Friday night and I have put the dog outside for a little
peace and quiet. The wind howls and I decide since it
isn't too cold I will clean up. Throw stuff away. Get rid
of all the clutter. And I carry the bag of trash out and
around the barns and across the newly graveled parking
lots and drives and around the breeding barn lab and
heave the trash into the dumpster. I've collected an
as I check to see how all the baby foals are doing.
walk to one of the back pastures hoping to catch a
glimpse of the other mares and their babies already turned
out. But Im not even sure this is the pasture where they
are kept. and Wiley the Australian Shepard trots back to
the barns with me. This week was a good one. After 7
months I have figured out how to reconcile the checking
account and get up to September and discover that is the
one month that is missing and have to ask the boss to prin
Creative and non logical. That's me. He looks hopeful.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
WEATHER
Folks love to talk about the weather and Texas weather
gives them something to talk about. Twenty-nine degrees
in the morning and seventy-six degrees by 3 PM.
My dog noticed. He got sick. And since I kiss his little
face (not on the mouth no no no!) I must have caught
his sniffles. I lay in bed in the upstairs portion of my
barn apartment and listen to the wind howl around the
support beams outside and expect at any minute my
television and Internet will blitz out. Now downstairs
sipping coffee with an unhealthy amount of vanilla
creamer in it, I see through the curtainless kitchen
window the low grey sky. Ranch workers crank up the
tractor engines and the music begins. My dog rolls
out of his house and does his sleepy downward dog pose
followed by a couple coughs. Corgis are not stupid so if
I want to insert a syringe into his mouth and pump
antibiotics into him, he wants time to figure it all out.
No random drive by pumping. This guy wants to have a
presentation. Half way through this presentation I jam the
medicine in and he figures it out after the fact. That he
doesn't follow this act of violence upon him with a round of
harsh barks means it wasn't all that bad.
gives them something to talk about. Twenty-nine degrees
in the morning and seventy-six degrees by 3 PM.
My dog noticed. He got sick. And since I kiss his little
face (not on the mouth no no no!) I must have caught
his sniffles. I lay in bed in the upstairs portion of my
barn apartment and listen to the wind howl around the
support beams outside and expect at any minute my
television and Internet will blitz out. Now downstairs
sipping coffee with an unhealthy amount of vanilla
creamer in it, I see through the curtainless kitchen
window the low grey sky. Ranch workers crank up the
tractor engines and the music begins. My dog rolls
out of his house and does his sleepy downward dog pose
followed by a couple coughs. Corgis are not stupid so if
I want to insert a syringe into his mouth and pump
antibiotics into him, he wants time to figure it all out.
No random drive by pumping. This guy wants to have a
presentation. Half way through this presentation I jam the
medicine in and he figures it out after the fact. That he
doesn't follow this act of violence upon him with a round of
harsh barks means it wasn't all that bad.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Oh Baby Baby
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
SPOILED
My dog has gone from grateful to where's mine
in the short span of 2 months. He barks if we get off his
schedule, he barks if I don't continually pet him in the car
and rub his little legs that get stiff when he lays down, he
barks when he is hungry, when we have been in the office
too long and he wants to go outside. He barks outside until
I follow him and he leads me down to the pond where he
runs patrol around the perimeter chasing geese and birds.
He barks because he wants to speak. He makes gutteral
sounds but gives up and barks. It's so much easier.
Especially since he is a dog.
in the short span of 2 months. He barks if we get off his
schedule, he barks if I don't continually pet him in the car
and rub his little legs that get stiff when he lays down, he
barks when he is hungry, when we have been in the office
too long and he wants to go outside. He barks outside until
I follow him and he leads me down to the pond where he
runs patrol around the perimeter chasing geese and birds.
He barks because he wants to speak. He makes gutteral
sounds but gives up and barks. It's so much easier.
Especially since he is a dog.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A VACATION FROM THE DOGS
From our fourth floor balcony I look out over downtown Austin.
A bit like Paris in its beige understated two-story existence. I have
had my breakfast, showered and gotten back into the comfy Driskoll
Hotel robe. No creeping down the steps to see if I can catch my
little dog sleeping in his doghouse, all curled up and snuggly in the
back and deep within the cushion. Some mornings he stretches in the
doghouse and sometimes he barks without getting up. Without lifting his
head he barks good morning. I can even pull him out while still on his side
like I was unloading a torpedo on a ship and he remains on his side once
out of his house and on the apartment carpet. He sits at my feet as I
move about making coffee but once I speak to him he's awake. He gets
lovingly shoved outside until my morning time is up and I have to go to the
office in the main barn and give the other dog her medications. Itchy,
scratchy, neuroic meds. Hopefully before she has had a chance to make a
huge doggie mess because she was not let out in time. My dog barks
hello and the other ranch dogs appear, if they are not already sitting at
attention at our door. In the office everyone gets cheese. Cheese with the
meds for one and cheese because I have to be fair with the others.
And now out and across the pasture and to the pond where geese have
rested on their annual trek. The winds blow and its cold and thank you
for the ranch jacket with hood and the scarf and mittens.
And it's a vacation from my dogs barking for what anymore I don't
even know. He has been fed, petted, walked and he pooed. If he
could speak english it would probably be something like "Hey you
petted someone else and not me." No more calling back the herd of
dogs when the UPS or FEDEX truck pulls up. Then there's the bark that says
time for another walk and no we won't venture out alone. And the bark for
work day's over and time to go. And just the rustling of paws near my
desk chair that says I love you and want to be touched again please.
Nope none of that. This is a vacation from the dogs.
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