Lessons from Harold

Harold is our newest member of the family.  He was found at my work and was in need of a home at the same time that fate left us with a vacancy.  He helped us all (Including Henry our other fuzzy buddy) through a rough patch.

If I am honest, I have recently been worried about whether or not Harold is "all there".  He is an adorable and loving dog, but he often has a vacant expression that leaves you wondering what he is thinking, or if he thinks at all.  He struggles with some of the things that I would expect that a dog his age shouldn't have any difficulties with like avoiding "accidents".  Every time he is left at home, regardless of the duration, we are almost sure to find a wet spot in the same general area of the carpet.  It has become somewhat of a running joke as a means of maintaining our sanity about the situation.   He is freaked out by noises no matter how may times he hears them.  He will chew his racquetball for hours on end and get excited when it pops out of his mouth mid chew - even for the hundredth time.

Tonight as I fret over the uncertainties of life I am able to lean a lesson even from Harold, particularly a dubious source.  His doggie IQ could certainly be debated, but what is unquestionable is that he is happy.  This leads me to believe that maybe, just maybe, he thinks just the right amount.

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Photo by Kerrie Wooten

All kidding aside, this picture is an example of the types of candid goofiness that we can sometimes run across during a day's work at the Farm.  In this case, I was going down to feed Elliot and notices that he looked a little different.  I surmise that he got his "big boy" collar caught on the hay ring feeder and managed to pull it up over his forehead where it remained.  The fact that he looked so casual and cool about it, made it hilarious and Kerrie was nice enough to bring a camera so that we could capture this funny moment to share here.

"Gotten Good at Goodbye"





On June 9th, 2013 our beloved Heidi passed away.  It was a day that I had been dreading for a long time.  Each new birthday seemed like a reminder of how finite life is and an omen.  She was our baby for over fifteen years and it was impossible for me to remember what my life felt like without her familiar face and behaviors. 

 

 

 

 

 

It was early Sunday morning when Lori came into the bedroom and said that something was wrong.  I could tell from her face that this was something serious.  When I saw Heidi in the laundry room, she seemed disoriented and unable to stand up.  I picked her up and brought her back to our bed, honestly believing that she had probably minutes left.  Her breathing was faint and shallow and she didn't seem to recognize what was going on around her.  Lori and I lay on either side of her waiting for what felt like the inevitable.  I tried to reassure us both that this was the best possible way for it to happen. 

I counted breaths and intervals and looked into her eyes looking for a sign.  For the first ten minutes, it seemed like I was right about her condition, but as it approached the thirty minute point it seemed like she was stable enough to make it to the vet.  Neither of us had any misconceptions at that point, but we also didn't want her to be suffering.  Her lack of awareness could have been due to some unperceived pain or discomfort that she was trying to hide from us.

The rest of the morning is somewhat of a blur.  I don't remember who drove to the vet.  I do recall watching the light wane from her eyes after the decision was made to let her go.  I know that I tried to look stronger than I felt since Lori was there and I needed to.  After signing the requisite paperwork, we were on our way home to our new world.  And I waited for the long dreaded dark crush to hit.

As I type these words, I am still waiting for it to hit me.  I certainly miss her; I still expect to see her in the hall when I come home.  I feel sad when I see the spot that she occupied for so long in the corner of the room, where the carpet is permanently worn down from her slumbers.  When we got home from the vet, I had rushed to the side of the bed to see if the zip-lock bag of hair that I had collected during our last brushing session was still there.  And I still see elements of her in the world around me as I wait.

There is a George Strait song called, "Baby's Gotten Good at Goodbye".  Pondering these lyrics, I fear that there is an answer in them.  As much as I love my job, there is a stark reality that I have lost a lot of friends here, more than I could probably count.  For the last year or so, each one felt like a dress rehearsal for the day when it would be Heidi's time.  It made each incident all the more depressing.

As I continue to wait for the pain that I have so long dreaded, I worry that I have effectively inoculated myself against being able to feel something so poignant ever again.  I can only imagine that my mind has begun to process things differently.  I don't think that it is akin to a callous, as much as it is a need to keep moving on, trying to stay ahead of the hurt.

In so many ways, this would be a welcome evolution since there is only so much pain that any of us can feel before a sense of hopelessness comes upon us like a muddy bog that turns every moment into a slog.  The problem is that I want my pain.  I want the hot tears, the inability to feel or think of anything else, at least for a while.  I want the debilitation that I have felt so many times before and which seems like a proper tribute to love lost.  Until I can feel that, I will continue to wait for a closure that may not ever come.  I think I may have "gotten too good at goodbye"...

Musings on Celebration for the Turkeys 2012

Today we had our Celebration for the Turkeys in Orland.  While the weather was iffy, the rain held off for most of the day.  I think it took all of our good karma to preempt a storm.  I was assigned to the Sheep and Goat Barn which meant that I would be hanging out with and talking about some of my best friends.  This was happy news for me. 

I had decided that Madeline and Molly would be included as part of the guest experience.  Madeline and Molly were normally relegated to the "penalty box" during tours since they could be a little rowdy, but I had faith in them.  Add to that the fact that they are so darn cute and it feels like keeping them away from the people would be short-changing them. 

I mean come on, they are fricking adorable!

The guests started coming in around 1:15 and everything went really well.  Madeline was adorable and Molly was preternaturally photogenic.  I suspect that they are both Facebook celebrities by now (I will never know since I will never use Facebook again). 

The first couple hours went by really quick.  While there was a steady flow of people in and out, I had ample opportunity to answer questions and share personal anecdotes.  It was around that time that I heard a high pitched scream.  A brief investigation yielded a report that Madeline had "butted" a small child.  Now, it needs to be noted that Madeline is my baby, and like any good parent, I will go to my grave convinced that it was the kid's fault and that my little angel was in the right. 

However, since I was on the job, I had to be diplomatic.  I sprang into action and ensured that the child wasn't hurt and his father confirmed that he was fine.  The boy, who was probably about four, was not acting like it though and eventually his dad asked if he wanted to leave.  Through tears and in a wavering voice, he replied "No", and alluded to the fact that the "mean goat was by the door."  In order to resolve the situation, I tried to direct Madeline into a side stall, but she wasn't interested.  She was quite adamant that she was the victim and didn't like the fact that I was taking the boy's side without hearing her side of the story.  She wasn't budging and the only way I was going to get her out of the door was to pick her up.

Before I go on, I need to share a little back story.  As I was preparing my clothes for today I had set aside three shirts, three pairs of shorts, three pairs of socks, and three pairs of underwear in preparation for a wet and muddy work day.  I had also meant to bring my belt, but when I got to work, I proved the adage that "the road to hell is paved with good intentions".  This wouldn't be a problem if I has still as heavy as I used to be, but since I had lost some inches around the waist it put me at a risk of losing my shorts without a belt.  As a triage I had rolled the waistband over which has the effect of tightening them enough to keep them above my hips with an occasional pull up from time to time.

Back to Madeline.  She continued to protest her innocence and as I focused on her horns which posed the greater damage, her little kicking legs unrolled the top of my shorts and gravity teamed up with my knife and radio to make them start dropping.  Standing there with two hands full of goat I couldn't hike my shorts back up so I had no choice but to drop to my knees, which was coincidentally where the waistband of my shorts were!  I sat down and tried to pull my shirt down while restraining Madeline long enough for the boy and his father to leave...but they didn't.  They just stood there.  Meanwhile, the sight of me with Madeline in my lap was drawing a number of "Oohs" and "Aahs" and flashes from cameras.  As if that wasn't bad enough, Joey, an adorable lamb who had been shadowing me most of the day, decided to come over and visit with me and Madeline.  More pictures were taken in what seemed like an eternity as I waited to be able to let Madeline go. 

Finally the man and his son walked out and I let Madeline go.  This wasn't the end of my ordeal, however.  Now I was sitting with my shorts around my knees with the daunting challenge of getting them pulled back up without it being too obvious; and it's not like I could just sit there and formulate a plan because without Madeline on my lap my predicament was even more obvious than before.

I would like to believe that I pulled it off discretely without anyone being any the wiser but I have to wonder if the people with the cameras will see the image in a whole new light when they see their pictures blown up across their computer screens.  Maybe 2012 be known as the year where indecent exposure was on the menu at the Celebration for the Turkeys!

Just Another Day at the Office

Since I had a two hour lunch today, I had some extra time to hand out with some of my friends at work.  First, I would like to introduce Gwendolyn Duck (Or Gwennie, for short).  She has been with us for a little over a month now. 

She is quite a character, and by far the loudest duck on the Farm.  It has been fun watching her be introduced to the world around her.  When she first arrived, she was in a small isolation stall with a water bowl that was barely bigger than she was.  This wouldn't stop her from jumping in and quite literally being the big duck in a small pond.  After a few weeks, she became a small duck in a big pond.  This new world wasn't always easy for her.  Initially she was stalked by Della Duck around the yard before making friends with Gordy Duck (Sadly she is a girl with a boy's name).  It was adorable to see Gordy intercept Della as she was tailing Gwennie.  The video below features a good shot of Gwen at her water bowl, a chance encounter with Gordy, and a swim in the pond.  Gordy's quacks are reminiscent of a child calling to their mother: "Mom, watch me.  Mom, see how fast I am...Mom...Mom...You're not watching!"

After visiting with Gwen and her friends, I paid a visit to the Pig Barn.  I had an apple left in my pocket from my trip to feed Edward Cow some treats earlier and I knew just who to share it with...Cesak.  I shot some more video of him eating it and captured a funny response as Reggie Pig heard the chomping and tried to confirm that Cesak had an apple by smelling his breath and, at one point, seemed intent to extract it from his mouth!

Cesak then repaid my treat by laying on my lap and going to sleep.  The sound of pig snoring kept me from drifting off to sleep, but it was probably better to be in the moment.

Lastly, I visited with my old Goat Buddies and promised I would post their pictures.

First is "my baby" Madeline.  Isn't she lovely!



She really likes being scratched between her horns...

...and on her chin.  Every goat seems to have a slightly different sweet spot, but between the horns is pretty common.  A closer inspection of her left horn seems to invalidate her claim that she hasn't been picking on the sheep since there is a suspicious tuft of wool in it.

Madeline then introduced her friend Molly.  She and Molly get "play dates" every Saturday during tour season since they can get a little rowdy with visitors and they have bonded over these.

Madeline bet Molly that she couldn't touch her nose with her tongue...

...and then used the opportunity to photo bomb her (Molly looks less than impressed)!

While Madeline was off laughing it up, Molly let me get this beautiful shot of her smile.

And those were some of my exploits for the day and the reasons why I do what I do.  It is particularly nice to enjoy your job when you look at the alternative...I Wouldn't Want to be This Guy!

Everything I Know I Learned from Chickens

In the spirit of "recycling", I figured I would make a blog entry out of a recent project that I was working on for a friend of mine who was moving on to her next life adventure.  I hope that it will fill the overall theme of this blog and be entertaining.

When you see your reflection, always check to make sure that you are smiling.


 

Make a joyful noise wherever you go.
 

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it defines the chicken.
 

Some chickens are just jerks and there's not much we can do about it.

The best way to approach a challenge is one bite at a time.

It's cool to be a trend-setter, even if no one else follows you.

In times of abundance, it's important to share.

Sometimes the "biggest worm you've ever seen" turns out to be a garden hose in disguise.

If you've got it, flaunt it!



(Dust) baths make every day a little bit more bearable.

You can be the"pot of gold" at the end of some one's rainbow.

Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.

When your wings are clipped, welcome it as an invitation to reacquaint yourself with things close to home.

Keeping your head down when things get too crazy is a sound strategy.

You can't always choose your situation, but you can choose to make the best of it.

The chicken crossed the road to get where she was going.

The best place in the world will always be among friends.

Chickens don't have a word for goodbye because you are never far from their hearts.

My Lunch Mates

Today was somewhat of an annoying day, so I think that it is a good time to turn that around by sharing a recent memory that will certainly be filed along with my most cherished.

Lately I have taken to hanging out with the pigs at lunch time, after I have finished eating (You would not want to try eating in there, trust me!).    This generally takes the form of me hanging out with Cesak, my BPFF (Best Pig Friend Forever).  On this particular day, I was resting my head on Cesak's side while reading a book.  He was sleeping, but would periodically sniff and snort to see if there was anything interesting going on.  I had been reading for some time when Reggie Pig came walking by.  Reggie is hilarious because he is the youngest and smallest of the pigs, but he is fearless in challenging the rest of the mob (That is an approved term for a group of pigs...I looked it up).

Since Reggie was making a loud ruckus, I expected that my peaceful moment with Cesak was nearing its end.  The two of them went back and forth with some oinks before Reggie proceeded to lay himself on my lap.

After the initial shock of having "little" Reggie join me, I had to pause to marvel in just how cool this was.  There are many magical moments that I have experienced, but it is always particularly special when our animal friends seek us out for these unions. 

Before he joined us here at the Sanctuary, Reggie was destined to be slaughtered as part of a writer's exploitative story.  I only wish that she had been there to experience who Reggie has become, and to see him in a whole new light.

This bonding experience made my day and reliving this memory has snapped me out of the slight funk I carried home with me.  Thanks Reggie!