the dam went all the way through underground.

Three tractor and trailer loads of rock later.  All rocks hand placed.

Concrete hand mixed.

Had to work fast that weekend, only a day and a half of clear weather before the rain was to start again.

Brought the dogs down to show them what Mum had done.  Dax is in awe, the others are totally unimpressed. 

Even through the rain, I've tried to keep up with  their daily runs.  The trails are a soupy mess in some sections.

The look of "where did you get your driver's license!". 

Dax is like a five year old, mud is his milieu of choice. Every day...

It's a reward after a day at work.

When the weather is too foul...

...and we can't run.

All Hell breaks loose. High strung hunting dogs cooped up all day is a recipe for destruction.

Mostly this one.  Micah is still in puppy stage. He tries to be good, but it's so hard.
Sitting by the fire, like Garrett, isn't his bag.

And have I ever been using the fireplace because not only has it been rainy, but it has been bitterly cold.

Horse jackets all around.

Must keep those big babies warm and dry.

The pools of water in the pastures were turning their hooves into Jell-o, so I started keeping them up in their stalls day and night until their feet hardened up again.

Life with 1000 lb puppies.

Keeping these pooping machines in stalls equals a lot of work though.

Worth it.

Buckets of warm water dragged around every morning for offerings.

Equally worth it.  No one colicked, no one went hypothermic, no messed up hooves. 
I'm not satisfied with the concept of surviving.  That's what Neanderthals did.  Thriving is where it's at.  That's my goal.

Besides, if you think I'm nuts, then you ought to meet some of the company I keep.  My neighbor brought her horse in the house.  
End of story.

Uncle Henry

The persistent rain and cold has dampened everyone's spirits, but none more than my Uncle Henry.  At the age of 33, he's too old for all this climatic nonsense.  This past weekend, the Sun shone on us for the first time in eons.

And it felt good to be able to relax. Henry finally got to lay down for a rest.

Worried there was something wrong with Henry, I sat with him for 15 minutes.
Nothing wrong with him, only dreadfully tired.  Aren't we all.  

Keep sleeping, I got your back. 

February Monsoons

We're all sick of the relentless rain.  The fields are rice paddies, the roads washed out, the horse hypothermic from all the frigid rain. 

So, we've been holding them up in the barn, collecting mountains of manure--- because that's what horse do best.

Everywhere is flooding.

Mother Nature sure is pissed off.
But, we find ways to adapt and overcome:

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

My little 26 year old buddy, Axel, has a chronic eye condition.  We see his opthalmology specialist at Auburn University on a regular basis to keep him as symptom free as possible.

His current problem has been resolving nicely with the help of twice a day drops in his left eye.  He's an old pro at it, a good patient, putting up with fingers poked in his eye for two years now.
The other old timer at the farm, Henry, decided to poke himself in the eye and cause me to return to Auburn twice in one week.

Unlike Axel who basks in the 24 hour attention when he spends a week at the vet school undergoing treatment, good old Henry did not.

He decided to go on a hunger strike.  Back I went to the vet school. Which is probably a good thing because I have this wingnut at home who was having the grandest conniption fits because his buddy had been taken from him.

When Henry's pasture mate, Chance, died last year, Roscoe came to us to become Henry's new companion.  Roscoe takes his job a little too seriously.

Henry has taken a few trips to the vet school now, each time Roscoe goes full Monty on the theatrics.

Usually a horse settles down and goes back to grazing, especially since I'd put Cody in there with him to keep him occupied.  He didn't give a toss about Cody.  He kept pining for his Henry.
Returning with an empty trailer was heart wrenching for him.

At last, the apple of Roscoe's eye is back!

Love and loyalty, something we have a lot of here at the farm.  Peter helped raise Dax, he's his baby.  Angus and Axel are ALWAYS together, inseparable.  Micah can't stand his big brother Dax to be out of his sight.  Deeper and truer than a lot of interpersonal relationships.  Guaranteed.