Posts Tagged ‘cat’
Learning Opportunities
Of all the projects we have undertaken since we moved here, I never imagined that gutters would become the significant issue that they have. Yesterday we had a visit from our gutter guy, (really, we have a gutter guy —how sad is that?) to have him give us a quote to improve the gutter on our barn so that it actually works during anything heavier than a light drizzle.
They installed the gutter for us originally, per my request, but it has never provided the solution we were seeking. Last fall’s addition of lime screenings on the ground in the paddock has served to very visibly reveal the shortcomings of our current set up. We have some major rills that have been formed by the water that pours off the roof, over the gutter, and flows down the slope below.
Sounds like my decision to now add metal “blocks” on the steel roof to hold snow in place will actually serve us well in making the gutter more effective. They originally mounted the gutter low to protect it from being damaged by ice and snow sliding down the roof. With the blocks in place, the gutter could be raised up and that would help, so I’m told, in catching more of the water that flows over the lip of the roof line during heavy rain.
Where were they with that brilliant suggestion when they did the first install? Especially since I did order snow blocks for the back side of the barn at that time (where there is no need for a gutter), because I didn’t want the massive pile up of snow occurring on our roadway back there. I had seen what happened the year before, with no blocks, and was wary of how difficult it would be to keep that passageway clear of snow if we did nothing.
On the front side of the barn, the roof gets enough sun exposure that it usually melts before creating a giant accumulation like what would happen on the back side, in the shade.
So, we bought a gutter once, and now we are going to buy the gutter again. It’s kind of like getting 1 gutter for the price of 2! What a deal!
This is so not how I want improvement projects to go. I get to chalk it up as one more lesson to me about getting over my thing with perfectionism. Oh, and my thing about frugality. And my thing about making smart, informed decisions.
I take solace in the fact these lessons come to me in this most beautiful place that we now call home, surrounded by fields, forest, our horses & dog & cat, wild animals and many critters galore, gorgeous sky views day and night, and a peacefulness that is garnished with songbirds, mooing cows, occasional barks from neighbor’s dogs, and the wonderful sound of rustling tree leaves.
It all helps soften the blow of the next brilliant (F@#$!*%&) learning opportunity destined to come my way. Perfection.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Early Attention
It may not be 4 a.m., but it always feels like it when Pequenita, our cat, decides she has had enough with our being asleep and tromps on us before daylight is visible, kneading and purring, as if being cute and sweet will offset the annoyance of unwanted attention at such an early hour.
She puts her face in mine and tries a few head butts to make sure I know she’s there, but I practice the art of remaining comatose to convey to her that my sleep is not to be interrupted. It is the kneading with those front claws that I am forced to react to if the covers don’t sufficiently cover my sensitive skin.
Some mornings she decides to settle back down and join me in continued slumber, unbeknownst to me since I was practicing being comatose, and I will suddenly fling her off the bed unintentionally when moments later I realize my bladder can’t wait until sunrise for relief.
I am surprised by the amount of abuse she tolerates from me, continuing to lay and sleep at my feet as I jostle her rudely while moving my legs in search of a position my body will accept as sleep-worthy at the beginning of the night. Maybe it is because she knows she will have her vengeance in the wee hours of the following morning.
It is not entirely unlike the relationship of a mother and her child, though it was not my original intention to write all that as a segue to get to acknowledgement of all mothers and their loving sacrifices on this Mother’s Day in the US. Yet, even the title I chose for today’s post, before starting the first paragraph, could be interpreted as an homage to that which all mothers give.
Our kids are grown and gone, but with our dog and cat, we have accomplished a way to feel as though we are still parenting infants, just ones that never grow up.
Happy Mother’s Day all you moms!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Pill Time
It is a lazy Sunday morning and we have finished a glorious breakfast of blueberry pancakes with luscious fresh maple syrup tapped from local trees at S & S Sugar Bush. It being early in the month, we realized it was time to ask Delilah to take her prescribed heartworm pill. The first time Cyndie presented one to her when we were new dog owners, Delilah gobbled it up enthusiastically. That worked a few more times before something registered with our dear dog that she didn’t like it after all.
This confuses us to no end because we have seen the extremely wide range of disgusting things Delilah otherwise delightfully ingests. Seriously, can this pill taste worse than a mummified carcass that was lying in a farm field that had recently been covered in nasty smelling fresh manure?
This morning, Cyndie tried slipping it into a hard-boiled egg that was reaching the end of its refrigerator life. Surely Delilah would delight in an egg getting past its freshness date.
Of course she did! But the pill dropped right out on the floor. Next came some peanut butter. I warned Cyndie that the last time I tried that, Delilah licked the peanut butter off until the pill was getting slimy, leaving it behind.
I think Cyndie should try slipping it in when she is giving Delilah and Pequenita some shared treat time. It has become their favorite routine to receive cat treats on the kitchen floor together. The cat takes time to crunch hers into several bites, but Delilah gobbles the little morsels up so fast that I’m afraid for fingers that don’t get out of the way in time.
Seems to me to be the ideal time to slip in the old heartworm pill with a little slight of hand so she wolfs it down before realizing what it is. If it doesn’t work, at least it might teach her to slow down and savor this opportunity of sharing space with her sister of another species.
Cyndie enjoyed success with her peanut butter trick this time, so my idea will have to wait another month to be tested. Something tells me Delilah will never fall for it, anyway.
Sure makes me wonder what could be so bad in that little pill, compared to all the vile things our dog fights to get into her mouth at other times…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Brooke Writes
Guest Post
Today’s post is a contribution from my niece’s daughter, Brooke Friese, age 11. Brooke and her brother, Drew came with their mother for a visit last Friday. I was thrilled when she accepted my invitation to write a guest post about their day.
I went to my great aunt Cindy and uncle John Hays’ Wintervale Ranch. It was one of the best days of the week!
They have a beautiful (and furry dog) named Delilah that loves to slobber all over frisbees when you throw it :). They also have an adorable cat named Pequenita; we also have two cats which are twins. Pequenita and my two cute cats are very alike. They are both small and they both are tortoiseshell cats, the only difference between them is my cats have more black and Pequenita has more brown.
Anyway back to Delilah and Pequenita (‘Nita for short), Delilah, being a dog, obviously wants to play, chase, sniff, and lick ‘Nita until she runs and hides meowing at Delilah all the way.
We also went on a walk through the beautiful (but very muddy) woods; we passed a fallen tree that Uncle John has nicknamed “The Brooke tree,” we walked down to the labyrinth, it was super cool!
I can’t wait to see it in the summer! My brother and I followed the winding trails to the middle and then back out again.
Then uncle John led us to the barn where we said hello to the horses. Legacy, (a beautiful snow white horse) acts as the boss of all the other horses (Hunter, Cayenne, and Dezirea) he pulls back his ears and jerks slightly towards the horse(s) that is bugging him.
Dezirea acts as the mother, making sure everyone is fed before she eats, and makes sure everyone is using manners at all times, but she will never scold Legacy, after all he is the boss!
Then we headed over to the hay barn, I wasn’t expecting much, I mean it’s called “The Hay Barn,” there’s bound to be a few stacks of hay . . . oh no, when I walked into the hay barn I was surprised.
I saw tons and tons, two huge piles of hay both stacked in the form of stairs. My brother and I had fun climbing and exploring on the huge mounds of hay (with Uncle John’s permission).
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
After my brother and I were exhausted from climbing on the two piles we walked over to Uncle John’s compost/molding horse manure piles, there were three piles of manure covered in thousands of flies. Along with the three piles was a still frozen compost pile that was now almost dirt, and wheel barrel full of more almost-dirt-compost, (My brother, Drew also pulled apart the poo with his bare hands so he could see what it looked like inside! Delilah also ate some manure! Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!) Then Uncle John shifted the manure with a pitchfork, and the moldy compost started to steam! Uncle John measured the heat of the manure and it was around 130 degrees! Wow it was only around 50 degrees outside!
After that we headed inside, we played a hide and seek game with Delilah where we hide a ball and she had to go and sniff it out, it was awesome! My visit to Wintervale was super fun and exciting from Ellsworth’s cheese factory to Legacy’s bossiness. I can’t wait to come back! 🙂
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Under Represented
I tell so many tales about Delilah’s daily escapades, and the horses are such a powerful commanding presence around here, that our beautiful cat, Pequenita, ends up being too often overlooked. Today she gets some well-deserved air time.
She is a wee little thing, but she knows how to use her claws to get respect when she wants it. That mostly applies to her dealings with Delilah. I’m pretty sure she means it affectionately when she reaches up and hangs her front claws in my pants leg. She likes me a lot so I get that treatment various times throughout each day. Most of the time I am wearing heavy Carhartt pants that have a double layer of fabric over the knee, so she gets away with it.
It surprises her when she tries that maneuver on the occasions I am wearing something else and I recoil in shock over the silly habit.
When I climb in bed at night with hopes of doing a little writing before nodding off to sleep, she immediately shows up in search of some tender loving care. Pequenita tenaciously navigates a position between my eyes and the display of my laptop, and settles in for some scratching and a massage from me.
My efforts are rewarded with a contented purring and handfuls of her hair.
We find her most often perched on our bed in various levels of slumber. Some days I walk in to grab something and she doesn’t move a bit. Makes me question her survival instinct a little that she can fall asleep so hard and ignore activity around her. Of course, all the other times I walk in, she rises from her nap to see what I want and I end up feeling guilty for rousing her when I didn’t plan on giving her any attention.
Most likely, the bedroom remains her preferred hangout because we usually have a gate up to keep Delilah out of there. It becomes a room where Pequenita can relax without a cold nose constantly pushing on her butt. They do continue to improve on tolerating each other’s presence, but Delilah can’t help herself from playfully brandishing her most dog-like aggressive-looking gyrations when she wants to roughhouse.
‘Nita would prefer the game involve a dramatic reduction in the smacking of jaw and baring of teeth. Delilah’s eventual change from that behavior to trying to sniff Pequenita’s butt doesn’t seem like much of an improvement to the cat by that point, either.
When it gets to be a bit too much for her, she retreats beyond the gate and takes a time out. It is not strange to see her choose to return after a very short time, but Delilah rarely figures out that it’s an invitation to try something different, and the scene goes through a bit of recycling back to the over-excited doggy gyrations.
Pequenita is a precious addition to the non-human members of our family. She definitely deserves more attention than she usually receives from us.
Maybe that is why Delilah over does it so often. She is trying to make up for the other periods of attention deficit that Pequenita experiences.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Who Cares?
Life is pretty great when it involves staying home everyday and taking care of our animals, but there is no denying a sense of isolation that shows up on occasion. My world is horses, a dog, and occasionally a cat. Currently it is also snow and snow plowing, wood splitting, and walking our snow-packed trails. It is pretty idyllic.
I scan news headlines and feel far removed from everything I see. Issues like the struggles in Syria and Ukraine, Islamic State terrorists, Boko Haram mass kidnappings, epic snow storms in and around Boston, measles outbreaks, and million dollar lottery jackpots. If any ripples from the daily top news events are making it to the middle of our country onto our precious property, they are so dampened that I cannot detect them.
I live in the luxury of not needing to notice. At the same time, I can’t help being influenced by struggles in other places. Closer to home, there are ongoing difficulties that family and friends face which have some measure of influence on my psyche. That is something that I can more tangibly grasp and contribute my thoughts of love toward.
Most difficult for me is when the person I am closest to is heavily burdened by the ongoing challenges of her professional responsibilities. I think that is my Kryptonite.
One of my defense mechanisms for dealing with all the world’s ills is to not care. It seems like a poor choice of reaction, but it is a superficial method of saving myself. Deep down, I really do care, and am moved by the suffering of fellow human beings. What I mean by superficially not caring is that I move past the tough news without dwelling too long on any one issue.
When I have the strength to do battle for people or causes, I become active in those with which I am connected and which are within my reach to help. As a person living with depressive tendencies, I need to pay attention to maintain a healthy balance in my “reason to live” file. Feeling like you can do nothing to help others in this world is a dangerous mindset to allow. Even if my only contribution ends up being that I send love out into the world, that is significant for me. It reflects that I am healthy enough to make that choice.
A depressed person generally wouldn’t be so inclined.
Who cares? I do. Really, I do. Even if I pretend that I don’t.
I’m sending love.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Working Again
She did it! Cyndie made it back to work yesterday. A person can believe that they have made good progress with recovery and rehabilitation, but finally going through the motions of getting up early, showering and dressing, and then driving to work in time for a meeting, …that is an ultimate way to test your progress. It’s not for sissies.
With Cyndie out of the house, it was time for me to reclaim my former Wintervale weekday routine. It’s not all that different from the days that Cyndie has been home, except one less distraction. She’s not around.
With our current cold snap, my attention was primarily focused on caring for the horses. They had been in the barn overnight, so my task was to move them back outside and then clean out the stalls behind them. It’s not rocket science, but at -10° F, everything seems to involve an added challenge, especially when it comes to their buckets of water.
The days are short, and in a blink it becomes time to bring them back inside again. Luckily, they make it a pretty simple process due to their interest in getting out of the cold and into their cozy stalls stocked with provisions. That allows me to get back to the house where Delilah and Pequenita are demanding attention.
Cyndie snapped a photo of me last night, working diligently to tend to ‘Nita’s needs. I had to lie still with my legs stretched out for as long as she required.
It’s tough work, but I gotta earn my keep around here, so I soldier on.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Overwhelming Goodness
We are so lucky to have just had the best time with family and friends the last 4 days, upon which we returned home to find all of our animals so well cared for and the house clean, topped off with a fresh homemade loaf of bread from our house sitter, to boot.
On Wednesday, New Years Eve, we continued our charade of mimicking being up at Cyndie’s family lake place by inviting everyone to join us at the Original Pancake House for breakfast. It worked perfectly, especially with the added bonus of not needing to wash any dishes ourselves, afterward.
While visiting before our food arrived, we learned that Cyndie’s brother, Steve, would be hosting some of my oldest friends for a gathering to celebrate the new year. With our plans wide open, it became a priority to make it over to his place, but not before we stopped by to see her brother, Ben’s house. It was to be my first visit after completion of a substantial renovation they had done.
Thus our day was filled with added opportunities to be with family, and the evening provided a chance to relive some old Eden Prairie elementary school days memories. In addition, we shared a brief session of making music and singing harmonies, which harkened back to the earliest versions of our collaborations as budding rock ‘n’ rollers. That was a particularly precious treat for me.
After that late night, we arose at Cyndie’s parents’ house in the middle of the morning to prepare for a small group arriving to watch the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers football team play in the Citrus Bowl game. The good food and fine company were great, but the game fell well short of living up to our high hopes.
Cyndie and I were all packed and ready to high-tail it for home as soon as the outcome was final. This was the first time since we got our animals that we have both been away for more than a couple of days, and as much as we enjoyed the mini vacation, we were both beginning to miss them all.
Delilah gave us the best reception, and Pequenita made it clear in her own way that she was pleased to have us back. Andy had taken good care of everything and left us with a warmest of glows over our good fortune. We are lucky to have found him.
It’s a pretty nice way to start the new year and has us humbly counting the many blessings of overwhelming goodness gracing our lives today.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Did It!
We did it! We are on a stay-cation! Our house-sitter, Andy, arrived yesterday afternoon and we hung around long enough to see him feed the horses, then ran an errand to nearby Baldwin while he served dinner to Delilah and Pequenita. After that, we packed the car and drove off to stay at Cyndie’s parents’ house for a few days, through the new year.
The errand we were on was, washing the horse blankets at the laundromat that has large-sized washers. Boy, did we pick the wrong time to do that. First, the horses could really use those blankets about now. We are under a severe wind-chill warning for 24 hours. Second, after we got the blankets loaded and washing in the giant machines, we spotted the sign that said, “Don’t put horse blankets in the dryers.”
Oops. I suppose if you wash them in the summer, you could just hang them outside to dry. Sadly, the spin cycle on these machines didn’t do much in the way of pulling excess water out of the blankets. It was running off a couple of them as they hung over a high bar on the rolling clothes baskets provided.
We were making a heck of a mess on the floor. About the time I was ready to freak out over the situation we had created, Cyndie’s resourcefulness had her digging through a trash bin to discover an old t-shirt and baby blanket that had been tossed. We used those to mop up as best we could and I hauled the blankets back out to the car in the rapidly dropping temperatures.
We waited another half-hour for a comforter to dry and then were ready to stop back and see how Andy was doing with our animals. When we got to the car, the windows were all fogged up from the moisture of the blankets. What a fiasco.
Happily, we found everything in good order at home and felt confident that Andy was plenty competent to manage things in our absence. We spread out the blankets in the basement to dry, packed up the car with our stuff, and headed west to my in-laws’ place.
About the time we were retiring for the night, we received a text that Andy had chosen to move the horses into the barn for the night due to the wind-chill warning. Minutes after Cyndie replied with some added details related to keeping the horses in the stalls, she received Andy’s response that all had been done.
It already feels like we are on vacation.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sweet Home
When you get home from a hospital stay, the allure of your own bed can be too much to resist. Cyndie said she just wanted to test her ability to hoist herself up onto our tall mattress. I think she probably also wanted to test out taking a little afternoon nap.
Sure, the hospital has professional nurses providing care, but we have our cat, Pequenita. She settled right in at Cyndie’s feet as soon as it looked like a nap was about to happen. Nurses can’t offer that kind of support.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 