Sleeping with the Enemy

 

What do you get when you combine a pile of tomato cages and one sleepy cat…

 

with one very confident chicken?

 

Julia Roberts in a chicken suit. 

 

Sorry, that sounded really funny in my head.  And if you chuckled, even a little, my sanity thanks you.

This depression has been kicking my ass and proving hard to beat.  But I’m picking up the camera more and the brain is starting to function again.  There are ideas whirling about between the ears again and there’s one major rescue project that I will definitely need some help on.  I’ll let you know more as I figure it out.  Meanwhile, I WILL blog more often!  Whether I have anything useful to say or not.  You may want to find another blog to read.

Little Charmer

 

Once again, I have to blog about Amigo.    Let me start by telling those of you that don’t follow us on Facebook that he is the smallest escape artist I’ve ever had.  Electric fence?  No problem!  He just ducks under it quick enough to not get jolted.  Lower the wire?  No problem!  He just lies down and wiggles his way under it.  Lower the fence even more?  No worries!  He just jumps between the top and bottom strand of electric without touching either.  Put up a third strand of electric in the middle?  Not a problem!  He just jumps all three strands.  I’ve wondered more than once if his daddy was a deer.

And his most favorite place to go when he gets out?  In with the main herd.

 

Whiskers really likes the little guy because she’s in season and she somehow thinks that he can scratch the itch that none of the geldings can.  Good luck with that, girl.

 

Sometimes he stays out in the yard with Junior and follows him wherever the he goes.  River can be calling from her paddock, but Amigo just ignores her as if he doesn’t need her anymore.  Once I found him sleeping in the sun next to Lucille by the pond – completely out of sight of River.  Neither one of them minded much and Lucille enjoyed the company.  He’s only six weeks old!  Little tyke should not be that independent yet!

His teenage angst and “rebel without a cause” attitude reminds me of another little twerp I used to know…

 

 

Opie!!  Opie is living large with his adopter, has run of the whole farm (since he ducks under fence as adeptly as Amigo), and likes to follow his adopter when she takes her other horse out for a ride.  What a lucky pony!

Siesta

 

The sun came out yesterday and it was 60 degrees, which was a nice switch from the cold and hail yesterday.  I’m sure I’ll wake up to snow tomorrow.  Thanks for the brief respite, Mother Nature!

But do you know what happens when the sun comes out and warms up the ground?

Naps.  Lots of naps. 

 

I have very lazy equines around here.  You’d think I worked them in the coal mines eight days a week the way they fold those long legs, crumple to the ground, and pass out without a care in the world.  Matilda went down especially hard today so those of you that felt the earth tremble, don’t worry.  It wasn’t an earthquake.

I have a pop quiz for you.  Who’s incredibly rotund belly is in the next picture?

 

If you guessed that to be the “mommy” belly of River, you would be correct.  Now run to the store and get yourself a gold star.  Or a beer if you need an excuse for one. 

See that little tuft of brown fur to the left of River’s ginormously large butt?

 

Why, why, WHY do they always have to open their lips a bit in a smile when they lay down??  It’s almost too adorable to stand!

 

River had her eyes shut, getting in some much needed REM sleep.  She didn’t even wake up when I let the dogs out and they took off around the yard barking and chasing each other.

 

While I was snapping away, Amigo woke up and gave me the same look that the GBH sometimes gives me when I wake him up too early.

 

Then he showed me more of his GBH impression…

 

… and went right back to sleep. 

Foals learn by imitating, but what I want to know is when the heck was Amigo in our bedroom??

Just a few pony pictures

 

I don’t think I’ve ever been clinically depressed in my life, but the past few months have seen a new side of me, a side I don’t think I like.  It’s been terribly difficult for me to find the energy to do anything except feed the horses.  When Amigo was born I had to force myself to get the camera and take some pictures of him.   I felt like I was far underwater, just trying to swim to the surface for air.  All I could concentrate on was flapping my arms in hopes of reaching the surface before I drowned.  I didn’t want to ride, take pictures, blog, start any seeds for the garden… none of the things that usually get me going this time of year held any interest for me.

This morning when I rolled my weary body out of bed I decided that enough was enough and took the camera with me when I fed.

Sky and Quill were very thin when we got home in February.  Their hips and backbones were sticking up under their thick winter coats and they were lethargic.

 

Being so young, they recovered quickly.  Quill still has a little weight to put on, but he’s starting another growth spurt right now and not only growing out, but also growing up again.

 

Had Tabby been fed properly this winter, she’d already be back to normal.  But when we got home, she didn’t look that much better than when we took her back from her adopters.  I’d still like to see another 150lbs on her.

 

I only wish they could all be like Dallas (except for the covered in mud part)!

 

Traveler is another one that didn’t lose much weight over the winter.  He was still plump and round when we got home.  Greedy little pony still thinks he needs all the grain in the world and runs me over at every feeding.  Good thing he’s cute and cuddly.

 

Ditto for Jewel.  That mare could stay fat just by looking at food. 

 

Molly was fat when she came back from her foster home, but quickly lost weight and became ribby when Gilbert refused to feed her because he said he didn’t like her.  She picked up weight quickly and is ready to start carting me down the trails whenever this weather warms up again. 

 

Now if this four day migraine would go away and spring would come back to town, I could be happy again. 

Amigo

 

This foal has more attitude than Riley, Huey, and Tootsie put together!

 

He’s the littlest ball of trouble I have ever met.

 

He follows the chickens around, thinks the dogs are the coolest playmates ever, and loves Heidi to death.

 

Being the awesome dog that Heidi is, she stands statue still while Amigo sniffs her,

 

chews on her, and tries to rear up and put his legs on her.  Sorry for not getting that picture, but I’m sure I’ll have ample opportunity next time!

 

The little guy thinks I’m swell, too.  It’s like catching fish with a worm… wiggle your finger at him and he’s there in a flash to suck on you.

 

But this worm is not going to be too happy when those front teeth finally start coming in!

I’ve been canning

No, really!  And I find that winter is the best time to can!  The added heat from the stove is welcome in the kitchen and life outside is dreary and slow, so it’s the best time to spend slaving over a (thankfully) hot stove canning.  The GBH got me started when I threw caution to the wind and sent him grocery shopping on his own.  He brought home about 60 packages of mushrooms from Aldi's again because they were on sale for 39 cents a package.  I truly apologize to anyone else that wanted mushrooms from the Aldi’s in Marietta that week.  I don’t think he left any stragglers behind.

To make matters worse, Jamie had a yard sale of donated items to help raise money for the county dog shelter.  We weren’t home for the yard sale and came home a week or so afterwards.  The leftovers had already been picked through several times over so it was with great enthusiasm (and several happy dances) that I found these babies, sitting lost and alone amongst the junk:




Go ahead and covet, I’ll understand. 

Once he had all the mushrooms canned, the thought occurred to me that maybe I should finally do something with all the frozen tomatoes from the last two years.  Since I wasn’t in a hurry I could take my time and do something new… something other than the usual pasta sauce.  I canned 8 pints of pizza sauce, 10 half pints of chicken wing sauce, and 12 quarts of plain tomato sauce.  We’ve already tried all three and love them!  When I opened a can of the tomato sauce I added roasted garlic, mushrooms, and frozen bell peppers from my 2009 garden.  Delish!  I’ve also gotten back into using the bread machine and have been living off of “french” bread pizza using the pizza sauce and bread heels from the bread machine loaves. 

Then the GBH was also given about 10 lbs of turnips.  Hmmm… what to do, what to do?  None of my canning books had any recipes for canning turnips so we made a trip to Borders for a new book (happy belated birthday to me).  The new book (Canning for a New Generation) had a pickled turnip recipe that the GBH declared to be the best turnip pickle ever.  He’s already polished off two pints and has demanded that I grow turnips this year just for use in that recipe. 

Now I’m looking for new things to can before the garden gets going and before the warm weather gets here and I dread spending time indoors!  I’m also feeling like these jars need to be on my Christmas list this year.  Beautiful!

Calypso

Thor and Xena have been gone long enough that I no longer cry when I think of them.  There’s just a small catch in my throat when I say their names.  We’ve come to believe that someone has shot them for whatever real or imagined crimes they may have committed.  It’s odd that the flyers and calls to the local shelters every week have been unsuccessful.  Hopefully, I’m wrong and someone is remaining quiet about their whereabouts simply because they love the dogs and have chosen to keep them. 

Anyways, on to Calypso.  A woman not far from us raises mules and this past winter while I was out driving with Glenn she emailed me and asked if I had any mules for adoption.  We started communicating on a regular basis and became email pals.  Shortly after we returned home and I told her about Thor and Xena, she emailed and said she had sold one of her puppies, but the woman no longer wanted her and could I please take her?  I was prepared to say no, but then the GBH saw the puppy pictures and I no longer had a say in the matter.

Please meet Calypso.  She’s a four month old Blue Heeler/Bull Dog cross and she’s smarter than me.




Heidi thinks Calypso is as much fun to play with (and chew on) as Xena.




I just want to call her Jabba.




She had been kept in a crate most of the time at her old home and had a big fat belly when we got her.  She had no muscling along her back and her little backbone stuck out.  It took a week of playing with our dogs and helping me around the farm for her to lose the belly and gain muscle.  I only wish it worked that fast for me!



While she will never replace Thor or Xena, we love her like crazy already and are glad she came in to our lives.


Even if she were as dumb as a box of rocks, she’s still adorable.

Baby #6

 

First, let me apologize for the lack of posts.  Besides running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I have not had much luck with internet access since being home.  That should start changing here shortly and I’ll be posting more often.  At least, that’s the plan.

 

This should be the last baby that will be born from the mares seized from Baracksville, WV last April.  River must have conceived either days before being seized or in the few days after when we were trying to catch everyone and get mares separated from stallions.  Amigo was born exactly 11 months from the day River was seized, on March 14th shortly after 1AM.  I had separated River from Lucille and Lucky about a week before, when her bag started filling up, but she was still right in front of the house and I could look out the window all night and keep an eye on her.

 

The GBH was home that night and was having trouble sleeping, so when he heard the horses screaming and going nuts, he grabbed a flashlight and our new puppy (she deserves her own post later), Calypso, and headed out the door to see if someone had gotten out or if that bobcat we had heard in the woods a few nights ago had made a return visit.  He and Calypso wandered around, but couldn’t find anything amiss.  He came back in, but Calypso stayed out, which is totally against her nature.  She is usually glued to us and goes wherever we go.  As soon as the GBH closed the door, Calypso started barking.  He went back out to find her standing in front of River’s foal, who had been born under the metal panels of River’s pen!   The poor little guy was about 12’ from River’s pen and was still soaking wet and attached to the umbilical and sack.  He couldn’t stand up yet, but had obviously tried since he had gotten himself so far away from River. 

We got the little guy back in with mom, dried him off, and I kept River close to the heater until he stopped shivering.   River has proven to be an excellent mother, but because her fat belly was hanging so low and her udder was so high and tight, the poor little guy had trouble nursing.  I tried milking her, but couldn’t get anything out.  Fortunately, a friend of mine raises Andalusian horses not far from our place and I knew she’d have a supply of colostrum since her foaling season starts in April.  Once he had some warm colostrum in his belly his energy level picked up and within another hour he had figured out how to turn his head to the side and practically upside down to nurse.

 

The friend with the colostrum is also the person who named the little tyke:  Amigo.  Too darned cute for words, right?

Finally, some pictures!

 

Apologies, but I haven’t had a lot of time to wander around taking pictures since being home.  Between running errands, trying to clean up the place, and getting horses groomed (probably for the first time all winter) and fed, I just haven’t had the time or energy to walk around with the camera.  However, today when Glenn and I got home from town, I found a scene that simply had to be captured.

 

An all male slumber party happening in the stud paddock.

The mud and filth on everyone just made me want to throw my brushes into the burn barrel and give up on the whole grooming thing.

 

But seriously, how cute are these two (dirt and all)?

 

The fact that Kincaid let me get so close for pictures while he was lying down was impressive enough.  He’s still skittish about certain things, and usually hops up if someone is within 50 feet of his snoozing spot.  Then to further impress me with his lackadaisical attitude, he did this.

 

The sun, it’s warm.  My belly, it’s full.  The hay, it’s comfy.  And I am simply too tired to care that you are that close.  I will smile for the camera, though.

 

I thought it was rude that all the larger horses laid down for a nap and left the littlest ones of the bunch to stand guard.

 

Or stuff his face, in Dagwood’s case.

Good night boys, have a fun sleeping in the hay.  Better you than me!

Honey, we’re home!

 

After Gilbert packed his crap and left without telling anyone (*sigh*), we had to come home for a couple of days to initiate the new guy.  However, once we were home to the disastrously filthy house (again), a few of the horses looking worse than when I rescued them (again), and a warrant for my arrest (thank you for writing that bad check on the farm account, Lee) we finally had a stroke of good luck.  Yes, really!  A friend of ours called us one night to tell us about a local driving job.  The job pays great (more than Glenn was making on the road) and he’d be home every night!  Woohoo!  More importantly, they are so desperate for drivers that they may even stoop to hiring me, even though I only have a few months experience.  Suckers!

Kidding.  I’m a good driver (said in my best Rain Main voice).

So, we’re home.  Home for good, I might add.  No matter what, I just can’t leave this farm again.  Thanks to the losers that we hired, we’ve lost two dogs, have a house that needs major cleaning and repairs, a truck that is drivable but still won’t pass inspection, horses that were once pocket ponies are now skittish, and a couple of the horses have been starved.  When we came home on the 7th, Don Juan was in the main herd instead of in the stud pen, so we’re also looking at Lutalyse shots for all the mares in a couple of months (you have to wait at least 45 days after exposure before giving them the shot).

I thought I couldn’t afford to NOT go out on the road, but it turns out that I couldn’t afford to leave the farm in the hands of lazy incompetent idiots, either!  The horses are already gaining weight and should be back to normal in a few weeks.  Poor Sketches is the worst, so I hug her several times a day while she’s eating and apologize for leaving her.  She seems to understand when I cry into her mane and stands quietly for the extra attention.  Quill and Sky were skittish when I returned, but have already reverted to the pocket ponies that I remember.  Maggie and Matilda still haven’t forgiven me and want nothing to do with me unless I have food in my hand.  Jethro ran away every time he saw me, but today he and I took a nap in the hay together, with his muzzle resting on my shoulder.

Oh, and let’s not forget the 10k worth of tools that are now missing out of the garage.  If you happen to see a tool for sale at a pawn shop with the initials G.W. etched in to the handle, please let us know.  I hope Gilbert got more than the price of his plane ticket home out of those tools.  They were certainly worth a lot more.

Then there’s Timmy, who somehow got frostbite on his penis, of all places.  Doc came out and explained to Gilbert what he needed to do to take care of the horse and said that if he didn’t start right away, Timmy might lose his wanker.  I talked to Gilbert on the phone that day and he said “don’t worry, he’s just like my horse, I’ll take care of him”.  Then he packed his shit and left the next day without taking care of Timmy’s wanker once.  We got Timmy into a foster home within a day or two, with someone that would take the time to take care of him properly.  It’s still up in the air, but he’s finally looking a little better now that the penicillin shots are over.  I’m hoping we don’t have to put the old man down, but I certainly don’t want him to suffer any more than he already has!

And I keep looking for Thor and Xena to come running home from the back pasture.  I look for them while driving down the back roads.  I listen every night for Xena’s whimper at the door, wanting to come in.   Sometimes Heidi sits, gazing into the distance, as still as a statue, and whimpers.  I think she’s waiting for them to come home, too.