Hot Mess Express

 

Choo Choo 🚂

All aboard, farm friends - next stop: Not exactly roses and unicorns, but still somehow magical

Possum Kingdom (formally Peace and Love Acres.....RIP to that dream) 

I think it's time to officially rename the farm to Possum Kingdom. Population me, my farm animals, and apparently every possum within a 5-mile radius.  Welcome to the barn. A possum will be with you shortly.

You remember Suzie Q, right? My original barn free-loader. She would come to visit and happily enjoy the delicious cat food in the barn (always meant for June Bug, Cricket and Kitty). This all came to a screeching halt once I caught her, caged her and took her for a ride. Did you know I offer a free express relocation service, operated by yours truly. 

Well, apparently she left a Yelp review. 

Enter Jeff aka The Audacity.

Yo a big boy

Jeff is bigger. Bolder. And frankly, ruder. This man - because yes, he gives strong middle-aged man who doesn't return his shopping cart energy - would:

* Open the cat food container lid

* Eat the cat food

* Leave the lid off like a savage

* AND "mark" the area like he pays rent

Jeff. Sir. This is not your Airbnb.

Now it's a matter of time to catch you red handed. Or should I say claw handed. Their fingers are real, yall. And catch Jeff I did, but not without the assistance of my super heros Dutch and Penny - who had him cornered in the barn so I can then perform my signature move of Shovel, Scrapper, Crate and Pray. 

Apparently, word has not gotten around in the possum community that I have a PhD in trapping and re-locating possums with barn utensils. Your family will miss you when you don't come home. Where's dad? Come to think about it, they may not miss him. 😉

It took a minute to get Jeff in the crate because he fought me hard - and Dutch and Penny lose their helping ability when I start trying to make my own magic happen. They turn it into a WWE Smackdown. Mission: Must kill the possum.

But I finally got him crated, loaded in the back of my truck - awaiting daylight for my express relocation service the next day. Sleep well, Jeff.

Did I mention it was 10:30 PM and pitch black when this went down. Dogs screaming, adrenaline pumping. Me in pajamas making life choices. Chaos level: Unwell.

In a moment of poor judgement (sleep brain is real), I allowed Theo (5 lbs of delusion), Char (his equally unqualified assistant) and Sugar (all bark acting like she's helping) to join the mission.

They contributed nothing except drama. Theo thought he was in charge. Char said, "I support this bad decision" and Sugar gave me a headache.

Char was all in and took her job 
as wingman very seriously

Well, Char got bit by Jeff because Jeff don't play. Theo was either grazed by sharp possum teeth - or scratched by possum claws - who really knows in the madness of it all. The Littles: Zero Stars, Would Not Recommend.

He was not esp pleased with my dropoff 
location choice. I thought it was quite nice.

Bye Jeff. Hello Junior. Because of course there's another one.

Me: Not again
Universe: Again

Not even 48 hours later. Same barn. Same cat food. Same nonsense.

It's about right now your saying to yourself, can't she do something about that cat food in the barn?! Why yes I can - and have since done so. But that's a later story.

For now, I gotta get Junior. Another night, another repeat of that-certain-bark barking episode telling me that's somethings going down in the barn. This time, I came prepared. No Littles. Just me, my tools, and a late-night idea that felt brilliant at the time. 

I get to the barn and Penny and Dutch have Junior trapped behind the wheelbarrow. Perfect, I tell them, as I go to get the crate, shovel and scrapper. (aka my tools).  This time though......I do something different. I do the Plastic Bin Maneuver. I notice a plastic bin nearby (that was empty of feed) and suddenly decided to use it as a trap. I finagled Junior from behind the wheelbarrow and BOOM put the plastic bin over him, holding it down firmly so he doesn't get away. 

Now, what to do....huuuummm....oh I know, I'll make a little guardrail action with my chicken feeder - and the bin of chicken scratch - so that when I begin to open up the upside down plastic bin, Junior is forced to straight - right into the crate. Sounds good, right?!

So it's hard to tell, but Junior does go straight into the crate and then straight back into the bin because Penny and Dutch scared the hell out of him and the bin somehow seemed safer. So I use the scrapper (because it has a nice flat end to it just the right size to corral small predators) and force him into the crate. Possums are strong. He was fighting me the whole time and then I shove him in the crate with my scrapper and shut the door real fast. Whew! It was not graceful.

Me

Now to do my usual thing of taking the crate to my truck and let him sleep there until it's relocation time in the morning. 

The video is only 7 seconds long, but if you look close, you can see Junior climbing the cage like Spider-Man once I get him in it. He was Spider-Man the whole time I was trying to get him across the pasture and load the crate in the truck. It's hard to load the crate up into the bed of the truck and not get bit when he's climbing everywhere in the crate. He did make it a little more challenging not because of his size (he's small) but because of his agility. 10/10 for climbing skills. 0/10 for house manners.

Junior Junior Junior, what sharp
teeth (and claws!) you have

Yeah, you already showed me your
climbing skills.

Moral of the story: PUT. THE. CAT. FOOD. UP. 

Possums are nocturnal creatures and can smell cat food from another zip code. Funny how I've lived here a year now and had no problems with possums until recently. Sorry Kitty, Cricket and June Bug, you can only eat during the day now. 

Just for the record, I now use a bungee cord to secure the cat food can like I'm securing cargo for a hurricane. Possums basically have fingers to open it. The have actual little HANDS. If they would have just shut the lid, I might not have noticed they had been there. Penny and Dutch would probably notice - unless they have bigger fish to fry. 

Another note-worthy possum fun fact is that you'll need to rehome them at least 5 miles away - or they'll likely come back. Yeppers, I've thought about shooting them with my shot gun. I just haven't yet but maybe I will. For some reason, I find it less guilt consuming to shoot a snake and oddly very satisfying. Possums are disgusting, but snakes are the worse - in my book. I'll shoot a snake in a hot minute. Lucky for me, the snakes are just waking up from their long winters nap and not readily out and about. Too cold for their cold bloodied bodies I guess. But guess what......I'm ready for you. 

2 Things

First, let's talk Dora.

Not pleased

So as I'm busy living my life, and I let Dora graze a little too long on the sweet green grass. Dora said, "Great, I'll just almost founder real quick." 

Cue the panic. Granted, I know better. I've had Dora and Hope for many years now and watch to make sure I take them off green grass ASAP. But no, I'm diddling around and not paying attention when I notice her walking slow. Then she's laying down. Hum. That's odd. Then it hits me. She's trying to founder. 

So I call Kevin, my neighbor who has mini's, who turns out has had this same thing happen to his. He told me what to do and gave me his vet's phone number to also call. Way to save the day, Kev! 

And while on the phone with Kevin, he happens to mention if I know anybody selling a mini donkey because his wife really wants one. I'm hesitant. What do I say? 

Kevin knows I have mini donkeys because he saw them when he came to shred (mow down) my back pasture last year. Which he did a fabulous job in the back pasture. Thank you, Kevin.

So I tell him I might have one available (Emerald) but that I'd need to talk to my daughter about this. And also, gave full disclosure regarding Emmie's idiosyncrasies including some of the following (not a complete list) tendency to bite, step on toes intentionally, and wants all the attention. Kevin says, 'That's okay! Some of our mini horses are as well." 

Emmie is a tough lil donkey to have. I actually have to halter her when visitors come over because of her unwelcoming behaviors. So I do indeed talk to Lauren (who's experienced Emmie and her ways) and Lauren says okay to giving her to Kevin and his wife - who only leave 1.5 miles from me. When Kevin comes over, he drives his tractor from his house to my house. It's that close.

I'm still in ER Farm Mode regarding Dora through all this. So I call the vet who tells me to pen up Dora, feed her only hay, give her pain medications and plenty of water. I do exactly as directed. 

Dora did great penned up and in 'isolation' 

I created this temporary holding pen for Dora by using some of my portable fencing in the goats pen/area. I choose this location because I wanted to make sure Dora had overhead coverage and this was the best option. You know me, always moving fencing. 

And of course, Hope got upset that Dora was out of their regular area and she let me know about it. Running around in a panic and neighing with anxiety, so I let Hope stay in the goat pen so she could be close to Dora. Hope is a great friend and stood by her bestie as she recovered.

And Dora recovered within a week. Luckily, I was able to catch it early, and things did not get really bad for her. But no more sweet, green grass for her. She's on hay and feed - as I've always done when Spring arrives. That's what I get for not paying close enough attention - a healthy reminder to take them off the green grass in the Spring. Noted. Hay only, no salad bar. 

Second, let's talk Emmie.

After I called Kevin back to let him know I have approval to gift his wife her desired lil mini donkey, he was VERY excited. He asked to come over that next evening so that they could see her and meet her. Kevin was so cute, he had told his wife, Crystal that he wanted to take her somewhere for a surprise. Little did Crystal know she was coming to my place to look at a mini donkey. I had told Kevin I would have a purple halter on Emmie so he could tell his wife which one was the one. 

The bounced out of their truck when they arrived, as Crystal was still not sure why she's at a neighbors farm. Then.....Kevin surprised her with the news with the offer of Emerald, the one in the purple halter.

Crystal was so surprised and immediately said, "I've been wanting a mini donkey!!" and could not get to her fast enough. It was love at first site for the both of them. Crystal came with apple treats in her pockets. The love affair begun. She asked if she could come get her the next evening. I swallowed hard.

It all happened so fast. Dora wasn't even recovered yet, that's how fast it went from Do you want.....to Yes I want. I really didn't think she'd want Emmie because she's a hot mess express - but Crystal leaned into all Emmie's nuances of biting, nibbling her clothes, pushing her around and stepping on her feet. They were meant to be  🫏 💕

I had warned them I would cry when they took Emerald, and I did. The next afternoon - as soon as I got home from work - they drove over to get her. Crystal was giddy. Emmie was unsure now as it wasn't fun and games in her safe place anymore. And getting Emmie away from her mama, Pippa, was tough. Separating mama and baby was the most heartbreaking and heart wrenching thing that's happened on the farm in a long time. I even had to put another chain and lock on the gate because Pippa was trying to break it down to get to Emmie. Ugh. I cried. They drove away. Pippa cried and cried, with noises I've never heard her make before. Her heart was broken and she was telling the world. 

Sad Me

Emmie was 1 1/2 years old when she left that day in the trailer taking her to a new world with new friends. Weaned, yes. A mama's girl. Yes. Would she be loved by Crystal? Absolutely, a hard yes. Would she have new friends? 

They don't know it yet, but 
you'll be chasing them soon 😉

Yes, lots of miniature horses to befriend and play with. It was the hardest right thing to do. 

And now, Pippa can rest. She's old. So is Poppy. They are old donkeys, Poppy with very few teeth left. Poppy and Pippa are the bestest of best friends - and are back to the good ole days of cleaning each other, laying with each other and being in a more peaceful state of life with the wild and crazy lil girl gone. It took a couple of days, but Pippa settled nicely. She's back to the lazy donkey daze that she had before she had her wild child.

My heart has also settled into a place of peace for Poppy and Pippa - and Emmie as well. Emmie needs young, playful friends. And Crystal doesn't work and plays with all her 'babies' (mini's) outside - a lot of the day. I was afraid of two things: 1) Crystal would just let Emmie live in her house and Kevin would forever be mad at me, or 2) Crystal was going to call me and say she's bringing Emmie back because she's "too much". It could really go either way, honestly. I've received no call yet.

Dora is back in action and with her bestie, Hope. Poppy and Pippa are content and living their retired life. I'm happy for all of them. But there was something I would need to do......

I would need to move fencing around (surprise surprise) so that the availability of green grass is very limited (until summer comes) for Dora and Hope.

  

Moving fencing, taking t-post out, and putting them back in, in a way, keeps me strong. 

Super-Model-Hair Me after
fencing all day

I actually had my appt with MD Anderson on Friday and my oncologist gave me a A++. He said those words. He also said I looked like I was in my forties and not sixties, so I'm not sure what weight I give his words. But I'll take the A++ and tell you this: I won't always be that. And the fact my oncologist at MDA is happy for me, and happy when he gets to tell a cancer patient that things are good right now (his words also) is truly a gift. I was so emotional that day, knowing that in this moment, I'm okay. I'll take all the days like this that God gives me. My heart is full. I drove back home from Houston in disbelief that life is so good. So good that it makes me cry sometimes. My cancer is a progressive cancer and there's no stopping it. I just hope it's slow as a turtle, knowing full well that turtle wins the race. Slow and steady. I'm here for it. Now what fence do I want to move next.....

Foster Love 

My newest set of foster kittens

Welcome Lil Orange, Big Orange and Boots (thank you, Brooks for the awesome names!). These are three lil kittens who lost their mittens  mama and have upper respiratory infections, wonky and infected eyes, each in a temporary wink. They are considered 'medical kittens' as they need medications to clear up their wonkiness. 

So each morning and evening, I give a small syringe of nutritional supplement, oral (liquid) antibiotics and eye ointment which no cat loves. They see me coming and although skeptical, they allow me to administer their meds very well. 

They have every reason not to trust me,
yet they do 😻
That part never gets old 🙏

The Cat Room

One bedroom in the Main House is dedicated to being The Cat Room. It has everything they need such as food, water, safety, heater as needed, security cam (so I can keep my eyes on them) and lots of play toys spread around. This is their time to begin their healing journey, feel better, and learn about social interaction with humans - and dogs (with time). 

Brooks is so kind and careful with
my sweetie kitties. He holds them
like a baby and it warms my heart. 

With time, they heal, recover and feel better.
They play - and also inspect me
when I come to sit and love on them.

With time, I introduce The Littles to them. A couple at a time.

Sugar arranges their food just right. 

Theo must clean them. He can't not clean them. It's in his DNA.

Then, the email comes from the foster coordinator asking if they are feeling better, are they playing and eating? Are they over 2 lbs yet? And I know what all this means.....it's time to take them back to be spayed and altered, and to then be placed for official adoption. My heart hurts thinking about it. How much crying can a girl do? 

I set a date to return them after having them for just under 3 weeks. They have improved so much and are feeling great. They are ready.

Their eyes are no longer in a wink. 
They are no longer sneezing and sniffling.
They are 14/10 adorbs 💞

I will tell you that when I took them back, I did tear up. But the cry was pushed down with the fact that people would certainly adopt these cutie pies. They will be scooped up and find their furever home quickly. They have the cutest little personalities and are just plain sweet and loving kittens. I keep telling myself.....if I keep all the fosters, then I won't have room or energy to foster those that need a temporary safe place. Each group of fosters I get is special. Please know this.....these were more special than most. Fostering will never be easy for me. It just won't. I break my own heart a little every time......so they can have a better one somewhere else. And they will. I know it. 

Life is messy. Loud. Emotional. 

It's full of possums, heartbreak and healing and unexpected joy. 

And somehow, it's still really, really good. 

Final thoughts?

* Put your cat food up.

* Don't underestimate a possum

* Little dogs are not backup

* Letting go can be the right thing (even when it hurts like hell)

* And if life gives you chaos, grab a shovel and a crate

Choo Choo 🚂

Next Stop? Whatever happens next.

Think I'll stay on the crazy train,

Cyndi