Relative Something

It is a good thing that I chose the 8-cubic-foot sized wheelbarrow when I recently shopped for one with two wheels. Anything smaller and we would be making a lot more trips in and out of the paddocks to dump it, and anything larger and we wouldn’t be able to push it when it was full. I have been removing between 16 and 24 cubic feet of manure at a time, every few days, when I get around to tending to the task. When that wheelbarrow is full, it is very heavy to push.

Unfortunately, my grip is failing me, which doesn’t help when moving a heavy wheelbarrow, because the inflammation through my carpal tunnel (both left and right) is raging day and night lately. It seems that everything I do is an irritant, and my thumb and first two fingers go numb when typing on a keypad, when gripping a rake or shovel, scooping manure, moving the wheelbarrow, holding a steering wheel, gripping the wood splitter, or sleeping at night. It even bothered me while trying to hold a fork during dinner last night.

One would hope that the sleeping wouldn’t be a problem, because my doctor prescribed wrist braces to keep the hands in a neutral position all night, but 4 o’clock in the morning is a time when the pain and numbness seems to bother me the most.

It probably doesn’t help that I have started to frequently throw a ball for Delilah to find. My arm is killing me from repeated attempts to throw farther than I am realistically capable. But hope springs eternal, and I continue trying to throw that thing as hard as I can. It is just so irresistible to watch Delilah use her nose to hunt the ball down, returning so proud when she comes back to me with it clenched in her jaw.

It took her a while to get the hang of the game, but now she behaves as if she understands exactly what I am saying. If she didn’t see where I threw it, I tell her she needs to find it with her nose, and she will start traversing back and forth across the yard in front of me, nose to the ground, as fast as she possibly can. At first, I would just throw into the mowed grass, but I quickly increased the difficulty by throwing into the woods. It boggles my mind that she can find it in there, especially when she has lost track of what direction I threw toward. I will go back to splitting wood while she hunts, often expecting she will never find it, and then suddenly, she is at my feet, with that ball in her mouth, hoping I will throw it again.

It is a game that has become too much fun for both of us.