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.

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!

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.  

Going to the Dogs

A dog is indeed man's best friend.  And I have a large circle of friends:

Pete, the farm dog, has declared half my house as his.

Bruce and Katie are here for a week. Bruce, after his Summer fleecing:

Cole with Maggie, honing their cat and squirrel hunting skills:

But, it's not all about the dogs.  We have a couple dozen new chickens too.

After spending the first two weeks of their lives in my bath tub with heat lamps, the chicks were moved into their new hoop house.  One that was surprisingly easy to build...which means that I may make more, perhaps for ducks.
Other new, unplanned additions to the farm:

4 new tires on Monday because of a beer bottle, in Auburn, that sliced open this tire.  Reason #437 why I hate going to town now.  I'd much rather stay on the farm, work on the trails, the landscaping, bake breads

and make Cole homemade meatloaves.

Alas, one must venture away from the farm...occasionally.  Today is my day off and I must drag myself away to begin cardiac rehab at a local gym.  I don't wanna go ride their stupid stationary bicycle.  One hour away won't kill me.  

Hole Hearted

Oops, did it again!  Just because the will power is there, doesn't mean the body can follow. Mother Nature has her own way to apply the brakes.  Quite unpleasantly at times.

I love to work, it's almost an obsession.  After months of burning the midnight oil around the new farm, the coup de grace was to work third shift cleaning in Auburn during Spring Break.  Brilliant, non?  My heart didn't think so.  By Monday morning, my chest pains were radiating down my arms, nausea and dizziness were my friends.  I was actually concerned enough to go to the Urgent Care clinic, as a precaution.  The good doctor informed me that I had all the symptoms of an impending heart attack.  Oops.  His EKG results lead him to get me to a cardiologist that day.  Well, there goes all the pretty extra money I earned the previous week!
By the time I was seen at the cardiologist, I'd had a day of cat napping and I felt better.  Alas, they still wouldn't let me go home:(   All the expensive poking and prodding revealed an Atrial Septal Defect: a hole between the two chambers of my heart.  There from birth.  Why was this never caught during all the cardiac profiles I've had to have in the past 8 years?  
A congenital disorder that usually closes in childhood.  Only about 10% carry it through into adulthood.  That makes me special!  Not short bus  special, thank you very much.

After the age of 40, that's when problems start arising.  Go figure:  now I know why my ankles get fat by the end of the day.  Unfortunately, it doesn't explain why I'm always looking for my keys and reading glasses.
It was expressed to me that ultras and marathons were no longer permitted.  Getting by with 4 hours of sleep at night was also a no-no.  Looks like my Evil Knievel days are over.  I spent a week grieving for the loss of the lifestyle I love so much.  Once the pity party was over, I addressed myself to finding a new obsession.  Gardening has always been a close #2, why not bump it up to #1?
With an acre to fill, I've been busy ordering from all my favorite sources.
Rare Seeds has the most beautiful seed packets:

Gilbert Wild sent me a batch more daylilies:

My bedside book is a dangerous one:

300 page compendium about irises.  Oh yeah, my wish list doth groweth!
A couple weeks out from that Black Monday, I'm doing much better.  Instead of falling asleep all over the place, I'm making it through a full work day.  OK, so I'm in bed by 6 or 7 PM:

Cole and the farm dog, Pete, don't seem to mind going to bed before the sun goes down!
Thankfully, I have the best docking station:  the farm.  I'm recharged at about 50% right now...baby steps.  
I'm wholeheartedly (get it?) taking it easy.  No more pushing the wheel barrow for a while.

Maybe Evil Knievel will ride again!

Disobey Fear

This past Fall my relations with my previous landlord became strained, to put it mildly. With the brood I have, it isn't easy to pull up anchor and move. I searched in vain all around Auburn for a little bit of acreage. What I found instead was almost an hour outside of Auburn:  a house on a large estate that came with a job.  
I'd been in Auburn, running my cleaning service for 24 years...change is frightening. The key is to disobey fear and take a chance.
"Change is the law of life.  And those who look to the past are certain to miss the future."  John F Kennedy

Here's a montage documenting The Move From Hell:

Mom, Davis, Jason and Jonathan deserve the highest accolades for all their help during the most stressful, worst month ever.
So, it appears that I now live in Heaven.  Pinch me.  The situation here is polar opposite to the last four year deal.  Let's start with the garden...

From a tiny vegetable garden where I had to draw water up from a well by hand to an acre on which I can plant whatever I want and irrigate with lake water.  This is the tip of the iceberg. 
Granted, my new house was in really bad shape.  I did some repair work and all the painting, but Joe's crew of workers tore through here and fixed every plumbing leak, replaced every rotten board (think entire bathrooms), sorted electrical problems, redid the skirting, the list goes on.  All of it paid for by my new employer/benefactor/fellow animal lover.  In the past rental, too often, I had to do the work myself and pay for the materials.  
I came home one day to find my front porch was gone. 

Within a week, a new one was in its place.  Do pinch me!

This is the result of all the house mending:

Cole relaxing in his new living room.

...with fireplace.

And plenty of wall space for all my beloved books.

Soothing moss green bedroom.

Cheery blue guest bedroom.  The only guest bedroom because the other has become my tack and feed room:

A big kitchen too.

A screened in back porch has become my workout room.

That's just the house.  Let me tell you about the job, starting with an example of my daily commute:

Traffic report on Wood Duck Way:  nil.
Every day is different and with so much to do, there's no chance Cole and I will ever get bored.  You read correctly, I take Cole to work with me most days. Side by side with my best friend, out on the farm -- this really is heaven!