Tag: farm life

The Story of Boomer
Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

The Story of Boomer

My Farmtastic Life3 Comments

If you follow our Instagram account, you’ve no doubt seen adorable photos of our latest pup, Boomer, who came to the farm last summer.  This is his story.

One steamy July Sunday morning, Cowboy headed out for the day, and I decided it was going to be a day of relaxation.  It’s my happy place to have an iced coffee, a good book, and sit on the porch listening to nature chirp and chime all around me.  (Side note,  when we get up in the mornings, we crack the barn door so that Nightmare the cat can go on farm patrol. That fact will soon become a very important part of this story.)

After whiling away my morning lounging and reading, I finally decided to head out to the barn.  When I opened the door, I walked smack into a yellow, smiling dog who promptly rolled over on his back, tail wagging, as if to say, “Well hello there, let’s be friends. And while you’re at it, please rub my belly.”

Stunned. Simply stunned.  I shook my head. Where in the world did this dog come from? And how in the name of all that is holy did he get into the barn? (Remember the cracked door?  Yep. Just enough space for this wily fella to sneak in.)

I mean yes, country strays are sadly part of life. Goober was a stray who showed up on the farm, but he had the good manners to stay out in the pasture when he made his appearance. But this yellow dog had arrived with no apologies. He was here to make friends, and was not going to take no for an answer.

Boomer On the Patio Furniture - MyFarmtasticLife.com
I mean seriously, how could you not fall in love with that face!

I quickly moved him out of the barn, Nightmare’s domain, who is clearly a good mouser but not a good dog-er, and moved him to the yard. After I watered and fed him, he jumped up on the cushioned patio furniture as if to say, “Have a seat with me.”

Who was this crazy friendly dog? Now while he was chill, I had a house full of pups who were not. They were, shall we say, losing their collective milk bones. Barking and bounding at the door. I knew I was going to need a second set of hands to settle the situation with my windows and doors intact. And most importantly, if I was going to figure out where this lovable guy belonged.

Dad to the rescue. Bless him.  (Of course, when I call the man comes running. He always has.) Once Dad arrived, I quickly made a flyer, posted to our small town’s social media groups, texted neighbors, and we headed out driving farm to farm with this guy in the back seat of the truck, smiling the whole way.

He rode well, which is more than I can say for half of our pups who pant and pace like drooling maniacs when they get to go for a r-i-d-e.  This guy, however, loved it.  As we drove around, we had no luck. Well maybe we had some luck, because no one chased us off of their property. It’s always tricky when you head down a windy driveway onto someone’s farm on a random Sunday afternoon. People are friendly, but wary. In Texas, we are fond of our fences and our gates.

Giving up for the day, we headed to our local Tractor Supply, dog on a leash, to let him pick out a treat, and of course bought him a shiny blue collar and his very own food bowl.  (I mean if he was going to hang around, we had to do it right.)

What in the world was I going to do with him? (And yes, I was already scheming as to how I could keep him. This should shock no one.)

In the midst of all of these adventures, I did text Cowboy with a simple picture, because, as you know, a picture is worth a thousand words.  He was less than thrilled, as his running joke is that we can have no more things that poop. He’s over scooping.  He also has his own theory as to why these critters magically appear when he is not home, but I digress.

Long story long, one of our neighbor’s let us know of a lady who had been missing her pup.  So after five hours of farm adventures, which is more than enough time for this fur mamma to get attached, we loaded him up and took him home.  Turned out, he had been missing for over a week, and wandered five miles through dense, thick cedar and bramble woods, with plenty of coyotes I might add, and made it to our place, apparently no worse for the wear.  She was thrilled to see him.

But we learned that he wasn’t really her fella. She was keeping him for a friend, who thought he’d be better off in the country than in an apartment in the city.  But el poocho was prone to chasing cars, and she didn’t have a fence that could keep him in. I left my name and number, and asked her to let me know if he got away again.  I left a little sad, as I had already thought this guy was going to join the herd.

The next day, I could not get this yellow fella out of my head, and so I texted his caregiver to check on him.  Turns out, his owner was willing to give him to us if we wanted him. Oh my heart skipped a beat, but I also dreaded sharing this news with Cowboy.  But as you know by now if you read the blog, Cowboy is a softie.  And well we are plenty equipped for scooping poop around here. So, welcome to the farm, Boomer. Welcome to the farm.

P.S. Turns out that Boomer has decided that Cowboy is his person. That dog loves that man, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

Boomer Hunts Frogs - MyFarmtasticLife.com
Boomer just might have ruined some landscaping last summer on his determined adventures to find frogs in the pool. But we must admit, he’s a gentle soul. He really was looking for new friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Farmtastic Life - Giraffes at Fossil Rim Wildlife Center We Came for the Giraffes
Adventures Away From the Farm · Farmtastic Stories

We Came for the Giraffes

My Farmtastic Life4 Comments

Fourteen years ago, Cowboy and I came to Glen Rose, Texas for the very first time.  As big time animal lovers, we had heard about Fossil Rim Wildlife Center and decided to make an overnight trip of it. We had absolutely no idea that one little overnight stay would change the course of our future.

On our day at Fossil Rim, we took a behind the scenes tour, rode around in an open-air Jeep, snapped tons of pictures (with actual film!), and made memories at every turn.  And then we saw them.  The majestic giraffes.

A combination of gangly grace, long eyelashes, and sticky sweet tongues.  I had never been so close to these amazing creatures, and I was quickly falling head over heels in love.  Our guide, the legendary Jan Bussey, parked near the herd and shared her knowledge and passion for Fossil Rim while we hand fed these beauties.

Oh my stars.  I think I could have parked there all day head pointed up, hands outstretched, smile plastered across my face, and heart leaping for joy.  I had found my spot.

Cowboy and I never forgot that trip. In fact, living in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex,  Fossil Rim became our go-to daytrip for birthdays, anniversaries, or just a day out.  We brought friends and family.  We became ambassadors, telling anyone who would listen about the landscape and critters of Fossil Rim, most especially my beloved giraffes.

Not too long after we began visiting Glen Rose, Cowboy and I started looking for land, an escape from the city.  We looked far and wide, even as far north as Oklahoma.  We saw little pieces and big pieces of land.  Some with houses, some without, and some with houses that weren’t long for this world.  Looking became our weekend occupation, as we bumped along miles and miles of country roads.

And then one day, Cowboy looked at me and said, “You know, I’m not sure why we’re looking all over the place.  Wherever we go, we are going to have to drive to Fossil Rim, so we might as well be close.”

Have I told you that man is a genius?  So just like that our search was narrowed to the tippy top of the hill country, where the deer and the giraffes roam.  

And the rest is, as they say, history.  Ten years ago we bought our dream place, and seven years ago we built our barndominium and moved into Wild Horse Valley.  We filled it with our own little zoo of horses, donkeys, cats, and dogs. And we still love to visit Fossil Rim, and even volunteer when we can.  In all these years, it still takes my breath away.

In fact, October is one of my absolute favorites at the Rim.  The weather is cooler, the animals are frisky, and if you time it just right you can catch the European Red Deer in rutting season and hear their soulful bugling across the park.

My Farmtastic Life - Giraffes at Fossil Rim Wildlife Center
A friendly giraffe coming to say hello. If you look closely you’ll see several in the background, and also a gaggle of European Red Deer relaxing in the shade.

It’s easy to take for granted sharing your town with giraffes, rhinos, and cheetahs, but it is truly a gift.  If you are in the area, I encourage you drive on out to the Rim, soak up some sunshine, and sit in wonder of our tall neighbors. But I must say, be careful.  You may come for the giraffes and find yourself staying for so much more.

P.S. A version of this post was published in the Glen Rose Reporter.  This farmgirl is delighted to serve as a community columnist.

My Farmtastic Life - Babalou the sheep Holy Sheep
Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Holy Sheep

My Farmtastic Life2 Comments

Over the years, we’ve had lots of critters wander onto the farm.  We’ve had the duck who landed out of nowhere, Yeller Feller the tailless cat who made pals with my dad, and of course the most famous stray of all, Goober who stole my heart and has stayed here at the farm.  But last week we had one of the strangest arrivals yet – a random sheep.  Yep, you heard me correctly, a Mary-had-a-little-lamb bonafide sheep.

Out in the distance Cowboy and I saw something white, but we dismissed it.  It was near a neighbor’s fence and wasn’t moving, so we thought maybe they had set something near their fence.  No biggie.

Then came day two.  As we drove into our front gate, the white thing moved. Cowboy and I looked at each other and in unison said, “Is that a sheep?”

Well my rescue mama instincts kicked in and before I would even let Cowboy get the gate shut, I had us riding through the pasture to check it out.  Poor old gal was hiding in the cedar trees and was super nervous.  Most disturbing of all, someone had put a collar of some sort around her neck, and it looked tight, seriously tight.  Now my worried farm mama kicked in, right along side of my what-are-people-doing-fury critter protector mama.  Needless to say I was a bundle of emotions and personalities.

Poor old gal was so nervous that there was no getting close to her.  Heartsick, we took some hay to her resting spot in the trees, prayed she’d realize that we were her friends, and most importantly find the water trough in the pasture.

Driving back to the barn, I said, “What are we going to do with Babalu?”

“You’ve already named her? Seriously?” Cowboy asked, shaking his head.

“Of course.  She has to have name.”

“Babalu?” he replied, looking at me incredulously.

“You know, I Love Lucy?  Ricky sang Babalu.  Sheep say baa baa.”

I’ll just let you imagine the side eye crazy look I was getting at this time.  I thought I was super clever; he clearly thought I was nuts.  As always, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle.  But I digress …

My Farmtastice Life - Babalu the sheep
Babalu soaking up the sunshine and munching the grasses. Thanks to our dear friend Trey McIntyre for capturing some pics of this old gal.

Over the next couple of days, Cowboy and I would take turns wandering out into the pasture, taking a knee, and trying to make friends.  Holy sheep, she was not having it.  The best we could do was get within five feet.  And I thought donkeys were stubborn?

Nothing breaks this farmgirl’s heart more than an animal she can’t reach.  Most of all we wanted to get that collar off of her.  Lucky for us, we also have amazing neighbors, who keep cows in our pastures.  After we gave them a heads up about Babalu, they also kept a daily lookout for her.  I guess you could say we were all officially on sheep watch.

Truth is, our pasture is not fenced for sheep and Babalu could have easily gotten out, but she chose to stay.  With grass a plenty and fresh water, and I’m quite sure all the farm critters whispering that she had found a sanctuary, she miraculously stayed.

I am delighted to report that earlier this week our amazing neighbors caught dear Babalu when she came up to visit the cows during feeding time.  They loosened her collar, took her sweet self down to another pasture that was better for sheep, and planned to get her settled with friends who have other goats and sheep.

Can I just tell you the look of sheer joy that came over Cowboy’s face when I got off the phone with the neighbors and said, “They caught Babalu and they have a place for her.”

Now I knew he was grinning because he was thinking, “Thank you, Lord.  We do not have to build a sheep pen and add another feed type to our supply list.”  Because we all know that was a very real possibility with me.  But I also like to think he was grinning because Babalu had found safety and rest.

Even the least of us deserves safety and rest.

P.S. We have no idea if Babalu wandered onto our place or someone dumped her off.  Regardless, the collar situation, her advanced age, and her skinny condition lead me to believe that life hasn’t always been kind to her.  Please people, if you have an animal you can no longer care for, give them a chance – call a rescue, a sanctuary, a friend.  They deserve better from us.

 

 

 

 

Farm Photo - Sweetie Pie the Donkey Tug Of Donkey
Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Tug Of Donkey

My Farmtastic Life1 Comment

We love our donkey girls here at the farm. They have big personalities, make crazy braying noises when it’s time to eat, and they are great at keeping an eye on things. (Our city friends like to call them guard donkeys.)

And while they are oodles of fun 99 percent of the time, sometimes they are … well, um … donkeys!  Sweetie pie is about 7 years old, and from time to time gets a little limpy, which means we need to bring her up into a stall and let her get some rest and TLC.  (Cowboy is convinced that Sweetie Pie plays up the limping when she wants a little extra attention. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her; she’s one smart chica.)

Well we’ve had some rain, which means we have mud, which is when she usually gets a little sensitive. So out in the mud we tromped to get her a little R&R, farm style.  While with our horses you can whip on a halter and have the job done in two seconds flat, with the donkeys, not so much.

Now don’t get me wrong, Miss Pie is better than her dear sweet Mama Rose (that’s a whole other kind of rodeo), but she is still a donkey.  It’s a lovely rhythm of 2 steps, tug, release, 2 steps, tug, no thank you.  So we work our way up from the pasture to the stalls doing our delicate dance while all the other equines watch on in amusement.  (Yes, I do think they are laughing at us humans sometimes.)

Farm Photo - Sweetie Pie the Donkey
Sweetie Pie being a smidge stubborn. She is a donkey, after all.

And then the final show down – the big bad scary stall gate.  Now little miss knows good and well the gate is not a bad thing, but it’s her last stand.  So she has to make a show of things.  Who can blame a girl for trying. (Notice the taught rope in the photo and those ears and eyes.  She is saying, “No ma’am, no ma’am, mo ma’am.”)

Ultimately, she trots into the stall for some extra special care, at which point I do a little jig of victory.  She gets a good rub down, some fresh hay, and while I think I have won the grear tug of donkey event, I think our girl knows she is the real winner, but she is at least gracious enough to let me bask for just a moment.  Even donkeys have manners on the farm.

 

Farm Life · Farmtastic Stories

Just Say No to Snakes

My Farmtastic Life1 Comment

We love 99.9% of things about country living.  In fact, neither Cowboy nor I  want to trade in the work, peace, or beauty of the country to go back to the ‘burbs.  However, if there is one thing that can make me shriek and consider condo living, it is the S word.  That’s right, S-N-A-K-E. Those squirmy, sneaky, legless slitherers are NOT my friends.

We’ve been pretty blessed at the farm.  We’ve found just two snakes in five years, and one we only found after we ran over it with the tractor.  Bonus! But with this year’s spring rains they seem to have discovered the farm, and we found three on the porch in 36 hours.  Let me correct that, I found three.

Snake number one slithered onto the porch just as I was about to let the pups out.  Unfortunately, Cowboy wasn’t home at the time and couldn’t get here immediately. (Of course!) Panic mode fully in place, because I was not going to go toe-to-toe or rather toe-to-slither with a snake, I picked up the phone and called my dad.   Dads fix everything, right?

My good natured dad  listened, as I screeched, “Dad, there is a snake on the porch.  Come now.  Right now.”

In his slow drawl, he said, “Awe, you’ve got a snake, huh?”

My anxiety building, I squeaked, “Stop. Talking. Just. Come. Right.  Now.”

We hung up and I stayed glued to the window making sure I knew exactly where that snake was.  I couldn’t risk a get-away, or I may never step foot on the porch again.  Five minutes later, my mom  called me back.

“Your dad is on the way. He’s got his BB gun and shovel.  You cracked him up. He’s grinning from ear to ear,” she said. “He should be there in a few minutes.”

Not so happy to be comic relief, I breathed a sigh of relief as the calvary was on its way. I grabbed my pink rubber boots and stood at the ready.  What an utter goofball I looked like.  You’d think I was going to do battle with the garden rather than snakes.  Whatever works, right? And then I saw Dad round the driveway, that lovely Dodge truck was a white horse.

My Farmtastic Life - Just Say No to Snakes
Dad saved the day, and by day I mean my sanity. Sorry Mr. Snake. You are not welcome on the porch!

Dad saved the day, and was an excellent shot.  Dad did feel bad, as he said it was a “good” snake, i.e. not poisonous.  However, while my brain knows this, my nervous system does not.  In fact, that night I dreamed about being chased by snakes.  Let’s just say, I’m not a fan.

Snake number two and three came when Cowboy was around.  (Lucky, Cowboy!) Snake number two still came with an assist from Dad, as he was stuck up in the porch roof rafters, and unfortunately ate a nest of baby black birds.  Sad about the birds, and this also came with a new realization that I had to look not only down but up for snakes.  Holy cats, are you kidding me?

Snake number three showed up on our side porch wrapping itself around a door handle.  For the love of pete I hope this stops.  By snake number three, Cowboy has this routine down, sadly. Routine starts with a call of, “Cowboy! Snake! Now!” To which I hear him laughing and boots come stomping.  Shovels collected.  Snake in sight.  Snake dead.

The big lesson? Screened in porch just moved up the priority list of projects.  Hardware store here we come!

 

P.S. – Yes, snakes were harmed in the making of this blog.  We’re sorry.  They simply FREAK us, i.e. me, out.  I know it’s not the right thing to do, but I’d like to keep breathing at a normal pace. All were a minimum of four feet. This farmgirl is just over five feet. You do the math.

P.P.S. – Ironically, snake number three came in the middle of writing this blog.  Guess he needed to make an appearance.

P.P.P.S. – I refuse to categorize this as a critter story.  Critters require legs. So you’ll find this under farm life.  Just saying.

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Go Fish

My Farmtastic Life3 Comments

Back in the fall I was chatting it up in our local coffee shop, when one of my friends mentioned that she keeps goldfish in her horse troughs to eat algae and mosquito larvae.  I nearly spit out my chai tea latte, when I asked, “Seriously?” (And yes, country folks drink tea lattes, at least this farmgirl does and I adore them. And double yes, if you walk into our local coffee shop you will hear talk of horses, farms, and the town goings-on, all with a dose of southern hospitality.)

My Farmtastic Life - Go Fish, Critter Stories
Our first little goldfish swimming laps in their olympic sized pool, a.k.a. the horse trough.

So I bee bopped home and told Cowboy of my newfound knowledge.  And if you could have seen the look on his face.  Let’s just pull a line out of his favorite TV show, and say, “Well, possum on a gum bush.”  So we started asking around, and sure enough it’s a REAL thing.

We went about purchasing goldfish at a whopping 32 cents a piece and gave it a try.  Admittedly, fall into winter was probably not our smartest time to try, but we gave it a good go. Sure enough, it worked.  Well, kind of.

Enter Lips.  In our last batch of fish, we got one little fella who was all gold with the exception of bright white lips.  So while I had avoiding naming the fish, this one was special.  And you guessed it, his name is Lips.

After a couple of weeks in the trough, he wasn’t doing so well.  He was barely moving and only using his fins on one side.  Cowboy sent me a text one afternoon that said, “Lips is dying.”  Yes, I know Lips is a 32-cent goldfish, but I went into action.  How does one save a fish?  I mean I couldn’t exactly give him CPR or bandage a fin.  (Although, Cowboy wouldn’t put it past me. Some other time I’ll have to share the warnings I get about this and that creature finding their way inside.)

I’d read that sometimes goldfish don’t always do well in galvanized tanks, so I thought maybe this was his problem. I scooped him out and put him in a sassy purple horse bucket, fed him, and watched.  On a daily basis, I would tell Cowboy, “I think he’s dead.”  To which Cowboy would come look, disturb the water, and sure enough, off Lips would swim.  (Maybe I’ll start calling Cowboy the fish whisperer.  I’m sure he’d love that.) Within a couple of days Lips was swimming around again.  So now what’s a farmgirl to do?

My Farmtastic Life - Go Fish, Critter Stories
One fish + one tea pitcher = one very happy Lips the goldfish.
My Farmtastic Life - Go Fish, Critter Stories
A close up of dear sweet Lips, in his tea pitcher house.

If you know me, you can most likely guess.  He came inside, of course.  But while I have kennels a plenty and horse halters galore, an aquarium is not standard farm paraphernalia.  So digging through the cupboards I finally found it – my giant tea pitcher.  And so with a few seashells from our travels dropped in for good measure, Lips was in his new home.  And I prayed that the cats would not turn on the spout and drain out the water before Lips could have a real home.  In addition, a girl can only give up her sweet tea pitcher for so long, fish or no fish.

So long story short, Lips now has a home nestled in a lovely, proper aquarium, complete with air pump, colorful gravel, and decor.  I mean the fish has to have style. So if you are doing the math, this 32-cent goldfish now is a $50 investment, which leaves Cowboy scratching his head, but me able to sleep at night. And where is this aquarium, you ask?  On my hutch, directly beneath my treasured cookbooks, where there will be no discussion of cooking fish.

My Farmtastic Life - Go Fish, Critter Stories
Lips enjoying his new digs. Luxury penthouse in the sky. (Stache is in the front, and Lips is in the back left.)

P.S.  We originally got Lips a friend, who we named Stache, short for Mustache, as he had a black ring around has lips.  But unfortunately, Stache didn’t last too long.  Rest in peace Stache.  We hope you enjoyed your time on the farm.  Lips will remain an only fish for now.

P.P.S.  Goldfish don’t always do well in the troughs.  So we continue to experiment and find the the right balance.  We do enjoy having them and they are big help. If you give it a go, we’d love to hear your successes. 

 

 

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Twas the Night Before Christmas – Farm Style

My Farmtastic Life2 Comments

This Christmas season has been a busy one at the farm with critter antics and adventures galore.  Stories are coming, but we wanted to wish all of our farm fans a very merry Christmas with our version of Twas the Night Before Christmas, farm style of course.  We hope you enjoy.  God bless!

Twas the Night Before Christmas – Farm Style

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the farm,
Every creature was stirring, making one noisy barn.
While stockings were hung on the horse stalls with care,
Ranger hoped they’d be filled with carrots to share.

The dogs, they were dancing all over our bed,
Wiping visions of sleep right out of our heads.
Cowboy in his boots, and I in my coat,
Decided rest was not coming. Nope. Nope. Nope.

When out in the barn there arose such a clatter,
We dashed in to see what could be the matter.
Nightmare the cat had cornered a mouse.
Oh dear me, not another. When will we build a house?

The moon shone above all our crazy below,
Water troughs glistened like new fallen snow.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
Jack rabbits, turkeys, and all sizes of deer.

My eyes, they lit up with the critters anew,
Cowboy chimed in, “No ma’am, not one more for you.
These critters are guests, and they’re just passing through.
There’s no room at the inn, all the bills have come due.”

I smiled and I nodded, a wink in my eye.
I realize he’s right, I cannot tell a lie.
But I love all our critters, odd quirks and all,
Even when dogs chew shoes and horses bust stalls.

“Now Dixie! Now Goober! Now Maybelle and Shadow!
Oh Willie! Oh Grizzly! Oh Chip, Bear, and Rhino.
We must get a grip if we want to see Christmas.”
Nighttime is ending, please Santa don’t miss us.

We called to the fur-kids to gather around,
We begged and we pleaded, “For once settle down.
Christmas is coming, and Santa is near.
Let’s make sure there’re snacks for all the reindeer.”

Suzy and Smokey, River and Ranger,
Set out their buckets, while we found the manger.
Mama and Sweetie shared their best hay,
As we looked to the sky, soon it would be Christmas day.

Sleep fell over the farm as we finished our chores,
Peace and rest came in the sound of sweet snores.
When out on the porch I heard the chimes blowing,
I peeked out the window to find it was snowing.

Just at the moment, I saw old Saint Nick.
He was chubby, and jolly and ever so quick.
I jostled poor Cowboy so he wouldn’t miss it.
Rubbing his eyes, he said, “Is it Christmas?”

Tears filled our eyes as we watched what came next,
Santa bent down, his hat to his chest.
He was saying a prayer by the manger so sweet,
Asking the Lord to meet all of our needs.

I watched as the critters all gathered around,
They joined dear old Santa, with heads all bowed down.
The scene on the farm this Christmas morn,
Reminded us why our Christ was born.

He came down to Earth to set our hearts free,
To love every person, even Cowboy and me.
We remember at Christmas and all the year through,
Jesus has blessed us with our own little zoo.

So from our farm to yours, we offer this wish.
From people to donkeys, to dogs, even fish.
We pray this New Year will bring blessings to all.
Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and a Texas yeehaw!

Merry Christmas from MyFarmtasticLife

Critter Stories · Farmtastic Stories

Drama Donkey

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As I’ve mentioned before, this farm mama has a day job, which occasionally calls for me to be out of town. But thanks to Cowboy and family, someone is always at the farm to care for the cast of characters that call Wild Horse Valley Home.

Admittedly, the number of critters we have is due to me, and my inability to say “no” to a creature in need. And while Cowboy is an animal lover too, sometimes they just flat wear him out. Honestly, this last couple of weeks I think they have been conspiring against me to demonstrate just how much work they are.

This summer has been one of emergency vet visits for injured horses and donkeys, multiple busted stalls from bucking and playing, and Maybelle has been on a cricket bender flying around the yard and garden chasing them, eating them, and then unceremoniously throwing them up on the living room floor.   The latter has become such a problem that Cowboy has even considered that we may need to get chickens to contend with the crickets and grasshoppers. I’ll keep you posted on that potential adventure. I digress …

On my recent work trip, I got a text from Cowboy that Sweetie Pie the donkey was limping. As I prepared to speak at a media conference, I was guessing I was the only one getting texts about injured donkeys. Sometimes I feel like a girl with two personalities, high-tech product manager and poop-scooping farm girl.

Anyway, Cowboy and I quickly came up with a plan. Sweetie Pie and Mama Rose were put in the oversized stall with fresh hay and water so she could rest until we could assess the issue. (Where Sweetie Pie goes, Mama must follow.) I reminded Cowboy where the donkey and horse aspirin was to give her some relief. (Yes, there is such a thing.)

Animal Photo - Sweetie Pie the donkey soaking her hoof
This is from earlier in the summer when Sweetie Pie hurt her back hoof. This time she was not willing to soak it like a good donkey. We tried, and we had flying buckets to prove it.

After calls to the vet and farrier, we decided it was likely an abscess and scheduled the farrier to come as soon as he could make it out to us. Cowboy was on donkey duty and kept me apprised daily of how our little Pie was getting along. She was limping pitifully on her front left leg.

However, Cowboy noticed something odd. If Sweetie Pie did not see him looking at her, she moved much better. The moment he would turn and look at her, the limping would ensue with pomp and circumstance, as though her front leg was absolutely useless. Was our little donkey playing on Cowboy’s sympathies? Are they that smart? You bet your bottom dollar they are!

Finally the farrier arrived and found that Sweetie Pie had indeed injured her little hoof with a puncture wound, likely from some type of thorn she found out in the pasture. The farrier made quick work of it and opened the wound so it could drain and give her relief. However, while he said it was likely uncomfortable, he thought our little Pie was a bit of a “drama queen.” Really? You don’t say!

Just like two-legged kiddos, the four-leggeds know how to get attention with the best of them. The good news is that Sweetie Pie is on the mend, that is as long as we don’t look at her.

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.