For the Love of a Dog

I look across the room, past the bed I am sitting on, to an image that evokes nostalgia in many of us. How comforting it is to see man's best friend curled up in front of a window soaking up the rays of sunshine pouring in. No worries or cares wrinkle his forehead, for he enjoys the moment; the softness of indoor carpeting, the warmth of the sun, and the love of his master, which he mirrors back to the inhabitants of his domain. To look into his eyes is to look into the eyes of a wise and aged grandfather who knows much from his experiences in life and understands exactly, with compassion and love, what another is experiencing. The old adage from William Shakespeare stating, "The eyes are the windows to the soul," could not be more true than when looking into the eyes of a dog, and particularly looking into the eyes of Bruno. There I see a thoughtful soul: a widow's grief; a child's curiousity; a prophet's knowing; a mother's embrace; a watchman's loyalty; a father's protection; and most importantly, the light of Christ.

Bruno. Bruno is my dog... my canine aficionado. I have had many "best friends" throughout my life, of the canine variety, but I'm not sure that any of them will hold a place in my heart as stringently as Bruno, the one I welcomed into our home when we really didn't need or want another dog (we had three already), but who grasped my heart the moment I met him. He sprinted the hundred feet into my open car door upon being asked, "Do you want to go home with me?" leaving me, mouth agape, across the vast yard at my friend's home. I guess the answer to that question was not just "yes" but "#$%& YES!"

I remember seeing an adoption ad posted for him on the front door of the Eden General Store one Saturday morning, when Kevin and I went for some breakfast at one of the town's few restaurants. The ad read, "Vizsla/German Shorthair Mix Needs Good Home" and then stated that the dog listed was an excellent dog, but needed a fenced yard, because he liked to run away. Weeks later, a friend of mine joked to me about the ad posted on the window, that he, too, had seen and commented, "Oh yeah... they're sure to find a home for him... a dog that likes to run away. Doesn't everyone want a dog like that?" A look of surprise settled on his face when I told him that I must have wanted a dog like that, for I had adopted him myself.

You see, I didn't realize at the time that I saw the ad, that Bruno was one of my best friend's dogs. The picture posted portrayed a russet brown bird dog, as nondescript as any chocolate lab I had ever seen. It wasn't until days later, in talking to a mutual friend, that I found out that the dog in the ad was indeed owned by my friend, and that she was worried sick about finding a good home for him, noting that it would be difficult because of his age and his bad habit of running. She didn't want to place Bruno in another home, for she loved him deeply, but her husband felt otherwise. He was angered easily by the slightest deviation from his rules, and neglected to remember that "a dog is a dog." You leave the ham bone out on the edge of the counter and it is quite likely that even the best behaved canine will give into temptation and snatch it up. They don't understand all the reasonings and consequences of man. They only see the reasoning in the moment... ham bone... yum. Bruno's mistake was to take that ham bone and enjoy it on the living room carpet. The rage and tempest that proceeded from her husband was of such great magnitude that no love was left in his heart for this special dog - only hatred. He despised Bruno. The ham bone was simply the excuse he needed to get rid of someone that stole his wife's attention from himself. She loved Bruno with an unconditional love that he couldn't help be jealous of. She confided to me that he was always hard on Bruno, and that it angered him that he ran away, but I don't think she ever considered that the reason Bruno might be running was, in fact, because of her husband. So, while she was on vacation with her family, and our mutual friend was watching her animals for her, I offered to take him during the vacation as a trial period, to see if he fit in with our family. We called her and asked her permission to take him for the week, and even though she was skeptical that this was the solution to her problem, she conceded that it couldn't hurt to try. She knew we had five children and three dogs already, with a fenced yard that didn't always keep them in... the dogs, that is. She wasn't sure that Bruno would get the best home with us, and that he might only prove to be a burden on an already seemingly burdened household.

A burden he was not. In fact, quite the opposite proved to be true, and we wished our other dogs were as well behaved and obedient as he. To my friend's bewilderment and surprise, we had stumbled upon a startling observation with Bruno. You see, he didn't run off - not even once. We walked through the neighborhood together, without a leash, and he stayed right with us. We let him out to do his business, and he didn't try to escape. If let out front, he stayed within calling distance and returned upon being beckoned. What?! This hard to contain canine wasn't so hard to contain! Perhaps, the reason Bruno didn't run was because he didn't feel he had anything to run from. He had found unconditional love, at last, and the fear and trembling present when I first met him was stripped away, leaving a calm and secure spirit in its place.

Our family has had the pleasure of Bruno's company for the last four years, now. He is my best friend when I am lonely and will sleep beside me when my husband is away. He is the hearthstone I warm myself beside on cold winter nights. He is the embrace I need from my mother when I am sad or have had a hard day. He is the protection I take with me on a solitary road trip and my security system when no one is at home. He is the constant in a tumultuous life of comings and goings and the ultimate giver of unconditional love. He always loves to see me, even when I look or feel terrible. He likes me even when I'm grouchy and forgives me instantly when I lose my cool over a ransacked garbage can or empty bread bag. The old roamer who used to run miles away from home, who got shot at on several occasions for stealing animals out of farmer's fur traps, and who still bears the buck shot under his skin and the scars on his feet from being entrapped himself, is now the same sweet dog lying in the sun on my bedroom floor. No longer does he emulate the greyhound's gaunt profile, or shake like a leaf in the wind. No... he is at peace, without fear, enjoying his moment in the sun.

It is now after six o’clock and I am still helping kids with homework. Just as I answer a question for Marin, then it’s Dayton’s turn…then Marin…then Dayton… You get the picture. If Vanessa wasn’t babysitting, we could throw her in the mix. Instead, she’ll probably call as soon as she gets a chance to work on her homework, and if not, we’ll be up late tonight. Luckily, Kevin got back in town late last night and is thus here to help Audra with hers. Hers is actually pretty quick… thank heavens. We are working on prime factorization for math and maps for history. I don’t remember ever having to know all the different types of projection maps available. In fact, I might indeed ask “Why is it necessary to memorize them?” Unless my child plans to become a cartographer, I see no need. And yet, here we sit detailing the strengths and weaknesses of each of the four common map projections. If Marin wants to be a cartographer someday, I’m sure she could have speedily memorized and learned about these in her cartography class. Welcome to public school… the source of certain pertinent information, but also decidedly the source of oodles and oodles of unnecessary fact memorization. I guarantee you that none of these kids of mine will remember what kinds of projections there are in a few months. And the amazing thing is that they won’t NEED to remember them… EVER. Boy howdy, do I love to waste my time, or what?! And yes... you guessed it... I'm a little bit grouchy.

On a happier note, Marin, Dayton and Vanessa are all on Student Council. They made posters and gave campaign speeches. Marin is the Secretary, Vanessa the Treasurer, and Dayton is a Class Representative. Now, we'll just have to see if they have any TIME to be on Student Council after all of their well spent time regurgitating stimulating facts about the Winkel Triple Projection Map. Sorry... just couldn't help it.

Audra is busy sewing papers together for homemade books that she makes and plans to give to all of her friends and family. She's been making them for a couple of months now and likes to copy text from other books. You can open one and read about Simba and Timone, or open another and read about Dorothy on her way to Oz. She's a sweet girl... most of the time. We actually quite prefer her when she is NOT sticking her tongue out, hitting, kicking, or telling a story about how she "didn't do it!"

In other news: our lovely snake is loose in the house. Whither he goes, we know not. I hope to find him alive and preferably not hooked onto anyone's toes. I suspect that this is Kevin's hope, as well. (but, my, doesn't Kevin have delicious looking toes? I should say...)

And with that, I bid you adieu... a final farewell. Vanessa shall grace us with her presence in a short period of time, at which point I can restart the tutoring process once again. Anyone game for a jolly time with predicates, prepositional phrases, cardinal compasses, or prime factorizations? If so, applications are being accepted during normal business hours, which at present is between the hours of seven a.m. and ten p.m. Plenty of time to submit...no excuses...

Photos of Baby Bottle Feeding

To Milk a Horse?!

I would have never even thought about the prospect of milking a horse, let alone a miniature one with miniscule teats, but that just goes to prove that life is FULL of things that I've never even thought of! Our newest addition to the Funny Farm, a little colt out of our mini mare, Bows, had a traumatic first day... and so did the owners!

We were thrilled to find that our concerns about a possibly complicated delivery, with this first time mother, were unfounded. Bows delivered her foal with no assistance (we didn't know she was even doing it) and proved to be a natural little mother. Unfortunately, her teats are small and the baby couldn't wrap his little tongue around them. It wasn't until midday that we realized that he wasn't getting latched on and getting the colostrum he so desperately needs to ward off infection. Baby horses get no immunity from placental transfer; only through passive transfer through colostrum. A foal who receives no immunoglobulins antibodies has a 75% chance of falling ill; one who receives partial antibodies still suffers a 50% chance.

Realizing the importance of this colostrum, I worked out a way to extract it from Bows, a process that she was not particularly fond of. The foal suckled off a bottle for a time, and then we tried bucket feeding, which seemed like the best way to go... until we tried it the next time 'round. I started bottle feeding the baby at about 4:00 p.m. and continued on every 15 to 40 minutes until 5:00 a.m. this morning. We threw a couple of bean bags down on the floor of the horse shelter and I settled in for a night of milking, feeding and keeping warm baby. Marin stayed the night with me and was able to sleep... lucky girl! It was windy and chilly and a bit on the uncomfortable side, but what else could we do? My discomfort through the night was a whole lot less than the discomfort we would feel upon finding our darling colt dead in the morning. It was worth it.

The rest of the story is coming in the next post...

The Cat Who Loves Watermelon?!

This is our cat, Dusty, who apparently loves watermelon... and smores! He just couldn't stay away from the food tonight. I've never had a cat who wanted fruit or marshmallows, for goodness sake! Silly kitty!

It's a Boy!

At approximately eleven o'clock a.m., we were blessed with a little colt from our mare, Maggie! Of course, we missed the birth... again. Third time we've missed it, but we're just glad she never has any complications. This means that our other little mare should be due any day, now, since I bred them both in the same week. Let's hope Bows has the same success!

Our good friends, Annie and Ben, came over today with all of their cute kids. We roasted hot dogs and smores over the fire, ate watermelon, played with the animals, and just had a good time chatting. Dayton, Christian and Jesse went exploring down by the creek, while the others had fun with the kittens and playing on the trampoline. The first half of the day was rainy, but the last half was absolutely beautiful, as you can see from the pictures :)

Tomorrow is Memorial Day and time to visit the graves of our loved ones and spend time with our family down in Bountiful. Vanessa has been camping with a friend all weekend. We've sure missed her and are excited to see her beautiful face tomorrow when she finally gets home!

Kitty to Plant?

One of our six kittens found himself inside of this plant container... awww... cute!

Let the Castration Begin!

How was that for an attention grabbing title for this blog posting? Today was the big day for Geoffrey, our "used to be" a stud, mini horse. The vet came out and gave him the old snip and squeeze... poor guy! Geoffrey, that is. The vet couldn't be called "poor" after the awesome income he made off of the van Uitert family and their animals this day. All seven horses received their shots and wormings, as well as a few exams for the mares who are due to deliver in the next few weeks. Geoffrey's castration (or gelding) was the most interesting event of the visit, though. I was surprised that the vet left the incisions completely open... no swabbing out or stitching up, or anything. It makes sense that he didn't want to stitch up any infection that, no doubt, crept in at this non-sterile location, but still, I thought he'd do SOMETHING for the open incisions. He simply sprayed the area with fly spray, which had to feel quite splendid on Geoffrey's recently deflated ego... NOT! We'll be training him and working him everyday for the next week or two to keep the swelling down and to keep him moving. He already seemed a little mellower, which we were not expecting. Then again, waking up to find excruciating pain in the nether regions might just have a mellowing effect on a guy... ya think?

The "Almost" Rattlesnake Round-up

Kevin's brother, Brad, and his darling children came up for a visit this afternoon. While Vanessa and Marin entertained the kids on the trampoline, Kevin and I took Brad on a tour of the thriving metropolis of Beaver Dam.

Our first stop was to a neighbor's house to show Brad their huge draft horse... one of the biggest horses I've ever seen. Next, we thought we'd show him Cutler Dam Power Station, the Bear River, and some of the beautiful countryside along the way. Halfway there, another neighbor waved us down and we pulled over and hopped out. Turns out, he had been trying to call us, because his goat doe was delivering her twins, the first of which was stuck with one leg and the head sticking out. Somehow, he thought we could be of assistance... his wife said, "Call Donna... I bet she'll know what to do." Prayer and instinct would have been my only solutions, having never delivered goat kids before. We stopped by just AFTER he pulled the first one out, but he was afraid he had broken it's neck and/or legs in the process. The poor little thing was pretty worn out, but didn't appear to have any broken body parts, seeing as it could still hold it's head up and was attempting to stand. It's sluggishness, however, brought it very limited attention from it's mother, so it may turn out to be a bummer kid, anyway. (Bummer means that the mother rejects it and it will be necessary to bottle feed and hand raise the kid until it is weaned.) I proceeded to check out the baby, testing it's legs for reflex responses, cleaning off a little of the snot-like, yellow mucous hanging all over it, and listening to it breathe to see if there was possibly some esophageal damage. All in all, I'd say he was in good shape for being pulled out with the intensity and strength that was required to do the job. I helped a neighbor, last year, deliver her two puppies, and the first didn't make it through the delivery. She died because we couldn't get her out fast enough, and when the doctor made it over to help, he ended up breaking the neck pulling her out. Very distressing. I fully understood the stress this fine neighbor had in delivering that first kid. Complications are no fun and we all hope we don't have any in delivering babies! Kevin and Brad were standing by while our neighbor's son tried to help the mama deliver kid #2, and were able to witness the whole process. I think Kevin was trying to distract the mother, and even joked that he offered her some ice chips to suck on during the delivery. Funny guy! Not a bad Beaver Dam country tour, by any means...

Onward and upward to Cutler Dam... We took the little dirt road that runs along the river and showed him where the scout camp is, the better fishing areas, and a neighbor's property (hundreds of acres) in the river bottoms. On our way back out, Kevin thought he ran over a snake. He stopped the truck and we jumped out to see. Much to our surprise, we missed it completely, and were able to check out this fairly good sized reptile crossing the road. My first thoughts were to pick it up and take it back for the kids to see, but upon closer inspection, the head looked too wide, and it's demeanor, too aggressive. Even though it had no rattler on the tip of it's tail, it did have a decidedly aggressive "coil up and strike" attitude, and I just couldn't be sure that it wasn't a venomous variety. It looked a lot like the bullsnakes and gopher snakes we have caught in the past, but I've never seen one so aggressive. This snake was a good two to three feet in length and about an inch and a half in diameter. If we minus the "rattle"... it was an "almost" Rattlesnake Round-up finale to our Beaver Dam tour. How exciting is that? I was a little disappointed, later this evening, to find that the pictures online really DID resemble just a gopher/bullsnake, and we probably would have been fine to grab it. However, when in doubt, stay a good distance out, right? Right... According to this online source, the gopher/bullsnakes can flatten out their heads and imitate a rattler to scare off predators. It worked :)

The posted pictures are of Max, Sadie and Audra on the trampoline, walking and riding on Banner, and a little interaction between Brad, Sadie and the goat kids. Check out Sadie's face with those goats! She's NOT a fan... However, her brother helped me milk Isabella, brush Banner and even walk him back to his corral. Way to go, Max! And thanks for coming up, Brad... it was great to see you all!

Saturday with the van Uiterts, Rapps and Madsens

Here are a few pictures that my sweet sister-in-law, Kelli, took from their visit with us last Saturday :)

Cheetos & Chickens

I sit here at 2:00 in the morning munching on cheetos and listening to the chicks talk to each other. Everyone in the house is asleep, except for me and my little feathered friends, whose shadows from the brooding light are dancing on the wall and floor as they fight over an unlucky moth who somehow fluttered too close to their cage. Twice, in the last hour, I've added more food to their feed container, and each time I do, one or two of them pecks at my wedding ring... they must be attracted to the sparkle of the diamond. They also can't wait patiently for me to spoon their meal into the tray - they are pecking it off of the spoon in midair! It doesn't matter that they still have food in the tray... the NEW food coming in is always more exciting. I guess that's a lot like human nature, isn't it? It doesn't matter how many blessings or great things we have in our lives - we are always looking for something more exciting on the horizon. Totally random, I know.

One particular chick - a buff orpington - is different from the others, in that she is more interested in the giver of the food, than in the food itself. I think she and I will be great friends! She looks at me like she wants to know me. Strange sounding, I admit, but she is particularly studious. She is also very calm. While the other buff orpington and two leghorns are jumping around fighting and asserting themselves, she stands on the sideline simply taking it all in... watching that interesting creature with the silver can and the spoon dispense her food. If I were only reading this, and not observing her myself, I would wonder if she was ill - inactivity is a symptom of illness in animals. (I must have been ill all winter... lol) However, she is not ill... she's just very peaceful and SMART, obviously thinking outside the box, or rabbit cage, in this case. Most likely she's just too mature spiritually and intellectually to participate in substandard chicken activities. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find a little DaVinci style feed sculpture in the tray in the morning... hmm... or perhaps an equally impressive feat - find her doing the "Hammer Time" dance to the amazement of her chicky friends... "dooo do do do... do do... do do... can't touch this!" It must be late. ;P

Our Pups

Bruno (Vizsla) and Bella (Boxer)... and only one of Shawntee! (Pekingese)

Swing Low Sweet Chariot

Take a looksy at my pregnant miniature horse mare, Bows... Holy Shmoly! The minis are all still toting around their winter bulk of fur, but still... she's HUGE! Her stomach is practically sweeping the ground! Poor thing... We've never bred her before, and seeing how large she is, I'm hoping she's going to be okay. Maybe she just LOOKS dramatically larger than the average pregnant horse because she's so tiny. This might be something similar to how my heighth of 5'9" spread my weight and proportion out just a tad bit more than my sweet 5'2" sister-in-law, Nancy. The baby has to fit somewhere, right? I just have more room to carry the load, and perhaps that's the same scenario with Bows. Maggie was bred on the same date, but she looks nowhere near the size. Time for the Doc to make a farm call and check out the girls!