We’re having Ole Man Winter visit the farm today; wind chills are around zero, temps are around 10 above F and the sun is playing hide and seek…mainly hide. We’ve been to the barn to count noses, feed animals, check water and now it’s after lunch, time to do…well, what needs to be done is yet more paperwork dealing with Dave’s death. However, I am so weary of paperwork; ‘deed, what I’d really like is to run away from home if only for a night or two. Just to get a different perspective, to blow the cobwebs out, to have
a meal food that’s more than a handful of nuts or jellybeans or, for breakfast, Grapenuts cereal. It seems I can’t get away from nuts -smile-.
It takes me a while to get everyone ready for the barn trek. The dogs all have sweaters and I have layers; by the time I get their sweaters on them, I’ve worked up a sweat, both from the exertion and from continually saying, “Stand still; wait a minute, stop that, move please!” Everyone is excited, they know what’s coming and it makes them happy. All that is, save Jake, my Prodigal Son Border Collie, who is too dogly to wear a sweater. I think. At least, I’ve never tried putting a sweater on him. Jake has been coming here for
around a year a while, can’t really remember, and now that it’s harsh winter, Jakes sleeps inside but still deigns to go to the barn for chores. He needs to keep an eye on the sheep and horses, you see. Jake is a Rambling Man and as a matter of fact, he and the Blue Heeler bitch on the farm behind us, just had a litter of puppies. As soon as I’m able to get off the farm, I’m going to buy a huge bag of dog food to contribute to their table. The folks who own the proud Mom hardly have two pennies to rub together so a bag of dog food will help Mom and puppies alike. BTW, anyone want a beautiful working dog? Those puppies are likely to have more brains than you and I put together and as both parents are beautiful, the puppies are button cute as well. Photos asap.
I’d ask Dave, “want me to take Jake to the animal shelter?” and Dave would always say, “no, but dadgummit! I hate having a dog that’s smarter than me!” Jake comes and goes, as he wills and as always, and we’re growing accustomed to each other’s ways.