Back to the Vet

I'm beginning to think the veterinarian's office should just make Whisper and I a "standing" weekly visit. After a week of watching Whisper struggle with her leg after the storm incident last Friday night, I decided another visit is necessary. For her, or for me? Yes.
Whisper is getting to be quite the expert at car riding. That's a bit exaggerated, but still, she's adjusting and no longer pants and drools from anxiety, my pasture dog. This time, I also put my little King Charles spaniel, Maybe, in the car with us for some extra company and comfort. Those two dogs despised each other for at least the first year. Whisper did not allow Maybe to come into the pasture, and after one altercation, Maybe had no desire to wander out there.....without us with her. I think Whisper thought she looked too much like a skunk. Look how far we've come! Maybe is in the car as Whisper's 'emotional companion'. Who knew that day would ever happen. So the three of us travel to the vet office, to again confess my inability to control and contain my guard dog so her leg can heal. 4 months is a long time to keep a guard dog penned up. That's just me whining.
Side note: I had a "first" happen, as when I let Whisper out of the car on her leash, we walked through the grass and she potty'd while she was leashed. What? She's a real dog now. And she's beginning to settle into a routine of moving about the property - and in life - (only) on a leash. Her wanderlust days are temporary suspended, and she's settling into the groove of a new routine. To translate: Our routine for her, to get this leg healed.
Back to the vet visit. So Maybe waits in the car while I head inside with Whisper. We are the last  patient of the day. Dr Murphy watches Whisper walk in, and is very curious why we are there again. I know she's wondering what the "story" is this time. "Well", I start out with, "you know the storm on Friday night?". That's all I had to say. Dr Murphy knows what storms can do to animals, and Whisper gets highly nervous and anxious when it thunders/lightening. The first thing she says is we'll need to get some medicine to help with that, so she won't hurt herself when the next storm comes. Perfect! Then, she begins to examine Whisper, who I'm convinced has completely messed up her leg (again). Dr Murphy is moving it back and forth, evaluating it completely. Touching her leg, pressing against the area with the plate and screws, all while Whisper just lays there like nothing is going on. Dr Murphy looks up at me and says, "Nope, she's just fine!". Everything looks good (again). And once again, God has shown mercy on Whisper - and me. With 2 escapes under this dog's belt, and to be "fine" both times is something I cannot wrap my brain around. God is Good. We are close to 1 month post op - and she's fine. 3 months to go. 3 more long months of confinement so her leg can heal. Along the way, we are to do physical training exercises with her. The journey continues. Don't get too comfortable, because just when I think everything is okay, Whisper has something up her sleeve. She's a smart cookie. More like obsessed with getting herself freed. It's a battle of wills around here.
I'm taking that good news and moving forward. Whisper is thriving and healing. And on top of that, all three lambs are growing up and thriving as well. Clara and Grace are coming up on 2 months old, and Little LuLu is 2 weeks behind them, although taller. LuLu is a tall lamb, as is her mama. And her little Baa is the sweetest. Clara and Grace enjoy Baa-ing, esp when they think there might be grain involved. I'm happy to say that we had these three lambs, and they are all three doing wonderful. For our first lambing event, it's been an absolute blessing. The thought that they will be weaning from their mama(s) is hard to imagine. Those lambs love their mamas.
The cold has set in, and the heated water buckets are beginning to be placed in their appropriate spots. The barn doors and windows are remaining shut more and more, to help keep the cold out. This is the hardest time of year for me. My heart hurts to think any of them might be cold. Even though they have fur coats on, and live outside as farm animals do, I still struggle a bit with it. I've gotten better about it. This year, due to the lambs, and Whisper's healing process, we did install 4 heating lamps in the barn. (The chickens love them). But overall, I think we have everybody settled and the things needed for everybody to brave the winter. The tack room is full of coastal and alfalfa hay, as there's just not a lot for the sheep or donkeys to eat in the pasture during the winter. There's some, but we do supplement with hay in the winter. Then, when spring arrives, the grass and forbs are abundant for them all, and they eat non stop. I don't think I ever expected to have lambs at the winter season. I don't really know when I expected to have them, but winter can be cruel to these little lambs. Lulu esp does not like that bitter north wind and low temps. She stays curled up on the dog bed, and Baa's for Belle to come back in the barn. Belle, of course, is out grazing as she's a good eater. I still can't believe all my lambs sleep on dog beds, but they do. Every night. I think that probably speaks volumes about the way we raise and keep our animals. I imagine it's not the norm, but then I figure Why Not? Why not love them how I desire to love them? I'm fortunate to have a husband who understands the way I show my love. My love language, for my farm animals, is lots of hugs (if they allow me to do so, and even if they don't allow me to do so), an abundance of nurturing, and care with their living conditions, oh, and treats. Yes, some might say far too many treats. The barn is certainly my place of choice to be. I'll make up just about any excuse to go out there, be out there, or stay out there for long periods of time. Winter is harder in regards to time in the barn, but I love it just the same. My cold tolerance is low. I will say, sometimes the animals might not want me to love them like I do, as their natural instincts don't lean towards hugs and petting (Ex: chickens, sheep), but as David has heard me say, far too many times to any one of them, "Let me love you". They tolerate me, as best as they can.
As 2019 approaches, I am excited about what a new year brings. It's always a good time to renew commitments to projects, look ahead for new adventures, and rethink what life is all about. The age old questions: is what I'm doing in life enough? do I want to be doing something else? am I a settler? And my answer always seems to boil down to one thing. Happiness. Because does life have to be about doing enough? Can it just be about enjoyment and contentment? There's a balance here somewhere, and ironically it seems the older I get, the closer I get to my own nirvana. Age + experience = wisdom. My own version of it, anyway.
As I watched the tribute to George H.W. Bush, I was touched by his list of advice for young people. I realized it wasn't a list he made for others, but what he lived by himself, and was merely passing it on. Have you seen it? It's simply amazing. Simple, yet amazingly poignant:

Don’t get down when your life takes a bad turn. Out of adversity comes challenge and often success.

Don’t blame others for your setbacks.

When things go well, always give credit to others.

Don’t talk all the time. Listen to your friends and mentors and learn from them.

Don’t brag about yourself. Let others point out your virtues, your strong points.

Give someone else a hand. When a friend is hurting show that friend you care.

Nobody likes an overbearing big shot.

As you succeed, be kind to people. Thank those who help you along the way.

Don’t be afraid to shed a tear when your heart is broken because a friend is hurting.

Say your prayers!

I thank him for these reminders. I need them. Cyndi