December

It is a lovely winter day outside. So lovely I have opened all the doors and windows so the wind can blow through the house and the cats and dogs can come and go as they please. Of course, that means I need to check the batteries in my weather radio and run down to the shelter to stock it with drinks and chairs and to drill the dogs to the storm shelter routine in case we have to make a run for it in the night because when it is that warm in December we can have bad storms in Alabama. Old Carly is no longer with us, so I don't have her to worry about her this time. She is perhaps the biggest reason I waited too late when the tornado came through last winter, she was too decrepit to make a run through the storm to the shelter. I think I will also find a nice rum drink recipe ... Prichard's Coconut Rum, with a Fjordhorse on the label, makes excellent storm weather medicine.

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I miss Carly. She was one special Labrador. Imagine the Dolly Parton of dogs with a French accent and you have the essence of Carly. She was the loveliest color, a light yellow with the smallest hint of color, but without any washed out look in skin or fur. When she was a pup, she would get my attention at the computer by sitting up on her bottom, like a toy poodle, balancing with her tail and a with a paw on my leg, touching me ever so lightly, and making the most atrocious, loud, inhaling sound! People who heard this sound often asked me if she was asthmatic! I will try to find a photo of her to use in this post. She was an incurable chow hound. That and the fact that she was very self-centered were her only faults. Most female Labbies are very open-armed, always looking out for their human and canine family. Carly's only concern was that if her family was safe and all was well her food bowl would get filled morning and night! She had a way about her that was absolutely adorable. The darlingest toy dog had nothing on Carly for out-right C-U-T-E. She had these big round googly eyes, very untypical for a well bred Labby, with so much expression. She had a dished face much like a Pointer with a very deep stop. She had the most beautifully shaped, thick, soft ears. She was a lovely bitch I would have been proud to have shown.

Unfortunately, she developed a painful bone problem that Dr. Milton corrected surgically. When Carly was operated on at Auburn, Steve teased Dr. Milton and all his students and hospital workers about the Tennessee-Alabama college football feud. When she was brought out to us the next day Carly strutted out with a royal blue bandage on one leg and a bright orange bandage on the other ... Auburn colors! Of course, with us being from Tennessee, it was an obvious and hilarious jab at Steve's incessant ribbing of the Alabama folk the day before. Even though I was supposed to keep Carly quiet after the operation, she often got a crazy, Labrador look in her eyes and let loose with a butt-tucking spell the likes of which I have never seen before or since! She continued to butt-tuck upon occasion for several years after the operation. When she got going I would have to yell for everyone to hug a tree or run to the porch lest she plow into someone and knock their legs out from underneath them! But as the years passed Carly developed even more bone problems and was in pain again the last years of her life. She was with us for 14 years.

Carly managed to teach all my dogs after her to eat like someone is about to steal their food away at any moment. I would have to separate each new pup from the others and never let them see the others eat to break this behavior from my dogs. Even Crickett, who is as easy-going and accepting of others as they come, will now eat like a maniac because Carly and all the others have behaved that way. And with this behavior, a worry about food, comes counter-surfing ... another behavior I detest!

Carly was at her funniest when she saw something that worried her. Steve and I will forever chuckle at one particular incident when we were driving around exploring the Cumberlands. Carly rose up from the back of our SUV to see where we were when we pulled up to a stop at an intersection. She then noticed a motorcyclist pull up behind us and was certain this fellow was a dire threat! Her nose slowly rose above her eyes, she wrinkled her brow, opened those eyes as big as she could, pursed her lips and let out a series of woof, woofs that has us cracking up to this day whenever we remember her. You had to have been there to appreciate Carly at her finest. She did nothing half-way. She was all out hilarious even in the most simple mannerisms.
Carly was truly one of the most precious beings and we will always remember her knowing we were so lucky to have had her in our lives. RIP lovely lady.

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I had another dream a couple of weeks ago. It was a doozy. We were at a picnic at a park (it reminded me of a picnic we went to many years ago when we lived in San Jose when my Labby, Caper, went up to greet Yvette - she hates dogs and watched Caper come up to her and didn't even move ... $*%!# - and Caper stuck her nose right on Yvette's cigarette and burned the heck out of her muzzle). In the dream I was gazing at a nearby pond and decided to take a walk along the bank. A fellow in our group called out to me asking if his daughter could walk with me. I said, "Of course!" So I took her hand and we set off on our walk. A ways from the other people in our party, we stopped to skip rocks and watch the ducks when we noticed something huge rising out of the water across from us. It was the face of a monster - a big monster - about a quarter of it's head rose up, kind of tilted to one side, just enough that we could tell it was something very strange and frightening. Then it sunk back into the water. We watched in horror as it rose up again, this time it was moving towards us, slowly, and walking towards shallower water so we could see its awful form. At first we were petrified, then we got our wits about us and started running - fast. Then we remembered the folks at the picnic and yelled to each other to head their way to join them and warn them of the horrible monster ... then I woke up ... does this not sound remarkably much like my alligator dream from before?

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Sparrow, my one little hen, is still with us. The chicken run is nearly finished (gosh it's taking a long time to build). We have been doing something else almost every weekend this fall so we haven't been able to spend many days on it. It is so well built I have considered turning it into a horse shed! In the meantime, Sparrow has been sleeping under the dog ramp to the front porch in a pile of hay I made for her after I found her sleeping there on the ground. With no other chickens to cuddle up with in the tree branches, she decided that between the cold and the owls at night she would rather sleep there. I worry about possums getting her, but that would be a problem in the trees too. She is better protected with our dogs going in and out of the house at all hours in the spot she has chosen to sleep. Soon, she will have a house of her own and this spring she will have buddies to pal around with.

I am having trouble deciding what breeds of chickens I want to get. Looking at all the colorful breeds is like looking in the window of a candy shop, too many to choose from! My favorite breed is Blue Wheaten Ameraucanas. But the breed I am most interested in is Buff Plymouth Rocks. But the sweet, feather-legged Buff Brahmas and Salmon Favorelles absolutely endear me to them. And the gorgeous Golden Campines and Silver-Spangled Hamburgs catch my eye every time. And the colorful Blue-Laced Red Wyandottes and Vorwerks are intriguing as well. Do I get a couple of each for eye candy or do I concentrate on one or two breeds to help support a rare breed or two? I may as well put the breed names in a hat ...

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Solly continues to amaze me. I love that horse! How many times have I said that and I haven't even had her a year. A few weeks ago Steve and I took her to Shari's for a playday for Shari's students. We had a blast. Solly was good as gold and did everything I asked of her even with other students on their horses milling about in the paddock going by at various speeds. Then we all went on a trail ride. Solly, who much prefers to be first horse on a trail, was on her best behavior even when the horse coming up behind her was often a stranger to her. With Shari's help she is a great Dorina replacement, with a very similar personality to Dorina, but even better if that can be possible.

Last week we went on a trail ride. Shari was on her beautiful Palomino Quarab, Dancer, and Sara rode her bay Quarab who was Avery's mare, Firestar's, first foal, and I rode my Solly. The weather was awesome - slightly chilly with the bluest of blue skies. I missed Kimberly, she was in school ... trail rides don't seem complete without her little smirk and giggle. The leaves had already fallen so you could clearly see through the forest. We rode about 8 miles of the Pine Torch Trail. We turned around at the creek where we rode the horses into for a drink. The Quarabs made a bit of a big deal of having to go down the notorious jagged brick stepped creek bed while Solly and I patiently waited. Then Solly rode down to the bank with just a smidgeon of hesitation to get a drink and cool her feet. And for some reason, she didn't paw at the water. Usually she paws like a maniac splashing water all over me, her saddle, and everyone within 10 feet of us. She probably does it when she is hot. Anyways, I wasn't in the mood to deal with it so I was grateful she didn't start splashing. The pale, dry, Big-Leaf Magnolia leaves lay on the ground like patches of snow. The shiney, green needles of the hemlock's branches gave color to the brown forest. Every once in a while we came across bright magenta berries, holly trees or lichen covered rocks for a bit more color. Solly went first, last or middle horse with no problems at all in any position. Her bright spirit and fuzzy ears before me made the day that much more enjoyable. It was another wonderful horsey day that reminds us, after writing numerous $100+ checks to various people, why we have the silly beasties!

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Steve has bronchitis. Despite being sick we went out to buy gifts for our Christmas angels. We get different children every year. We only got one child this year, a little 7 year old girl. For many years we also got to buy presents for a lovely little lady who required special care. This year, Steve looked for her name on the list but it wasn't there. We feared something bad had happened to her, it broke our hearts because we had grown to love her over the years although we never got to meet her. Steve asked about her and the lady that collects for the angels looked into it for us. She found out that something good had happened ... she got adopted by the people who were fostering her and looking after her! We will miss her.

Merry Christmas angel, wherever you are!

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The pecans are dropping their last nuts in the winds today. I have filled my bucket and will be munching on them for months. Mmmm. Nom, nom, nom.

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My ponies are so fuzzy and cute this time of year. I have got to get my camera fixed. Maybe I can scout up a nice photo from last year. Someone on the Fjord-L wrote, "They are in their winter jammies." So descriptive, I love it!

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Merry Christmas everyone!!!
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