Just Stuff

It's dirty-dog and dirty-horse time. 

Fingers crossed that the mud event around here may not last as long as usual. 

As Bill has often noted, the ground did not freeze very hard this winter, so melting snow turning to water has been able to go down into the ground. 

Still, there's enough of that mud to create quite a sight for any horse that gets down and rolls. 

I was able to spend some time giving them some scissor haircuts in their bridle paths, which makes them look a little more presentable. 

Like so many things in spring, things look a lot worse before they get better. 

In other news, I've released many small birds who've come up through the open areas in our greenhouse floor. 

Yesterday, this chickadee was bouncing off the walls when I walked by.  

It usually takes a few bounces before the birds finally settle into a spot where I can pick them up and let them fly outside the building. 

It was pretty satisfying yesterday attending to little projects around the place, including removing the Christmas tree and the last of the Christmas decorations from the deck.

We can almost walk to the north steps of the deck, thanks to the melting of that six-foot snowbank.  It's got a ways to go, but the snow is getting softer and manageable for walking. 

Today and tomorrow's warmer temperatures should bring on some welcome and dramatic differences in the outdoor landscape. 

We trudge on toward full-fledged spring!

 

Festus said good bye this morning. 

I went to the shop where he has lived for more than 15 years. 

He rose from his bed, walked a few steps and meowed, like he always does. 

I noticed he hadn't eaten all of his dinner, so I took his dish to the kitchen and washed it. 

When I came back, he was somewhat propped up in his bed but then lay down flat on his side. 

It was pretty evident that he was taking his last breaths, thankfully, in the comfort of his own bed. 

I went inside and told Bill, who went to the shop, determined for sure that he had passed.  

I believe Festus knew what was coming and hung on to share one final meow.  I'm sure it was a good bye.

He was 19 years old.  He had experienced diabetes for a few years, necessitating my getting over my hatred for needles and learning to give him two shots a day every day. 

Finally, it was determined that Festus had beaten the diabetes, so no more shots. 

We continued to feed him special Purina food and, as noted on past blog posts, have had to shop around many times to find it, but we did.

With Festus' passing, we have said good bye to the last of our beloveds which lived with us at the farm on Great Northern Road. 

The end of an era and a truly cool cat.  

RIP, Festus.