Category: Farmtastic Stories

Admittedly this is our favorite part of the blog – where we get to share our stories of farm life, critter antics, and just our general musings. We didn’t grow up on a farm, so it’s one big crazy adventure.

Farm Life · Farmtastic Stories

It’s a Close-the-Gate Kind of Day

My Farmtastic Life4 Comments

Life at the farm keeps Cowboy and me on our toes.  It seems between farm life and the critters, we are busy bees.  There is always food (dog, cat, and horse, oh my) to be bought, stalls to be scooped, and fences to be mended.  Well, you get the idea.  It’s a busy place, and the project list is never ending.  I tell folks all the time that while we love country life, it takes more time and money than we ever anticipated.

That said, there is nothing better than sitting on the porch looking out at the hills and horses, a breeze in the air with a wind chime serenade, and a glass of citrus iced tea in hand. The truth is, the farm is our favorite place on earth.   We feel so grateful and blessed to live this crazy farmtastic life, which is why our favorite days are what we call close-the-gate days.

Close-the-gate is our way of saying no one comes in, no one goes out, and we get to enjoy the farm with our critters all to ourselves.  While we love visitors, we absolutely cherish a little peace and quiet.

On these days, Cowboy is likely to be cooking up something lucscious on the grill, cats and dogs will be sprawled out napping, and I’ll have a batch of tea going on the stove while I flip through my stack of books for that perfect mystery fix.  Sometimes we’ll give the horses much needed baths,  laughing and getting ourselves soaked in the process.  Or sometimes we’ll  take the pups on a walk around the farm, stopping to inspect wildflowers while they inspect jack rabbit trails.

Farm Photo - Gate with sunflowers
Close-the-gate, enjoy the day, smell the flowers.

In short, we simply enjoy the day and each other.  We live for and prep for close-the-gate days.  We know when it’s coming and make sure our biggest chores are done, the fridge and pantry are stocked with fresh ingredients, and the critters are all set for some munching of their own.  It’s a day to count your blessings, and here at the farm we use all of our fingers, toes, paws, and hooves to count them up one by one.

So whether you live on a farm, in the city, or the suburbs, we highly recommend a close-the-gate day to refresh the spirit.  As we enter the hottest days of the year, take some time to soak it all in, and let us know how you enjoy your close-the-gate day.

Be blessed!

 

 

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Farm Friends

My Farmtastic Life4 Comments

Well sometimes things at the farm just don’t work as we planned, and so we pull up our cowboy and cowgirl boots and figure it out. Such was the case with our dear little Yeller Feller.

When Yeller Feller showed up at the farm, he was skittish, and Cowboy and I worked hard to get him to trust us and let us give him good scratches behind the ears. Well once that little guy got a taste of affection, he decided we humans could be pretty nice. He was hooked.

Yeller Feller hung out at the barn and stayed under foot. He also decided he wanted to have a kitty friend in our best pal Nightmare, a.k.a Mare (Yes, I know. He’s neither a horse or a female, but Mare it is.). Anyway, Mare was having none of it.

Now we’ve had our share of critters at the farm and gone through the introduction process with all the proper howdy-dos, and we know that they generally work things out. In fact country folks tell us all the time, “Awe, don’t worry about it. They’ll figure it out.”

But this neurotic farm mamma tried to help them work it out, giving love and attention to both, but it was just not working. Mare, who is the barn-cat-in-chief, was changing rapidly. He wouldn’t come when called. (Yes, he is part dog and does come when called.) He wouldn’t let us pet him. He wouldn’t come in at night, which is our routine that lets this farm mama sleep peacefully.

Mare started hiding in the barn attic, where the Texas heat was rising, and so we had to figure out a plan B. Now, if you know me at all, you know parting with a critter is something that is nearly impossible for me to do, but as I grow in this farmtastic journey, I’ve also learned that I owe it to the ones we have, all sixteen of them, to keep them safe, sound, and happy.

Photo - Dad and his three cats.
Dad and his three kitties. Just call him Dr. Dad-little. He loves them and they love him.

Mom and Dad to the rescue! Mom and Dad have two outside kitties, Waylon and Willie, who are laid back brothers, and my mom and dad thought they wouldn’t mind Yeller Feller as a new brother. Plus, Dad’s always wanted a yellow tabby cat, and as luck would have it, Yeller fit the bill. (If you haven’t guessed yet, I come by this animal thing naturally.)

Anyway, Dad came and packed up Mr. Feller and carted him home. They spent a couple of days working through howdy-dos with all the proper stares and inspections. Mom and Dad spent loads of porch time with Yeller giving him attention to teach him where his new home was.  Gram even fell in love with the little guy, and cats are not her thing.

Well wouldn’t you know it, Yeller Feller caught on like a champ. Ate up every pet and ear scratch, and even discovered tree climbing. Although, Mom says he’s not too good at it yet. He’s having one big dandy time.

Cat Photo - Yeller climbs a tree
Yeller Feller tries to climb a tree. Let’s hope he gets the hang of it.

So my heart rests easy knowing that Yeller came by his fur-ever family via the farm. So on our Meet the Farm page, Yeller has moved form a fur-kid to a farm friend. I guess technically he’s now my brother, since we share parents. Nothing new for me, the best siblings have four legs.

Adventures Away From the Farm · Farmtastic Stories

It’s Hip to Be Square

My Farmtastic Life2 Comments

I’ve had a thing for small town squares as long as I can remember.  I love the nostalgia of it all.  The local mom-and-pop shops, the casual atmosphere, and the architecture of the buildings.  Life just seems simpler on a square.  Through the years as I’ve drug Cowboy from square to square through Texas and beyond, I’ve always thought, “Wouldn’t it be great to live in a town like this?”

Well since moving to the farm, now we do!  Granted, we’re several miles outside of town, but the square is close enough for a quick stroll, checking out the Saturday farmer’s market, or popping into my favorite shops for that perfect gift.  But I have to say one of my all time favorite activities every year is the Fourth of July Parade that comes right through town and passes in front of our courthouse.

When the patriotic music is playing and our town, state, and country pride is on display, it just about feels like you are in a Norman Rockwell painting. The kids bring bags to collect candy being thrown from the entries, vintage cars and tractors shine like new, and we all rally together for a few moments in pure happiness and thankfulness to live where we do.

So to honor my small town, here are some great photos from this year’s entries.  We’d love to hear how you celebrated the Fourth in your town, so please be sure to share your stories and photos, too!

The parade enters the square, led by a family of military veterans.
Getting prepared to start the parade with our national anthem.
No parade is complete without our local heroes. Spark the fire dog is always a hit!
Gotta love the old cars. Willys are a favorite for Cowboy.
Fossil Rim Wildlife Center, an amazing local place, driving their giraffe van!
Love the old car with the courthouse in the back.
Here comes the tractor – pulling some wonderfully patriotic folks.
Love the patriotic people and their pooch. Every parade needs a pooch!
An oldie but goodie. Farmalls are another favorite for Cowboy.
The local 4H club gets in on the act.
The local churches are big supporters of the community. It’s great to see them in the parade every year.
What’s a parade without horses? Especially love their trusty heeler leading the way. (See if you can spot the local beekeepers on the left!)
And every set of horses needs a little sparkle as they bring up the rear.
Love the bunting that lines the town buildings announcing Independence Day!

 

 

P.S. – Cowboy jokes that my perfect spot in this world is 100 acres on a square.  Needless to say, we’ve yet to find that unicorn, but that is perfectly okay.  The farm makes me happier than I’ve ever been.

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Horse vs. Post

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It’s been a wild couple of weeks around the farm, to say the least.  First, Yeller Feller spent his designated time at the vet to get his shots and get neutered.  Great news, he is a healthy little guy.  However, he and Nightmare are still working out the pecking order in and around the barn.  There’s been some hopping, some growling, and some swatting. (We are hopeful it will settle out soon, because this farm mamma likes to have happy fur-kids.)

The big news has been with Sweet Suzy Q.  She tested out her karate skills and took out a 4×4 post.  While I didn’t see it happen, I suspect she got in a situation where the fellas were annoying her, she bucked and took out the post.  While she is a black belt, she did a number on her back right leg, requiring over 20 stitches and resulting in two weeks of rest and healing.

Farm Photo - Busted 4x4 post
Horse vs. Post. Suzy beat the post, but the post left its mark on her, too.

As I’ve said before, these things don’t happen during business hours.  And to add a new twist, she not only did this late at night, but she waited until Cowboy wasn’t home.  I guess she just wanted to see just how much her mamma could cowgirl up.  (Thanks for the challenge, sweet girl!)

Once again, we owe great thanks to our amazing equine vets at Peak Performance Equine Hospital.  Our regular vet was out of town, but he called me right back and got in touch with the vet on call.  After exchanging texts and photos (another amazing way technology helps in a not so technical life), we decided the best bet was a night time visit.

Since Cowboy was still a couple of hours away, I called my dad in for some help and an extra set of hands.  As always, Dad came in a snap when I called him.  (Yes, I’m a daddy’s girl. More on that later.) We got Suzy all prepped and ready and waiting for the vet.  What a relief to see the headlights of the vet truck pull into the drive.

Out in the driveway with headlights and barn lights shining, the vet worked his magic and had Suzy stitched up in no time. Great news – the bone looked good and she missed her tendon. (Oh, and thank goodness for the drugs.  Suzy was a little dopey but she stood like a champ. Truth be told, I probably could have used a little something myself.)

Horse Photo - Ranger, Smokey, and River
The fellas keeping watch over Suzy. They don’t love that she is not out with them.

The doc  was patient as I asked lots of questions and took notes on exactly how to take care of our Q so that we could make sure she would be on the mend. We’ve been on the twice-a-day antibiotic regiment, changing wrappings, and trying to give sweet girl some extra loving.  Admittedly she’s getting a little stir crazy, so today I took her out on her lead rope and let her nibble some fresh grass.

The vet comes again this week and will remove the stitches and give us an update.  We’ve been so grateful for all of the prayers and concerns for Suzy.  All is looking great.  We checked in last week with the vet and did X-rays as a precaution, and the bone looked great.  And best of all, there is no pain.

Horse Photo - Sweet Suzy Q in the pasture
Suzy enjoying some munching in the pasture today. She needed to stretch her legs.

So as we keep the adventures rolling here at the farm, we hope they take a turn for the less dramatic.  Right now we’re waiting to see how big the cucumbers in the garden grow, and that is enough drama for this week.

P.S. – Sweet Suzy Q rocked out her vet wrap as we got her teal with stars.  And when I say we, I mean me.  I’ll take the responsibility for this one.  Cowboy is off the hook.

Horse Photo - Sweet Suzy Q
Suzy rocking the teal and star vet wrap. No one says a girl shouldn’t look pretty.

 

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

PSA: The Farm Is Full

My Farmtastic Life1 Comment

This is a public service announcement to critters everywhere: the farm is full.  We love y’all dearly, but for the love of all that is country life,  we simply can’t take one more right now.  When we lost our dear sweet Abby girl earlier this year, we were down to 16 beloved fur-kids of all shapes and sizes.  Cowboy and I were content to let the number dwindle on its own over time, but alas the animals had other plans.

Cat Photo - Yeller Feller peeking out from behind the fence.
Yeller Feller peeking our behind the wild verbena, contemplating coming in for dinner.

Enter Yeller Feller.  (Yes, you can thank Cowboy for his name.) A yellow tabby tomcat with  no tail.  We’d seen him from time to time around the farm, but he’d dart away quickly and was clearly a wild kitty.  Until, that is, Cowboy started feeding him.  Yes, you heard me correctly, Cowboy was the softy this time.  He started putting some extra kitty kibble out at night and low and behold Yeller Feller started getting brave and coming around.

He’s not quite sure about us just yet, but Cowboy has made time to sit in the chair outside the horse stalls and get closer to Yeller, and Yeller has rewarded him by letting him get a pet in.  We’ve now progressed to ear scratches, and he’s beginning to follow us around the farm during chore time.  He’s still not totally sure we are not going to eat him, but day in and day out, Yeller Feller is making his life on the farm.

So as soon as we can get his trust a bit more, we’ll be off to the vet for a round of shots and a neutering. Yeller Feller will live at the farm with fresh food and water and lots of pets as long as he wants to.  And likely over time, in the night time hours he’ll find his way into the barn with Nightmare to avoid the boogie man hours in the evening.

Which leads me to the second part of my PSA, people please spay and neuter your pets and don’t just dump them out to fend for themselves.  I’m not sure if Yeller Feller ever had a family or if he is the product of wild kitties himself, but he’s clearly heard the underground animal hotline that says the farm is an excellent place to call home.  While we love our critters here, what breaks my heart most of all is that so many of our critters lost their families or never had them to start with, all because folks did not care enough.

I truly believe that how we treat the least among us is what resides in our hearts.  We owe it to our animal friends to give them the best life we can, and not to abandon them.  It’s not fair to them, and it passes the responsibility down the road.  Yeller Feller, you certainly found a good road.  We’re glad you joined us, but please let the hotline know there is currently no room at the inn.

Cat Photo - Yeller Feller the kitty licking his lips
Yeller says, “Kitty food is mmm-mmm good.”

P.S. I secretly wonder if our beloved fur-kids who have crossed the rainbow bridge lead the next one to us.  Abby was yellow, and maybe she thought we were getting too many grey pets around here and needed to even the score.  

 

Farm Life · Farmtastic Stories

For the Love of H2O

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We all know that water is important.  Heck, our bodies are mostly made up of water, and we can all live much longer without food than water. (And let’s face it, some of us around the farm could use a little break from the food).

Since we moved to the farm four years ago, we have a whole new appreciation for good ole H20.  When we were in the suburbs, water restrictions and drought times meant no one was watering their shrubs.  And in the high heat of a Texas summer, water restrictions were inevitable.

Now that we are out on the backroads, we’ve gained a whole new appreciation for this lifeline on the farm.  Country life comes with wells, water troughs, and rain water cisterns.  We love the wet stuff around here because it keeps our animals and our plants watered.

But, if I’m totally honest, there is one part of the rain that I am not so fond of.  And that quite simply is the M-U-D.  I do have pink mucking boots, which are critical in the mud (not so much the pink part, but definitely the rubber boot part).  But holy cats, the mud can make chores a wee bit tougher for this not so graceful farmgirl.

Horse Photo - River next to the water cistern
River says he loves the H2O and all the water cisterns that feeds this trough. Heck, he’s even named after water.

Here’s the top five reasons why this girl loves the rain, but the mud, not so much:

  1. Horse love to roll in the mud.  Brown horses get lighter, and gray horses turn into bay horses.
  2. Sofas and anything fabric gets covered in blankets, as doggy paws are the perfect hiding spots for mud.
  3. God bless washable floors.  There is no room for carpet at the farm, not even those super cute area rugs.  Carpet and rugs equal dollars on the floor covered in mud.
  4. Mucking in the mud.  Well, it’s just yucky and a little tricky.  The goal is to avoid the slip and slide.
  5. Barn cats who are prissy don’t like mud on their paws.  But somehow they seem to float.  Oh, if only I could learn this skill.

All joking aside, we love the rain on the farm.  It’s a limited resource and we are grateful for every blessed drop.  Our great state of Texas is in a drought, which just reminds us of how precious water is.  So we’ll take the muddy horses, muddy paws, and mud on the floor.  For we know that water keeps all the living creatures living on the farm.

So we ask you to say a little prayer for Texas and all the drought stricken states across the country.  We could all use a little more H2O in our lives.

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Free Dogs Are Never Free

My Farmtastic Life3 Comments

Well if you’ve been following the farm’s Facebook page or read the blog regularly, you know that our beloved hound dog and Maybelle’s best pal, Goober,  recently went in for some surgery, as the vet suspected it might be the big C.  Well, thank goodness for an astute vet, as it was cancer.  But the great news for us, and for dear old Goobs, is that our wonderful vet got all of the cancer.  And as far as cancers go, it’s not a terrible one, if such a thing exists. It doesn’t metastasize, so really our job is to watch for more lumps and bumps and get them removed when and where needed.  (We love our vet, but I’m pretty sure he loves us, too.  Wink. Wink.)

This all all leads me to a running joke we have here at the farm, free dogs are never free.  You see dear old Goobs showed up at the farm three years ago now (you can read about his adventure here), and it was love at first site.  That poor pooch was not going anywhere, as he had found his furever home, and both he and I knew it, and we’ve been a bonded pair ever since.

However, in his short time with us, he’s had three surgeries for various lumps and bumps (this is the first cancer, though), and when he showed up he was also heart worm positive, so we had that treated and cured as well.  Can you say cha-ching?  Goober hit the jackpot, and we had to hit our savings account.

 

However, in the case of rescue puppies (and cats, and horses, and donkeys), I wouldn’t take a million bucks for any of them.  You see most of the critters here on the farm are rescues of one sort of another.  Most of our horses are American mustangs, born in the wild and adopted from the Bureau of Land Management.  The cats all just had a way of showing up in our lives; in fact, I’ve never ever gone looking for a cat.  The donkeys were a gift from some dear friends, and the most of the pups are rescues.  It seems we’ve all just found our way to each other.

Speaking of finding their way to us, several of our friends have hypothesized that the animal kingdom has put out a sort of  signal that the farm is a safe place to turn up.  No matter domestic or wild, you’ll find grub, water, and love.  Our vet likes to joke that if he knew our real address, we’d have even more. (Thank goodness for a post office box!)

But I think the real culprit for our population are some very special friends.  Before we moved to the farm we had a sweet pooch named Petey, who we affectionately called Needy Petey.  While I loved that little guy, he had some issues.  He had come from abuse and while he had lots of love to give, his behavior could be a bit quirky to say the least. In fact, he used to love to mark his spot, which often meant whizzing on his sisters.  Poor soul just could not aim.  Friends used to tell me all the time, “He’s sweet, but I wouldn’t keep him.”  Clearly, I’m going to need to write about Petey someday.  I digress …

Petey has since passed over the rainbow bridge, and I firmly believe he and all of our fur-children who have passed before and after him continue to guide new “kids” into our life.  It seems the ones who alway need us most and who are the perfect fit for us find us, and in return we find ourselves needing them right back.  (Check out our Meet the Farm page to see our rainbow bridge fur-kids.)

So while free dogs are never really free, no fur-kid ever is, and that is okay.  What they give back to us is more than we could ever repay them.  They make our lives full, and for me, in many ways, they make me who I am.  For that, I am eternally grateful.

P.S. – If you are looking for a pet to add to your family, please make sure to check out your local shelters.  You could find your million-dollar pal.

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Oh, Sweet Sleep

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It’s been a busy vet week here at the farm, and our four-legged children are keeping us hopping.  First, we took Maybelle in for the usual round of shots.  Blessedly, that was uneventful, other than the fact that Maybelle loves to get in the car but starts to spin like a maniac when you try to get her out of the car.  Go figure.

And since Goober is Maybelle’s best pal, we took him along for the journey.  Two are better than one, plus Goober had some odd little growths we wanted the vet to double check.  Well as it turned out, the spots all needed to be removed and the vet was concerned it was the dreaded C word, aka cancer.  So like good parents, we scheduled him right away and had those puppies removed.  We need to keep our Goobs happy and healthy.

Which leads me to my sleep deprivation, as I’m sure moms of two- and four-leggeds can relate.  Goober was in and out of the vet in one day, and was super happy to be back amongst his pals.  However, he’s got stitches in multiple places, but mostly on his undercarriage, hence it’s not so comfy to lay down.  Well we thought he had himself settled for the evening, and so we tucked the farm in for a good night’s rest.

Not so fast.  At 11 p.m. I awoke to hear Goober moaning.  Just sad little sighs and moans, as if to say, “Mom, I don’t really feel so great.”  Not helping the matter was that he was wearing a standard issue cone of annoyance in order to keep him from licking away on his fresh wounds.  At first, I thought he was just stuck, as he had his cone wedged under our bed.  (Yes, he really did.) But not so.  He just felt badly.

Dog Photo - Goober with his cone
Goober rocking out the cone. None to thrilled, but reaching the point of acceptance.

So as not to disturb Cowboy, I took the Goobs out to the sofa where we twisted and turned, propped up with pillows, tried with cone on and cone off to get peace.  He’d lay with his head on my shoulder and just about the time my heavy eye lids would finally drift off to sleep here would come another moan. (Not to mention the surgery had given him a lovely case of doggy gas.  Poor guy, and my poor nose.)

I was stuck in that spot between heartbreak and begging for just five minutes of sleep.   Finally sometime between 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. he gave it up and finally tuckered out with my hand on his head.  (But not before one of the feline kiddos also decided to upchuck on the floor. Really???? ) Let me just say thank goodness for comfy sofas, tough stain-proof floors, and antibacterial wipes.

I am happy to report, we got some good meds at the vet today and Goober is wagging and feeling much better.  He’s also become proficient in carrying around his cone.  Yes, he still runs into the door frame, but is figuring out how to wiggle around to make it work.  I love my four-leggeds, but this farm mama needs some shut eye.  Here’s to hoping Goobs is up for it too.  Putting meds in a cheese snack now, just in case.

P.S. – Please keep Goober in your thoughts and prayers.  We’re hoping for a good report.

 

Farm Life · Farmtastic Stories

Spring Is for the Birds

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So I think it’s safe to declare that spring has sprung around the farm. (Oh Lord, please don’t fail me now.)  And let me just say after this winter with the ice and freezing temperatures, me, Cowboy, and all of the critters are singing a glory hallelujah to that.

One of the best indicators that spring has arrived is our annual welcoming of the hummingbirds.  They arrive at the end of March and drink generously from our feeders until October.  It’s the time of year when sugar is on our grocery list every week.  The local checkout clerks must think I am a baking fool.

With the arrival of the hummingbirds also comes one of our challenges.  Hummingbirds in the barn.  Inevitably, one, or heaven forbid two, will flutter in. The problem, as Cowboy has discovered with much research, is that when they panic they fly up.  Which is precisely where they cannot get out of the barn.  This results in numerous antics, as we move equipment and other stuff out of the way to make a clear path and hang a feeder right outside the door.  You can imagine how this thrills Cowboy, but let me assure you he is out there trying just as hard to save the little buggers as I am.

And if we can’t get the little guys to leave on there own, they will eventually run out of steam and gracefully flutter to the ground.  The challenge then becomes do we see it before Nightmare the barn cat.  I’m sad to say he’s beat us to it a couple of times in the past, and proudly presented us with his latest find.  Not fun, not fun at all.

But tonight was a great night for the first hummingbird-in-the-barn of the season.  Cowboy and I cleared out the barn, hung the feeder, and sat and waited. We watched as he flitted from light fixture to light fixture and then finally wore his little self out.  We sprinted to action, and I quickly scooped him up, much to Nightmare’s displeasure.

Tiny hummingbird regaining his strength at the feeder after he wore himself out flying around the barn.
The little guy gets his strength back and can hold on, just before he flies away.
One our many hummingbird feeders. This one near a newly planted Lady Banks rose bush. Look closely and you’ll see a little guy perching. (And yes, the fire hydrants is one of Cowboy’s yard art pieces.)

It’s an amazing experience to hold one of these tiny creatures in your hands.  I took him outside to the feeder and gently pushed his little beak into the feeder, then watched as he drank and drank.  He finally started to get his strength and gripped his tiny toes around the perch, and I could feel his body warm up.  And then it happened.  He sat there, turned and looked at us as if to say, “Thanks dear friends.  Much obliged.”  (In my mind they have very good manners.) And then flew off to meet his other hummingbird pals whizzing and whirring around the variety of feeders.

Cowboy and I smile at these moments because in some small way, you feel like you made a difference.  May you all get your chance to feel the wonder of the hummingbird this spring.

P.S.  You know your man is a gentle soul when you see him on ladders waving brooms and such in an effort to shepherd a hummingbird to safety.  Truly blessed here at the farm.

Adventures Away From the Farm · Farmtastic Stories

Donkey Basketball

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I love small town life for a whole host of reasons. The mom and pop businesses that dot the square and the main drag, the friendly greetings you get as you mosey about town, and neighbors helping neighbors. But who knew my small town would also host donkey basketball?

Yep, it’s true. On a recent weekday night, darn near the whole town turned out at the local school gym for a rousing game of donkey basketball. We all piled into the gym, and the bleachers were a buzz as we watched local leaders, school teachers, and public servants line up as they awaited their wild rides. And in they came. Adorable donkeys of all sizes complete with rubber shoes.

The hooting and hollering ensued as we all rooted for our favorites. Helmets on, the riders mounted their donkeys and began to pace up and down the court dribbling, carrying, and shooting basketballs. And just to be fair, I’m definitely using the word pace quite liberally here. If you’ve never spent much time around donkeys, what you might not know is that while they are smart and can be amazingly sweet, they definitely have minds of their own. This sometimes frustrating trait, made for a great night of entertainment.

Here come the donkeys. This little guy was first to enter to whooping and hollering.
Donkeys start the ceremony by carrying the littlest flag bearers.
The donkeys dribble down the court. The little one was the spunkiest. (Isn’t that always the way.)
Line up under the hoops, the rider takes a shot and the donkey watches on.
Sometimes the donkeys shed their riders. This poor fellow came off more than once but he was determined.

So why in the world were donkeys playing basketball in our little town? Well for a good cause of course. Another part of small town life is the way folks are committed to helping each other, and this night the agenda was focused on kicking cancer (pun intended and emblazond on the t-shirts). The program started out honoring the cancer survivors, then the national anthem (and yes kids riding donkeys paraded around the flag), the pledge of allegiance, the Texas pledge (that’s how we roll around here), and a prayer. You can’t say we don’t take our events seriously. During halftime, a cake auction was held, and homemade goodies fetched hundreds of dollars for a great cause.

It was one of those nights that just made me smile. When I came home and fed the horses and donkeys, I had a little chat with Sweetie Pie, our resident donkey. We talked it over, and while she was supportive of her fellow donkeys, she made it very clear in no uncertain terms that basketball was not in her future. I guess we’ll save the basketball hoops for another day.

Donkey Photo - Sweetie Pie shows off her pearly whites
Sweetie Pie says, “No mam. There will be no donkey basketball at the farm. Smooches!”

 

P.S. – No donkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.