It’s been a very busy week and I’ll be glad when Sunday comes and I can get back to what is more the norm for me.  I will have worked 38 hours this week, that’s 38 hours on my feet.  I’m feeling it now.

As I write this, I have an apple pie cooling and a chicken pot pie in the oven.  Earlier this week I made another batch of banana breads and some blueberry corn muffins.  Both turned out excellent.

You’d think with all this cooking I’d be gaining weight, but quite the contrary, I’ve gone down a pant size since October.  I haven’t bought any more pants and the ones I’m wearing now are all but falling off me.  When they get too bad, they get put in the Goodwill bag which I’ll take to Goodwill sometime next week and try to find some pants that fit a bit better.  Constantly pulling up pants is incredibly aggravating.  I refuse to buy new clothes when I can find perfectly good clothes at Goodwill.  I needed some more dinner plates and was looking at some of the patterns at Walmart, but decided to check out Goodwill and was glad to find four really pretty plates for $.49 each.  Pants are less than $4.  Why spend $15 or more when I can get perfectly good pants for $4?

Got some bad news about Esme on Tuesday: Marcus ran over her.  Stupid, stupid, stupid man having a five month old puppy loose in the truck with the windows opened.  She jumped out the window and he ran over her.  As far as I know, she’s okay, but it’s cost him over $1,000 in vet bills so far.  I had a come to Jesus talk with him on Wednesday both reminding him that he still owed me for that puppy and that he needs to be more responsible.  You simply cannot let a Border Collie run wild which is what he’s been doing with her.  He was quite devastated when I talked to him Tuesday night and I almost went over there when I got out of work, but luckily good sense prevailed and I went straight home.  That door is officially closed and locked.

I did some cat trading this week.  One night when I was leaving work I met a couple who were out feeding the cats who live in the Walmart parking lot.  We talked and that I love black cats came out.  She said that she had some lovely black cats that she had been unable to find homes for because most people just don’t like black cats.  I asked if she’d consider trading a red tabby cat for a black cat and she said yes.  She said that she couldn’t keep red cats “in stock” because people really like them.  So, I traded Mr. Red for two short haired black cats (it was a two for one deal).  These two cats are so sweet and good natured.  One is named Bubba and the other Boo Boo.  I had some difficulty getting Mr. Red to cooperate with being caught and groomed at a time that I could take him with me to work to give to her so he’s still here, but I managed to get him groomed this morning so he’ll go today.  I do feel a bit guilty letting Mr. Red go there.  Of course she takes good care of her cats, but he’ll be put on kibble and he will end up in an indoor-only home.  He really needs to be in an indoor-only home.  His coat was a mess from going outside.  I don’t care for long-haired cats because I don’t like grooming.

I might be able to get out and work the dogs for a while this morning, but maybe not.  I have a few errands to run before I go to work today and I might just take them for a run and start fresh next week.  I decided this week to officially put Cian up for a while.  He simply cannot stay in contact with the stock.  He runs off into never-never land and completely looses contact.  I tried to use him the other night to bring the sheep up from where they were grazing.  He did okay for a few minutes, but when the sheep started to drift off, he could not move them.  He just flipped back and forth, back and forth, back and forth and instead of the sheep moving towards me, they continued to move into him (away from me).  It was sad to watch.  When I take the sheep down in the morning, instead of getting behind the stock, he runs out into the back field.  What he thinks he’s doing, I don’t know.  He’s just running.  The dog wants to work, he just can’t get it.  It’s extraordinarily frustrating.  I still have a few ideas on how to get to the bottom of this problem, but for now, I think I’m going to just put him up for now.  I have three dogs here to work and that’s quite enough for me for now.

Luna had two babies on Tuesday: a buck and a doe.  I may have mentioned that Luna tends to ignore her colored babies and just nurse the white ones.  That pattern seems to have been broken because she’s nursing both babies.  The doe is the colored baby and oh is she pretty.  I know, pictures, pictures, pictures.  Next Thursday I’ll have Wally take the buck kid to the sale to sell as a bottle baby.  I would rather keep just doe kids because they will be more valuable down the road.  I know this seems cruel, but if a doe has two babies, I’ll take one and sell it as a bottle baby so the doe will only have a single baby on her.  I refuse to completely take the babies away from the does, but I don’t want them raising twins as it will decrease their milk supply.

Well, I need to haul water down to the sheep and run the dogs.  Then come back in and get ready for work.

Until later …

4 Replies to “Updates”

  1. I’m sorry to hear about Esme. One of my puppies (they’ll always be puppies to me) is living on a working ranch (yes, it’s true), and she was accidentally hit by a cattle feeder driven by one of the farm hands. She lost her tail and broke her pelvis, but she’s made a pretty amazing recovery.

    You question your decisions (was this the right home, was this foreseeable, did this puppy belong on a working ranch) but you realize that you can’t micromanage, you can’t live other people’s lives, and fate doesn’t have perfect bliss in store for us all and everything we touch.

    What made me proud and satisfied that this was still the right home was the willingness of the owners to go above and beyond with saving the puppy and getting her the treatment and rehab she needed. They could have put her down on the spot and gotten another puppy. And I don’t think I could have blamed them. But she’s alive and well now and impersonating an Aussie.

  2. Hey Christopher,

    I try not to question why things happen. I know Esme is loved where she is and that’s all that’s important to me. Well, I’d like to get paid for her, but whatever …

    Everything does happen for a reason, from Gel catching Fern (who is his daughter) and producing Esme, to my decision to not euthanize Esme at birth, to Marcus coming over to shoot the possum and his decision to take Esme for his son.

    Life just happens, as it should.

  3. It’s hard not to believe in fate, no? I’ve got some sex scandal in my story too… and a bit more tragedy.

    So this puppy was sold with breeding rights as the new owners were looking for a mail order bride for their best working dog to carry on his legacy and they needed another dog to help carry the load of their growing business.

    As you know, there are very few BC breeders who do hip and DNA testing and that was important for a breeding prospect.

    So, tragedy strikes, the puppy gets hit, her pelvis is shattered, her birth canal might be compromised, no chance for getting a real hip score–hopefully her parents’ good hips hold true–and will this injury set back her training on stock or prevent her from being a reliable working dog.

    More over, are the owners going to have to bring another puppy on to the ranch to accomplish their goal of breeding their male while nursing the puppy back to health all while actually running their ranch.

    Breeding is entirely out of the question, right? The only reason she wasn’t spayed on the spot or soon after is because she was already traumatized and had lost a lot of blood from her tail injury.

    Well, life happened and at 3 am one morning before showing any signs of being in heat, she escaped out of a window in the house, the stud let himself out of the barn, and they eloped to the neighbor’s property and had a smashing good time, waking up the neighbors and producing a belly full of puppies.

    Crapola, no? Well, the night before her scheduled delivery/spay she gave birth with no complications to a large litter of healthy puppies. The owners liked the results enough that they kept a couple as prospects, and the rest of the puppies went to working ranches to people who knew the stud well and were enamored with the mother. Alls well that ends well I guess, but I wondered …could there be any more drama?

    Sure enough, just weeks later the stud dog was struck and killed on the road.

    Devastating accidents and undesired mistakes, and if you had to ask at the outset if you’d make those sacrifices to accomplish the goal of creating a legacy for your best dog, I imagine few people would.

    But if everything went “right” and there was no cattle feeder accident and if the puppy was put down or spayed, and if they would have waited until the pup was older, and if later she and the stud didn’t escape and breed…. the stud dog’s legacy would have died with him and there’d be no consolation.

    Five families who were waiting for that dog’s progeny would be disappointed, the owners would be left with a bitch who was hand picked to compliment a dog that was now gone and who certainly would not be bred given that, and they’d still be short handed and any hopes of breeding would be back to square one.

    Now, my “puppy” has picked up the slack and has become an indispensable worker who is undaunted by her injury, the owners have at least two shots at the puppies carrying on their father’s legacy, and five other pups are hopeful prospects on ranches from here to California.

    Crazy, no?

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