Another Olive Branch Puppy

 

I’m not planning on showing you every cute, adorable, and snuggly puppy that comes into Olive Branch.  But I probably will anyway.  This blog needs a little cute and cuddly once in awhile.

Please say hello to Cletus.  He’d really like you to pick him up so he can chew on your ear lobe.

 

Mom was a Beagle that showed up at someone’s house and had four puppies shortly after.  The nice people took her and her puppies in, got them checked out by a vet, and got mom spayed.  They kept the mother and found homes for three puppies, leaving poor little Cletus still in need of his own human ear lobe to munch on.  So now he’s at Olive Branch, chewing on whatever ears he can find and just hanging out with his ancient friend, Mitzie.

 

 

And playing.  Lots of playing is involved.

 

If you’d like to adopt Cletus, he’s available now!  You just need to provide proof of neutering once he’s old enough.   Quick!  Go get him before I bring him home!  PLEASE! 

Logan

 

As my Facebook friends may already know, Cody was euthanized on June 29th.  Almost 14 years of the best dog ever and it crushed me to come home from work to find him lying in the hot sun completely paralyzed.  That brought us down to five dogs, all females.  We had a really good pack – they stayed home and didn’t roam, they all got along well, and they were all really well behaved.  Just don’t tell Calypso I said so.  I’m sure my generous mood will pass soon anyway.

Then came a call to a friend about a Great Pyrenees dog that was no longer wanted.  His 80 year old owner told her son to take him out into the woods and shoot him.  Thankfully, the son couldn’t bring himself to do it and made some calls trying to find the dog a home.  I brought him home Monday and he immediately took an interest in Lucille.  Oddly, the interest was reciprocated.  Lucille sniffed him all over and lipped his fur, then hung out with him near his tie while I put up a kennel for him.   She also shared his dry dog food coated with bacon grease and loved every bite.  Why is my donkey so odd??

 

The poor dog is terrified of people.  Every time I raise a hand within reach of him he thinks that hand is going to come down on his head… hard.  If I’m carrying anything in my hands when walking past him, he cringes in expectation of a beating.  I can’t get near him without him barking and growling at me.  Once inside the kennel I could corner him and approach slow and low and could eventually pet him.  It does not make him happy to be touched.  He is constantly on guard, tense, and ready to spring at the slightest hint of violence.

Yesterday was incredibly hot and muggy, and although he has shade in his kennel, I thought it might be a good idea to bring him in the house and let him hang out in the A/C with the other dogs (who all adore him, by the way).  Once in the house he felt trapped and afraid, so I left him alone to be in another room in hopes that he’d explore and eventually settle down somewhere near.  Instead, he busted the plastic latch on one of the swing windows in the living room and jumped out.

I thought he’d run off (he’s not neutered, of course), but he just wandered around the yard, got a drink out of the pond, sniffed the chickens, then settled down at Lucille’s feet.  I’ll be honest – with the recent coyote sightings in the back pasture and the Great Chicken Massacre of 2011, I’ve been a little worried about Lucille.  She never leaves the yard, but apparently the coyotes and foxes know no such boundary as the dead chicken carcasses in the yard will confirm.  The last time I saw a fox lope across the back yard Heidi and Calypso were right there with me, watching it go.  Thanks girls, you’re a big help! 

Now that he’s loose he no longer barks and growls at me as soon as I step out the door.  He follows me around at a safe distance, but it will be a long time before I’m able to catch him again.  Eventually, he’s going to have to buddy up with me because I want to get him neutered, vaccinated, and wormed.  He’s also a mess of knots and matted fur and I’d really like to give him a bath and a good grooming.  But that’s not happening any time soon!

 

For now I’ll just have to content myself that he’s happier.  He’s spent his whole life tied up to a chicken coop, barking at passing four wheelers.  It seems a guardian dog needs something to guard and Logan has found something very much in need of protection.  We might just have another happy ending on our hands. 

A Pleasant Surprise

 

Yesterday was a super busy day.  My two new volunteers came over and helped me get Seymour, Lucky, Jethro, Casper, and River in the trailer.  It was hot, muggy, and I was dripping enough sweat to fill a five gallon bucket.  Hello, Summer.  Nice to finally see you. 

Ugh.

Anyway, Seymour, Lucky, and Jethro were headed over to a friend’s place to meet up with Doc and his castration equipment.  Doc was going to be there anyway and he’s so busy these days that it was easier for him if I  took the boys over to him..  Casper and River were headed to the same place to be fostered with two little riders who couldn’t wait for the ponies to show up.

Let me tell you right now, that I love Jethro.  I have loved that stallion since the first night.  He’s so well behaved and unstallion-like that I just can’t help it.  Yesterday was no different.  He was a peach to load, was awesome in the strange barn even when this cute little mare made googly eyes at him, and was also a perfect patient for Doc. 

Seymour was also a very good boy.  When the surgery was over and he was coming out of his drug stupor he was still very woozy and staggering around.  But even in this state he knew he wanted to get back on that trailer and stumbled his way out to it with me trailing behind.  Once he got to the trailer he had to take a break and rest his head on the trailer floor before clambering up into the trailer and begging me to take him away from the mean and nasty vet.  Poor guy.  I felt so bad for him!  That is, until I got him home and tried to take him back to his paddock in the dark.  As soon as he saw Lucille the drugs wore off and he was back to his old self and trying to drag me along with him.  Ya’ll… it was hot.  I as tired.  And it was going to be too dangerous for me to walk him past Lucille and around the pond through the mud in the dark.  So please don’t judge me too harshly when I tell you that I yanked his horny butt back up the driveway and let him spend the night in the stock trailer.   Thankfully, he was a perfect gentleman this morning when I put him back in his paddock.  Whew!

Lucky was a different story.  Lucky hates needles.  Lucky is bigger and stronger than me.  Need I say more?  At least the deed is finally done.

Now, on to the fun stuff!  The kids couldn’t wait to ride Casper so as soon as it started cooling off a bit they tacked the little guy up.  It was obvious from the first that Casper had been through this before.  He was fine with the saddle and took the bit easily.  

 

He was a pro on the longe line.

 

He stood still and almost seemed bored when L climbed on board.

 

His main problem was laziness, which I don’t really consider a problem in ponies.  The lazier the better since not all kids this size ride as well as L.

 

 

She did get him to trot and canter, but Doc was there by then and I was in the barn sitting on Jethro’s neck and not taking pictures.  Casper bucked a few times when asked to canter, but nothing serious and L stayed on him.

 

I just have three words for you… too stinkin’ cute!   It’s River’s turn tonight and I can’t wait to hear how it goes!

Not as dumb as he looks

Let’s admit that Thoroughbreds are not known for their incredible intelligence.  Sure, you might have a smart one now and then, but as a whole, TBs are not the brightest bulbs in the pack.  Timmy is just one such TB.  Dimwitted, dumb, airheaded, blonde.  That pretty much explains the big guy.  But here lately, he’s proving that he might just have more smarts that Lucille the donkey.  Because while Lucille suffers with flies covering her legs all day, no matter how much fly spray I put on her, Timmy takes matters into his own hooves.


He’s not out there drinking, he much prefers the clean water in the trough.  He’s not lame and trying to cool his heels, and he isn’t trying to roll.  This is just where he hangs out when the flies are bad.


Now please start humming the Jaws theme to yourself.  Don’t worry, no one is listening.







I guess even Timmy is too much for the mighty dog shark.

Tempting Fate

 

The past couple of weeks have seen me bitten by a cat, a dog, and a horse.  I’ve broken a big toe then had it stomped on my two different horses.  I had new bruises on my body each night that I couldn’t remember deserving.  I’ve walked into walls, slammed fingers in truck doors, and tripped over lumpy air.  It’s been a hell of a month.

You see, when I’m exhausted or sick, I become more of a clutz than normal.  And trust me, normally I can’t walk twenty feet without finding something to stub a toe on, or trip over.  So multiply that clumsiness by 50 when I’m exhausted.   

Yesterday was my trip to the ER for a tetnus shot after the cat ripped into me.  I was saving the damned thing from a pack of seven dogs and that was how I was thanked.  Silly kitty.  I was already running on fumes when I got home that night, so I turned on my auto pilot and got to work feeding horses.  I was bound and determined to not work any horses.  I was just going to feed, shower, eat, fall into bed. But then I found these beauties on my way back to the house from feeding Seymour.

 

Ahhhhh… wild black raspberries!  Just the thing to make life a little sweeter.  The problem was that the brambles were on a steep bank on the other side of the pond.  I was tired, my boots were untied, laces trailing the ground, the grass was wet and slick… disaster waiting to happen.  I wasn’t about to tie my boots because then I’d have to expend energy to untie them later.  I just wasn’t sure I had it in me to bend over and didn’t want to sleep in my boots.  That’s just the way I roll, ya’ll.

So I spent 20 minutes picking, and eating, berries.  I almost slipped and fell several times.  I almost went head over heels into the rocky stream bed when I tripped over Calypso, who was trying so very hard to assist me in my berry picking endeavors. I almost went down on one knee on top of a large rock when climbing back up the bank.  My scream would have been heard in Ohio if I had.  I almost tipped over the four wheeler while driving back to the house with one hand holding up my shirt full of goodies. 

When I made it back to the house I slowly and carefully tip toed into the house, put the berries in a bowl, flipped off my boots, and gently sat down.  I then marveled at my incredible good fortune in escaping the brambles unscathed, or at least without any new wounds or injuries.  Has my luck finally changed?  Will I no longer require the economy sized box of band aids I purchased last week?  Will that half used tube of Arnica gel now collect dust in my bathroom vanity?  What about the Tylenol PM that gained me a few hours of sleep each night?

I’m feeling so lucky that I think I’ll head to town and buy a lottery ticket or twelve.  Or maybe search for the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

 

Because while some might say that this is the calm before the storm, I prefer to think of it as the calm after a storm. 

This is not my puppy

 

I only wish he was.  He was found wandering around on his own when he was just six weeks old.  Lucky for him, someone called the Olive Branch Rescue and now he’s living large with all of the attention his cute little butt can attract.  And trust me, that’s a lot of attention!

They believe he’s a Norwegian Elkhound cross and is now about eight weeks old.  He had a huge distended belly full of worms when he arrived and I have to wonder how long he survived on his own and what happened to his siblings and mother.

 

Mastering the sit and spin.

 

Fingers are yummy, but only when you can reach them over your own big fat belly!

 

Say cheese!

 

All that play was just exhausting!

 

Blaze should be up for adoption in a few months, once he’s been neutered and has had all of his shots.  Think you can wait that long?

Fashion Sense

 

As you already know, I have no fashion sense.  Good thing Lucille does!  This is what every fashionable donkey should be wearing this summer!  It’s lightweight cool cotton comfort to keep those nasty horse flies off your ears!  It’s chic, it’s stylish, it’s functional… what more could a gorgeous donkey ask for??

 

This is supposed to be a fly bonnet used only when riding, as it really isn’t built to stay on or last with everyday wear.  At least not on a normal active horse.  But on a sweet, crippled Lucille who barely shuffles around the yard, it should work just fine!  I’ll take it off if it ever rains again to make sure it lasts as long as possible.

 

The bonnet was made by a friend of mine, Michelle, who claimed she had to go to the store for more yarn because she didn’t have enough for Lucille’s ginormous ears!

 

Michelle also makes dog sweaters and headwear for humans, so go check out her etsy store!  Because you just know you want to follow in Lucille’s fashion footsteps and sport one of these beauties on your own ears this summer!

The Problems withTestosterone

 

Those of you that have been reading my blog for awhile, and those few newcomers who read my entire blog to combat insomnia, may remember that I’ve had trouble before with my two nearest neighbors and their critters.  First, there was Cattle Baron, whose starving cows broke out of his fence and came into my yard in early spring.  They turned it into a mud pit, tried to destroy my garden, and fell through the floor of my shed behind the house.  Cattle Baron didn’t even notice they were gone.  Then there is Drunken Neighbor on the other side of me, who is also a cousin to Cattle Baron.  When we first moved here, her horse kept escaping and coming over to tear down my fence and get to my horses.  She didn’t know her horse was missing either.  One time, I had him here for several weeks before I could catch up with her to tell her about it.

 

Thankfully, the cattle haven’t been back in a couple of years and neither has Appybutt.  However, about 10 months ago, Cattle Baron got a Jack donkey from an auction and dumped it into his pasture with the cattle for protection.  About six weeks ago, the wind must have blown just right and the incredible horny donkey got Lucille’s scent.  He head-butted the gate until it was bent enough for him to squeeze past, then he came running over to our place.  It was in the wee hours of the morning when we first heard Lucille’s brays of distress.  She was practically screaming and we could tell she was in pain.  When we turned on the outside lights to see what was going on, we found poor crippled Lucille trying to fight off one very turned on jack donkey.  Lucille had bite marks all up and down her neck and back and most of them were bleeding.  Her ears were a bloody mess where the jack had bitten them and ripped off the hair.  Glenn was ready to shoot the donkey, but no matter how angry and upset I was, I just couldn’t blame the donkey.  He was just following his instinct, doing what he thought he had to for the continuation of the species.  Why should he die when there were other options? 

 

 

Eventually, I caught the little bugger.  Once caught, he calmed down and was actually a well-behaved boy.  I put him in a pen by himself until I could take him back in the morning.  He was back two days later, raping Lucille again.   When the neighbor came over to get him he brought his whole family.  You see, after eight months of having the donkey, Cattle Baron had no idea that the little guy was halter broke!  He thought his family would have to herd him back home, so he was surprised when I met him halfway with the donkey in tow.

 

This time, the neighbor locked him in the barn to keep him home.  That lasted a few days until he jumped out of the barn, busted the gate in half, and came running back to our place.  This time I offered to keep the donkey (we learned then that his name was Seymour), get him castrated, get those twisted hooves trimmed, vaccinate and worm him, then adopt him out to someone else.  He wouldn’t hear of it because it was “kinda nice” to have a donkey.  So I still have Seymour until he’s castrated, then he goes back to Cattle Baron.  Not ideal, but at least Lucille is safe.

 

 

I’m hoping we can get him, and a few other stallions, castrated in a few weeks.  I hate to do it in warm weather, but I don’t want to be stuck with him until Fall, either.

 

 

I have to confess that I’m going to miss Seymour.  He’s become so sweet and gentle, he loves attention and follows me wherever I go within his pen, and lets me (and the rest of the county) know when he’s lonely by braying.  Even if it’s in the middle of the night, because loneliness doesn’t keep a schedule.

Water Dog Extraordinaire

 

Has anyone ever heard of an English Bull Dog or a Blue Heeler enjoying the water?  I certainly haven’t, but I’ve never had either breed of dog before.  Now I have both, wrapped up in one very dense, heavy, solid puppy.  Oh, I forgot stubborn, obstinate, intelligent, challenging, and ornery.  And cute.  Mostly.

Calypso loves the water.  I mean LOVES it, with a passion.  Unlike Heidi and Stormy, who just wade up to their bellies, Calypso dives right in with gusto and swims around the pond without a specific destination in mind.  She also enjoys bathing in the 100 gallon horse trough that I have in the yard for Lucille, especially when I’ve just cleaned it and put in fresh water.  Lucille is usually not amused.

 

She also loves to fetch and will swim out into the middle of the pond simply to bring me something that she only thought I threw out there.

 

 

 

The real fun comes when she reaches the shore only to find Heidi there waiting to snatch the stick from her mouth.

 

And did I mention she only shakes off the stinky pond water when I’m in range?  Adorable.  Simply adorable.  Really.

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.