We have hay!

Last spring we ran out of hay before first cutting and had to scramble to find a truckload or two. So this past fall we bought a BUNCH o' hay! We have enough hay to make it into third cutting - late in the season.

It's a good thing too because this spring has been so wet and rainy that no one could cut their hay fields. It was never dry enough to drive the heavy machinery out in the fields to cut the hay, let alone dry enough for the hay to lay in pretty rows drying out enough to be baled. Wet hay ='s mold.

Everyone was talking about hay. A lot of folks were running out of hay from the previous season and getting a bit panicky about what they'd feed their critters. ('cept us cuz I overstocked on hay!) People needed to cut hay. Everyone was watching the weather to decide when to cut hay.

Our hay supplier, Ellie, cut hay. A lot of people cut hay. The weather was supposed to be 90's and sunny for a full week. As I drove around, everywhere you looked, there were beautiful rows of drying hay. There were hay equipment trucks all over the roads - stackers, balers, cutters.... everyone was in hay day frenzy.

There is truth to the saying, "You gotta make hay while the sun shines"!

That very night we had a freakish thunderstorm that made everyone feel like we were on the planet Mars. It was continuous lightening and a steady, sonorous rumbling of thunder in the skies. The skies were purple and green and pink. The rain poured down for 2 straight hours. Every weatherman on the local news stations said how this storm cell appeared out of nowhere. I thought about all those pretty hay fields getting drenched.

There was nothing to do but turn all the lights off in the house and watch Mother Nature's light show. I thought that this is what it must be like to be Jennifer Aniston with the paparazzi hot on her heels... flash after flash after flash.

I called Ellie the next day and she was on the very edge of the storm.. her ground was dry. She hadn't gone out into the hay field yet but we were all keeping our fingers crossed. A lot of hay fields were not so lucky. A lot of hay was lost - completely drenched in the field.

Guess what?

Her kid showed up with a flat bed trailer loaded full of hay to stack our hay shed full o' hay, glorious hay. We love Ellie's hay and we love her boy for bringing it and stacking it for us cuz I tell ya, loading and unloading and stacking hay really sucks. It's best left for those young, strappin' strong farm boys!

I'm alone!

Furry Husband is headed up to Grand Junction this weekend for a disc golf tournament. He's staying with our friends Mo & Do (Dorothy).


He made a huge batch of the better than sex spaghetti sauce for me cuz he worries I won't eat when he's gone.... as if.

Looks like I'll be eating spaghetti on my toast, in my cereal, with chips, in my salad, spaghetti protein shakes, spaghetti appetizers, spaghetti for dessert, breakfast, lunch and dinner... mmmmmmm!

I have a list of stuff to get done... weeding, weeding, weeding, riding horses, cleaning horse/goat pens along with the house... trying to get a step ahead of our little place. *snort - riiiiiight!*

Enterotoxemia

Last night I was pulling the waist high weeds in our second kid pen because it is time for the buck kids and doe kids to be separated. We don't want any young pregnancies. We have to pull the weeds so the kids don't gorge themselves and get sick... we pulled the weeds cuz our lawn mower died.

I noticed one of our buck kids was acting a bit off... laying down, then getting up and doing this rocking horse stance that is a classic sign of enterotoxemia.

Legs spread far apart, long back hollowing out... like they are stretching sorta...

He didn't seem painful but ... he kept standing funny. I saw a picture of classic enterotoxemia stance in a goat health talk when I attended the American Dairy Goat Association convention held in Ft. Collins a couple years ago. Thank goodness for the convention and thank goodness we just happened to be pulling weeds or I may not have noticed this little buck kid acting a bit funny until it was too late.

I called our goat vet. She was busy working on a ram with choke at her place and couldn't come to me, but if I could get the kid to her place, she'd be happy to have a look. She's only 10-15 minutes away so I grabbed the checkbook, the goat kid and headed on over.

She examined him - he didn't have any other clinical signs other than that rocking horse stance. She decided to treat him because she didn't want us (or her) woken up in the middle of the night with a goat kid in the throes of enterotoxemia. She gave him banamine for pain, some anti-toxin and some penicillin. She thought he'd be just fine in the morning and he was...

I'll give him penicillin the next 3 days but it looks like he's made a full recovery!

I don't know why it happened - it's never happened before, they are in a contained area, they get the same amt of milk two times a day, they don't go out on pasture, they were vaccinated. Shrug. The important thing is we caught it and he'll be fine. Our goat vet thought maybe he'd gotten a little dehydrated, slowed things down in his g.i. tract which allowed the toxins normally present to run a bit amok...

Yeesh! It's always sum'thin' out here on the farm....

He's gone.

My big, beautiful, Mama's boy, Booker, the Gordon Setter is gone.

He had severe heart troubles three weeks ago which warranted a trip to CSU Veterinary Hospital. No one really knew what was wrong with him or why his heart was doing this. The most common cause is cancer but they couldn't find any definite tumors. There was a flurry of guesses and tests and it was an emotional roller coaster for Furry Husband and I.

We brought Booker home on heart meds and he had a really good three weeks. Really good. We spoiled him rotten... and when I say rotten, I mean rotten! You could see Booker thinking, "I dunno what I did, but this is so cool. I am golden!"

He felt good up until this weekend.


He began acting depressed and stopped eating. It wasn't obvious ... he just acted... I dunno.... restrained. He followed me everywhere, tail wagging but he just wasn't right - there was no sparkle - he wasn't his exuberant self.

We pulled blood and urine on Monday. Booker was scheduled to see a vet at CSU Tuesday afternoon.

Monday night Booker was uncomfortable - on the bed, off the bed, on the bed, off the bed.... moaning and panting and he just couldn't get comfortable. But he was up and wagging. I put him in his kennel (right next to our bed and used as a nightstand) so we could try and get some sleep. It's painful to have a 75lb dog jump up on you, pop an ovary and then jump off only to repeat it over and over again.

At 5am I got up and opened his kennel only to find he could no longer stand. We pulled him out of his kennel and moved him into the living room. It was a repeat of the Saturday night three weeks ago when he first collapsed. He couldn't move he was so weak and his gums were pale as pale can be.

There was no sense in prolonging this for him. We called our vet who came to our home to put Booker down. No one at CSU Vet Hospital knew why it was happening, the fact he kept overcoming the heart meds (we'd had the dosage adjusted once before after another mild collapsing episode) told us something was really, really wrong.

It was a very sad day for us yesterday. We were sort of lost... we went to the Humane Society because we just had this big, gaping 75lb hole in our hearts... but of course none of the dogs there was Booker and we'd much rather bring a dog home when we can be happy about it vs. being so, so, sad.

We stopped at The Rio Grande - a place famous for margaritas. I downed three and then we stopped at the feed store where lo and behold was one, lone, solitary kitten someone brought in for a new home.... screaming it's little fool head off. We took the "grief kitten" home.

*head hitting desk*

New rule. No drunken adoptions of grief kittens.

This morning under more sober light, we decided we can not keep this little grief kitten. We have six, count them SIX cats already and I am well on my way to crazy cat lady land.


My friend Karen told me she was thinking about getting a kitty when we went to the Ballpark Flea Market together. I called her today and told her about our little grief kitten. She's going out of town this weekend but wants him when she gets back. I was given strict instructions: "Do NOT name my cat and do NOT get too attached!"


We are o.k. We are sad. Awful sad and we will miss that big ol' dawg. There will never be another like him.

Ballpark Flea Market

Denver has a once a month flea market in the summer between 21st and 22nd Larimer Street. I went last Saturday with my friend Karen in search of a bench or some type of seating for my garden. I woke up at 5:30am, did all my chores, had my coffee and met Karen at 7am for our drive to Denver.

I drove our pick-up truck to haul any great finds we bought home. Karen and I felt like we were going on a hunting trip! Only we weren't looking for ducks, pheasant, deer or elk....and ummm, we weren't packin' any heat.

We parked in downtown Denver and plunked our change into the meter for 2 hrs time. Oh, I love Denver with all it's pavement, tall buildings, concrete, cars, meters, and city-ness! I am such a country mouse now.... I couldn't live there anymore tho' I do appreciate it when I come to visit.

The very first vendor we came across had a bench and one of those 1950's metal bounce chairs. My heart began racing and I could feel the adrenaline hit. I took the smaller wares displayed on the bench off, set them to the side and I sat down to test the bench out. It is old, weathered, big enough for 2 people, has arms, a back and lots and lots of peeling paint. I love it. It seemed sturdy and comfortable enough.

I asked the woman how much for the bench and the metal chair? She lowered the price on each and sold them to me for $125. Score! I think my new bench has a lot more character than a metal glider. Karen and I moved on to see what other treasures might be waiting.

I LOVE flea markets. I love looking at the random pieces of life from different generations. Images of childhood and grandparent's houses come rushing back when you see a particular piece. Karen and I told small stories from our lives when something brought back a snapshot of the past.

There were so many good things to see and touch and want! I overspent... I bought a weathered paint chipped stool to place between my bench and metal chair to either hold drinks or another somebody.

I found some old transom windows with iron fitted into each corner. Karen and I agreed we'd never seen anything like them and they were so interesting! I bought two. One will go up outside our front door and the other will hang from the pergola Furry Husband plans to build... in a year or two. (the right sort of wood is really 'spensive!)

This is a pergola similar to the one we want to build off our front door leading to the garden...

I also found a small cedar chest. I'd been looking for something to put in my horse trailer... something to store extra saddle pads and equipment. Something I could sit on and something sturdy enough I could stand on it to climb into the gooseneck area. It's perfect! Small enough it doesn't get in the way and sturdy enough to sit / stand on.

Karen found a couple of comfy outdoor chairs for her yard and we called it quits. Headed back to the truck, pulled it up to the flea market, loaded up our treasures, strapped it all in and drove home happy with our successful hunt!

I'll be polyurethane-ing the heck out of my bench this weekend to weather proof it. I don't want the wood to age any more than it already is. I'll post pictures when it's done, in the mean time, it's sitting protected from the weather in our hay shed so every time I feed the critters I get that tingly excitement of a great find all over again!

You wanna beer?

Saturday afternoon I needed to clean stalls up at Rex's barn to fill in for one of her regular working students. I had this brilliant idea....

It's been so wet and muddy that I hadn't been able to ride the horses. The footing is too bad and it's just too slippery.

But the roads aren't so mucky...


And that cowboy trainer I took our gelding, Rosso, to told me I should ride him on the roads as much as possible....


Hmmmmm.


Rex's barn is 2 maybe 2 1/2 miles up the road....


I called and left a message up at Rex's that I'd be riding Rosso up and if I wasn't there by 2pm, would she please come looking for a grease spot on the road?


I saddled Rosso up (after not riding him for two weeks because of 'effing torrential RAIN every, single day), I lunged him for a minute to let him get his ya-ya's out. I hopped on, took a deep breath and down the road we went.

We crossed the paved road where the cars go flying past at 75mph, we made it past the llama farm.... and just around the corner from Rex's place there was a pasture with two white horses.

They came charging up to the fence and that caused Rosso to lose his cool. He danced sideways and backwards and when I did the "knock his ass end out from under him" per cowboy trainer, Rosso started going backwards... there is a barb wire fence behind us and I thought..."here it comes....better hold on..... cuz if he backs into that fence things are gonna get UG-LY!"

He didn't - he went forward at the last minute and we made to Rexanne's without further incident. Shew!

I cleaned stalls and headed back home.

When we made it to Cty Rd 15, the paved road where people drive 75mph? There was traffic. Rosso didn't want to chill out and wait. He was antsy... really antsy. I "knocked his ass end out" and he was still fizzy and hot. I walked in small circles... I couldn't go forward because there was traffic on 15 whizzing past at 75mph.

All of a sudden, this big, ol, black dually truck with two gen-u-ine cowboys inside turns off of 15, past me with the fizzy horse, and on up toward Rex's. It was Justin, Rex's smart ass, super good guy, older brother. He slows, rolls down his window and says... "You wanna beer?"

I managed a laugh and told him not right now I was busy taking my life into my hands but thanks....

He started to drive off.... saw I have having some trouble with Rosso and stopped... he watched and waited until I made it safely across Cty Rd 15 before going on his way.

Can I tell you how much I absolutely LOVE my neighborhood and my neighbors?! I love the fact we all sorta know each other and watch out for each other. Love it, love it, love it.

I called him later to tell him thanks for watching out for me and tell him he was a really good guy.... you could tell it embarrassed him... " aw shucks ma'am, t'weren't nuthin' ". I think I heard him blush over the phone...

Hotdogs

I love me a good hot dog in the summer time! I don't eat them every day or anything but when we go to a ball game in Denver? I GOTS to have me a hot dog! Summer BBQs? I'll take a hot dog please!

I know they are all full of pig lips and assholes and rat turds and I don't care.

I went to my first BBQ of the season Sunday at our favorite neighbor's house. I'd just gotten home from my riding lesson on Sera, I sorta fixed my "smashed flat by a helmet" hair and I walked down the dirt road with a bottle o' brewski looking very much like a vagrant pulling sips on my beer...

I arrived, chatted, relaxed, ate some chips and guacamole, had another beer and noticed a plate with some cooked hamburger patties and ONE last hot dog. I began drooling like Homer Simpson in front of a donut. MMMMMM. That last hot dog had my name ALL over it.

I put it in a bun, slathered it with the fixin's and sat down to enjoy my FIRST summer hot dog.

Hmmmm. That's funny. It's sorta rubbery. I had to kinda gnaw thru my first bite.

Odd. It doesn't have that "hot dog" taste.

I figured I'd grabbed a hot dog cooked a while ago... you know how they can get a little chewy after they've cooled from the grill if they've been cooked too long? I shrugged and plowed right along. I'm nothing if not determined... some might say.... stubborn?

Our neighbors noticed me eating the last hot dog.... they looked at me wide-eyed.

"Shanster! That is a VEGGIE dog!"

Well hell. No wonder the damn thing had no flavor and was all chewy!

I can't believe I ate a veggie dog.

I've got nothing against veggies...or vegetarians... I like tofu, I like veggies, and veggie dishes or casseroles. I like portabella mushroom "burgers" and I understand the boca burger substitute. But why oh why would any one create a VEGGIE HOT DOG? Sweet muther of....

It's just wrong.

If you want to eat a veggie hot dog, you should really give it up and just become the carnivore you are.

I've been VIOLATED!

Ft. Collins experiences Miller Moth season... it's in full swing right now. There are moths EVERYWHERE. And I mean everywhere.

As you drive a long, there are hundreds of birds swirling around in the sky eating Millers. Traffic intersections in town are full of barn swallows diving, swooping and zooming around like little fighter jets as they snatch up the Millers.

Any time someone opens a door or a window, Millers fall out and flutter away to some other dark crevice or hidey hole.

This morning I was innocently driving along to work, singing along with the CD in my stereo and

OH MY GOD!

A Miller flew UP my knee length skirt and was fluttering, flapping and trying to find a dark spot to hide.... which is all that is up any one's skirt! Thighs and skirt folds and knee pits and my... my... *ahem*

I am not generally a squeal-y type of girl but in this instance?

I was squealing like ten litters of swine! It is amazing I didn't take out five cars, a few pedestrians and the bike to work dude....

I got the Miller out and then it was zooming around the car - dive bombing my head - I rolled down all the windows and saw it sucked out. I hope it was IMMEDIATELY eaten by a barn swallow.

I made it to work but I can still feel the flapping... I need a shower. I need pants...

I am not wearing another skirt until Miller Moth season is OVER!

The one that got away....

I'm looking for a retro 1950's metal glider bench for that little patio I made in my garden. I've been watching Craigslist in my area and monitoring e-bay. I've been to the Ft. Collins flea markets .. no dice.

Today I found a bench like this one in hot pink. It was in Denver. I called the guy and told him I wanted it.

"Yeah, you and about 10 other people." he replied.

I told him I could give him a CC number over the phone. He didn't do that. Cash only.

I told him I'd be in Denver tomorrow morning. He said Saturday he was unavailable.

I was having major heart palpitations.... I. WANT. THIS. GLIDER.

I called Furry Husband breathless... "Who do you know in Denver that could go pay for this glider bench? NOW! NOW! I need a name NOW!"

Poor Furry Husband recognizes that crazed, desperate edge to my voice and doesn't ask questions... he only gives answers when I'm like that.

He gave me his buddy Chris's number. Chris wasn't working today... I called Chris over and over and he never did answer his cell.

I sent a desperate e-mail out to my Mom and Sister in Denver.... no response.

I called my good friend Sally and asked if there was any way possible she might slip away from her office in Denver to stop by this place and pay the guy $107.80 in cash. ($100 plus tax) I could pick it up on Sunday and I'd pay her right back.

I love Sally. LOVE her to pieces!

I called the guy, he didn't answer but I left a breathless and semi-coherent message, "Please don't sell it! My friend is coming to pay for it... she's on her way! I know your name is Dan but I told her your name was Dave ... please don't sell it out from under me!"

Sally called to make sure he still had it as she walked out of her office....

Bastard sold it right out from under me! He'd just loaded it on someone else's truck....

I'm headed to Denver with a girlfriend tomorrow to hit the Ballpark Flea Market held once a month downtown, next to Coor's Field to look for my glider bench. I might have to stop by Dan's house to throw a few eggs and rotten tomatoes his way.... heh, heh, heh (evil maniacal laughter fades out this post)

Never a dull moment!

I got home from work Tuesday night and I headed straight for the bathroom cuz my bladder is the size of a small acorn. Furry Husband was yelling at me from the living room, "Hey - the goats are all running around really crazy! (pause) Oh! (pause) Hey - can you come here?!"

Why does everything exciting happen when I'm on the toidy peeing??

When I was able, I came into the living room to look out the window.

Our buck was in the doe pen! All three does were racing around like stock cars in the Indy 500 and the buck was in hot pursuit.

The wooden spool we have in the buck pen as a shade maker and as his play toy to jump on had migrated across his pen to the fence separating him from the girls. He jumped up and over into the doe pen. It's the first unintentional "buck is with the does" incident in the time we've had goats. And here I was, feeling smarmy that our buck has never gotten in with the does.

That'll teach me!

Of course we ran out to remedy the situation. I grabbed up ol' bucky boy and walked him to his pen. He was wound up but good! I had to grab his beard to keep him under control... which is like grabbing someone's ear to make them follow you.

Furry Husband moved the spool to another area.

I inspected the doe's hoo-ha's. (what a heart-warming picture perfect moment... me closely inspecting goat va-jay-jays)

I don't think anyone was violated.

It isn't mating season. No one was in heat and if a doe isn't in heat, they don't let the bucks near them.

The buck wasn't doing any of his mating rituals (stomping his front leg, sticking his tongue out and making odd Chewbacca like love calls). Our buck isn't in rut right now because it's not mating season.

I'm guessing if the buck is like any other red-blooded male, he COULD be ready for action at any given moment. I think we caught things right as they happened and there was no harm done. Hopefully he was just happy to have other goats to play with not mate with.

We will mark our calendar and keep watch in November just in case. Yeesh. Never a dull moment!

Milk production went down the next milking because of the excitement. Spot was the doe most traumatized. Her milk production plummeted. Poor Spot! The does are all back to normal milk production and everyone is fine. The does look relieved. The buck looks disappointed.

Time suck....

Sunday morning I got up at 5:30am... yes, 5:30am on a Sunday... to clean stalls for my trainer because I am a complete whore for lessons and when I fill in for her working students when they want a day off, I earn lessons.

I ran home, loaded up my girl, Sera - had my lesson - got home in time to take a shower and 15 minutes later Kylee arrived for our play date.

I took Kylee ( my little sister from the mentoring program ) to this dinner theatre activity they set up. I expected it to go a couple hours... maybe even 3 hrs cuz I knew lunch was included. Damn thing went ON and ON and ON and ON and ON and ON and ON... four and one half hours later, it was finally over.

The play was o.k. - it was a 1950's era thing with a Fonzie like character and a motorbike and a soda shop. It was a musical. The food was mediocre. It was free so I'm not complaining...
Well yeah, I guess I AM complaining cuz the thing was SO effing LONG.

I mean how much of an attention span do they think kids have anyway? I was checking my watch on the sly, when intermission came and it was 3pm, I wanted to bang my head on the table over and over until I passed out so when I woke up it'd be over.

I bet I would have enjoyed it all much, much more if it wasn't FOUR and a HALF hours LONG.

Adding to the misery was the fact that Kylee's mom gave her a Benadryl for allergies and she was sleepy and non-communicative for the afternoon.

I should be a nicer person but dang - it is HARD to give up 1/2 of a day on something like that. I still do it and Kylee has no idea that it is sometimes hard for me - she can't hear the conversation going on in my head. I sure look like a nice person on the outside..... but inside.... man I am one selfish Shanster!

I hope they live!

The odd 12'x12' square concrete foundation outside our front door... It was there when we bought the place... we assume someone wanted to put in a garage at one point and it never happened.

My vision is to turn it into a peaceful oasis to sit in.

It is completely shaded by our house in the afternoon which makes it a perfect afternoon haunt in the heat of summer.


My friend Ann has a gorgeous garden and is an AVID gardener and when I say avid, I might mean rabid.


She had a ton of hardy, full sun, perennials she needed to divide. I went to her house and brought home ajuga (ground cover), sedum (ground cover), perennial geranium, mountain bluet, chives, oregano, parsley, lambs ear... other things I can't 'member right now...



I put in the brick path with a spot for a nice bench or a couple chairs. I'd LOVE to find one of those old 1950's metal gliders... not sure what will end up there. Something fun, funky and comfy.


Now ze garden square looks like zees! (say in French accent)




Everything is majorly stressed. It all looks wilted and as if it wants to die.
I watered it well and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will grow, flourish and take over the rest of my square! Ann even had some horse tail bog plant and some miniature cat tails for my pond!

It was like winning the plant lottery. Made my heart go pitter pat at rapid rates....

She also gave me this... it's a cotoneaster. She hated it. Tried to kill it 3 times and it kept coming back. We have no idea if it will transplant or not... all we can do is try and if it doesn't work, Ann's happy cuz it is out of her garden.


Damn.


I'se tired now. I'se gots me a beer. Happy Saturday night!

Wilbur's Goat Extravaganza

Once a year, we take a few goat kids to Wilbur's Liquor Store in Ft. Collins for the human kids. It's next to Whole Foods and a strip mall that includes a PetCo and a fitness center. It is one of the BUSIEST parking lots in Ft. Collins.

Why do we do this?

The owner of Wilbur's loves baby goats and he has a bunch of grand-children so I guess his mind just "goes there". I know - liquor store and children don't really mix but damn, when you have children, I'm guessing you've gotta drink so um, the parents are still going to the liquor store with tots in tow and one Saturday the tots get to pet goats.

It is a mad house of people and questions and children! Mostly people ask why we cut the ears off of our goats... or what happened to their ears... or how long does it take for the ears to grow in? And since our goats are Lamanchas, they are born with teeny little ears which are called gopher ears and I say that 3,278 times in two hours.

The other big question is what happened to their heads? Is that how the horns grow in? and they are referring to the scabs from the disbudding process... we explain that horns = injured goats and udders and goats stuck in fences so we have a vet come and disbud them so the horns never grow in. I am always terrified that a militant PETA member is going to show up and give me what fer. It hasn't happened yet.

Awwww - someone even brought a puppy but our goat doesn't like puppies so much and wants to smash it...
The Wilbur's Goat Extravaganza is fun but usually pretty exhausting.

The Annual Goat Fest we have at our house is MUCH more fun for us! We eat and drink and catch up with our friends.... oh, and we play with goats. We start out here and end up running around in the pasture watching the children and goat kids play laughing our fool heads off.When we have our Annual Goat Fest at home, it's the children that get plum tuckered out instead of us!

Rosso comes home...

I brought Rosso home bright and early last Saturday morning.

Anthony, the cowboy, he'd been with for training followed me home and rode him up the road to show me once and for all that Rosso would be FINE.

Poor Anthony - you could see him rolling his eyes at me and my butt only sits on 2 horses that I own, not 10 horses a day and different horses all the time. I don't exactly have the knowledge and confidence he does.

I followed him in his truck and watched how Rosso handled it all... cars whizzing by cuz no one drives slow out in the country, cows on the side of the road and most importantly LLAMAS!

There is this llama farm 1/2 way up the road to my regular trainer's house. I wanted to see Rosso when he was really afraid of something... Anthony got to the house with llamas. There was one llama standing at the fence. Rosso didn't react to the ONE llama. Anthony was teasing me yelling, "Look at the scary llama!"

And then a herd of 15 llamas came galloping to join the lone llama. It's as if they were lying in wait for Rosso! He spooked pretty well but it's not like he bolted or took off bucking like a rodeo bronc... Anthony rode him past the herd o' llamas a couple times and continued on his way. It was good for me to see.


We got to Rex's, Anthony jumped into his truck and took off. I hopped up on Rosso and had my lesson.

After it was over, there was no way home but to ride.... I swallowed and took off down the road. Furry Husband showed up in his car to make sure I'd be o.k. and took a couple o' pix.


I tell you, I was so excited and happy to be riding my big, red gelding down the road. It's my goal to get him out for trail rides this summer along with his formal Dressage training. I almost felt bad - like he would be happier as a trail horse than a Dressage horse and then I woke up...

after all, he is living the high life with his small herd, turned out into pasture, well fed, well kept with vaccinations, regular farrier work, worming etc. - the LEAST he can do is give me an hour a day for "work".

As a reward we'll hit the trails... there are MUCH, MUCH worse situations he could be in. Pooor, poooor pony. Just look at 'im. Don't you feel bad for 'im? *snort*

He's home!

We were able to bring Booker home last night and I think we are ALL relieved he is home.

Makes a huge difference.... he's on his medications and all is well.

The next big mile stone was to make sure he could pee on his own vs. having to have a catheter.

He can which is great news and means Booker Death Watch has been lowered to Defcon 2 vs. Defcon 10. Amazing how much better it is to have him home where he is happy and acting completely normal. Based on the pee thing, his life expectancy was increased and now he lives with us until he doesn't feel good anymore or something else acute happens.

Big relief... funny how it's all relative isn't it?

Tune in tomorrow for an update on Rosso's return home!

Bad news

Well friends, my big, goofy, black and tan Gordon Setter has cancer. He collapsed Saturday night at home. We rushed him to CSU vet hospital emergency where they stabilized him.

We had a bit of false positive news yesterday that had us practically giddy with joy thinking he was going to be o.k. but they found a lot of tumors today.

Hellooooo emotional roller coaster.

Hopefully we can bring him home today and he'll spend a few weeks with us being happy and well loved before we call our vet to have him put to death at home. At least his last days will be with us and when it comes to the end, we have a vet who will come to our house to put him to sleep. That is where he is happiest. We don't know how long he has. Could be a week, a month... who knows.

I have lots of other, sunnier news to tell you but it might be a day or two.... I worked in our yard on Sunday doing a lot of manual labor trying to keep my mind off of my Booker. I think I may have hurt myself... I am so sore and painful with screaming muscles. It worked on Sunday to keep me from bawling my little eyes out only now I'm really sad AND phyically in a lot of pain. Hmmmm - maybe that wasn't such a good plan... heh, heh.