The loss of a dear friend…

I firmly believe in life animals are put in place to help us learn about death, among other things, and they teach us how to mourn and move on.

Well, for 4 or 5 days Buddy, the neighborhood golden retriever, failed to come for breakfast and dinner – as we fed them faithfully morning and night. Mind you Buddy’s hearing was bad, he was older, and he didn’t move around as fast as he used to, but he always came for food.

Yesterday, as my sister and I started out to run, our neighbor called my daddy over to the fence and told him they’d found Buddy.

Let me pause here to introduce Black. Black, he is a black labrador retriever, and they were inseparable. Black is a bit younger than Buddy, but Buddy taught him all the places to go for food/water and how to hunt baby rabbits, deer, and move fast from skunks which didn’t work all the time, laugh!

We noticed Black stopped hunting, and only came for food and went straight back to Paul’s sister’s trailer. He didn’t move from there.

When Paul told Daddy they had found Buddy, he was under the trailer with Black laying beside him.

Now we have grieved a lot over the loss of Buddy, but Black seems to be taking it harder. His grief is deeper. Buddy had began to smell, that’s how they found him, but Black never waned, never left his side, only to eat.

I suspect Black won’t be far behind Buddy, not because of his age, but because of his loss. The loss of his dear friend, Buddy.

Rest in peace my Bud-man, we all miss you barking at strangers, chasing cyclist (even though you had no teeth and couldn’t bite them, they didn’t know it, and we’d laugh as they pedaled double time to get away from you, roflobo!).

We’ll miss your presence in the drive way as we arrive home, we’ll miss the clumber-some ways you jumped on us, sat on us, and the time I had to pull a bone out of your mouth that you managed to get lodged in the roof of your mouth. Or the time to had to doctor you up after getting into a fight with another dog, or when you got hit and I had to do ‘therapy’ every day on your leg for a week so you’d not be so stiff.

We’ll just miss you and hope you visit us in our dreams!

Another fall…

Ok, so no one in my family has never, ever called me Grace, for one reason, I’m constantly falling.

Yesterday, I go feed/water the chickens and notice one of my hen has 11 eggs and she isn’t sitting on them, so I go gather the eggs (in my shirt), go get some hay and as I’m ducking to enter the pen to put them in a nest, bam, it happens, I trip and I had two choices (1) drop the eggs and catch myself, or (2) hit the ground and save the eggs. I, of course, saved the eggs, and planted my left knee in the ground. I was thankful for two things, (1) the ground was soft from all the rain (thank you God!), and (2) it was on the ‘good’ knee, which might not be so good if I keep falling on it!

I go gather up my two brooding hens who will sit anytime of the day, month, year, and put them on the eggs and to let them decide who’s going to be the momma. Wouldn’t you know it, neither one of them want the freakin’ eggs! Now what kind of brooding hens are they? Usually they fight over a nest of eggs, but nope, not yesterday and not this morning. So I let them out of the pen and I’m hoping beyond hope, one will decide she’d like to be momma and when I get home she’ll be sitting. We’ll see! If there are no takers, I’m afraid I’ll have to disgard them, and I hate to do that because they belong to Chester, my gorgeous Americauna.

I just don’t have the time to incubate them, so….

I do have one more brooding hen, my game hen, Topper (named that only because she’s a blue top game hen – and I couldn’t think of anything else at the time, grin). Only problem is, I can’t just pick Top up and put her in the nest, she’ll eat me alive, remember, game hen, they aren’t nice chickens, AT ALL! So, maybe I’ll wait until she goes to roost and I’ll go get her and put her on top of the eggs, maybe that’ll work. I just hate to put her over them because I have to fight her to get my hands on them to tame them down, urgh.

Anyway, maybe Angel or Muffy will decide they really want to be the momma and go sit.

Until next time….

Cleared for running…

Saw my chiropractor this morning, and he has cleared me for running Sunday. THANK YOU GOD! I was going stir crazy not being able to run all week. I’m now officially a week behind in my training, argh!

I was also cleared for a yoga class this Tuesday, yeah! I’m so excited.

Now, I just need to find a second job to pay for the continuous use of the chiropractor. After 2 visits, $102. Dang, what did he have to do? But I’m not going to complain anymore, my back feels wonderful and I can breath and that’s all that matters, for now anyway.

I did make an appt to see him Wednesday, ’cause I always pull my tail-bone out when I do yoga…yuck, I know, but it makes the rest of my body feel good.

(Donna, I’m running Sunday after church, call if you wanna meet me and do the trace. It’s a 1.5 mile, not including wu/cd, about 1/4 mile each, so it’s a short and easy one, and I’m sure it’ll be slow due to being off this week and still nursing the rib head.)

Until next time….

Angry rib-head…

This is a story about my rib-head, so enjoy….

Saturday we all load up and go to Tylertown for our annual July 4th family get together at my uncle’s house, and to introduce Lily to all the family.

I’m in the house helping get the food on the tables and my mom yells “Your Aunt Dee and Uncle Milton are here and they have something for you.” I wash my hands and head outside thinking my aunt had made some wonderful dish (she’s Filipino, and can cook a brick-bat), and as I rounded the house, there it was, a chicken carrier with a chicken in it. My Uncle proudly pulls out this beautiful white, black-tipped Japanese bantam rooster. He was a beauty! I give hugs and ask how much I owe him and they say nothing it’s your birthday present. Now I’m really excited! I move him out of the carrier and put him in one of my uncle’s little pens out behind his barn and feed and water him. He’s good until we leave!

After all the fellowship, food and fish lies, we pack up and I almost forget my rooster. I go running around back and get him out of the pen and put him back in the carrier.

Needless to say, I think this was his first time in a carrier because he didn’t know how to stand up in it, so I took him out and held him on top of the carrier all the way home (60 miles). He was a happy little camper and slept most of the way home. He’d had a long day and was tired, no doubt, as were we.

I get him home, but him in his new run and he makes all the rosters start crowing. Mind you, he doesn’t even have his crow yet. He’s only 4/5 months old, he’ll start crowing soon enough I suspect.

At dusk, I go get him a girl and put her in with him, so he’s not alone. Chickens are flock animals, they don’t like to be alone, just in case you were wondering.

Then Sunday morning, I get up, go feed/water, and he’s as happy as can be. He’s still not sure about the hen in the run with him, but he’ll learn – trust me!

I go inside, very proud of him. I take my shower and get ready for church. As I bend over to reach for my church clothes, I hear something pop and I can’t move!

I scream for Michelle and she tries to work it out, but it’s no use. She never learned how to put rib-heads back in while she worked with Dr. Rapetti (God rest his soul!). She does her best, and I’m able to stand up, but I end up going to church with fioricet and flexiril and an ice pack.

I spend the rest of the weekend nursing the back. Unable to run, unable to do anything but sit up straight, or lay flat.

Turns out me holding the rooster all the way home was what pulled the rib-head out. I was in such a strain and didn’t know it.

Now I have to find a chiropractor to put it back in so I can get back to running! TODAY!

Oh, btw, I named my rooster, Gemmi, cause I’m a Gemini and that was as unique as I could get. Laugh!

Until next time….