The grandgirls just couldn’t resist this
I couldn’t resist the photo op!
Linda
Some Naps Just Invite …..
13
Along with the Storms
Rain
It’s raining here, mostly in the hills and mountains around us.
The storms come up in the afternoon after a sweltering morning.
I really don’t mind the rain, or the clouds, but this time of year…moisture, coupled with heat, then sometimes it does produce hail. So everytime the storms come in we hold our breath hoping hail doesn’t also come with it.
Linda
The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday–Goats
This is Boomer. I’ve never in my life, ever, positively ever saw, see, or seen a goat! Who knew such an animal even existed!? They are ….well…I don’t even have words for them.
They have eyes like a cat, or maybe a snake…Fuzzy says they have eyes like a goat!
Fuzzy gets rather irritated with me when I see the cows (they scare me, so I back up and bay at them). The first time that happened, me seeing the cows, I bayed at them with my fur all raised up, Fuzzy just laughed at me. I still get all ‘afeared when the cows come around. I hover around Mom’s legs and try to not let those big huge black cows see me. Fuzzy just looks at me with disgust!
Fuzzy he is amazing. They don’t frighten him not at all, he walks right in the corral with them, sometimes Mom has to tell him to “get out of there, Fuzzy”, but mostly he was taking care of business in there.
The cows they don’t even mind him. Me they snort and paw the dirt and sometimes I can see snot coming out of their noses when they fling their heads around and stamp their hooves! I like it better when I stay right by Mom and she is outside of the corrals!
Anyway, back to goats! Mom-mom has the goats…there are two of them, a black one and a white one. They are real tame….anyway that’s what Mom’s says. She says—“It’s okay Boomer, they won’t hurt you.” Then she gives them a cookie and they bounce all over with their really sharp little hooves and baa at her, begging for more.
I bay when they bounce around too much, my fur raises up and get all nervous.
But, here is a little secret, I’ll tell just you.
Shhhhhhh!
Don’t tell!
Please!
Okay, I’ll let you know…I’m really not afraid of them. I just like to bark, well bay. I think if my people were watching me they would see that I have a really big beagle smile on my face and my tail is wagging. The second they look at me I stop and run back beside Mom.
I really like getting to bay at the goats.
Now don’t tell.
Boomer
The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday–The Attack on the Hens
The Attack on the Hens
I was dozing under Dad’s pickup when Bladen came riding up on his bicycle.
At one point Blade was working with Mom to earn money for a new bicycle, but Dad dug Uncle Evan’s BMX out of the barn and asked Blade if he wanted to ride it. There was lots of Blade getting on and Dad adjusting the seat, then a couple or three rides up and down the driveway between the house and the grain bins, when Blade said; “Okay.” That was the last of working for a new bike, now Blade is working for a hundred dollar bill.
Every time he gets enough money to change his dollars into a bigger dollar that is what he does. I think I overheard him tell Mom and Dad that he has a twenty dollar bill, a ten dollar bill, a five dollar bill and summer isn’t even over yet.
Anyway, back to my story. Blade came riding up really fast and said that something got one of Mom-mom (Misty’s) hens. Would Mom come down and see what predator it was. My Mom can just look at the murder and know what predator did it. At least she has pretty good ideas….dogs kill just to kill, raccoons will reach through the pen and grab a head or leg and pull it off, skunks bite into the neck and throat area….well, I think you get the idea.
My Mom asked Blade all sorts of questions as she was getting ready to go down to Mom-mom’s hen house to check out the damage. She asked us dogs, Boomer and I, Fuzzy, if we wanted to go along.
You bet we did!
It was a rather long way, across the pipe road, then down the sticker road, on the super highway, then down the Apricot tree road, in 100* heat. But we made it. (It’s sort of sad, because I remember the days when I could run all the way over there right beside the four-wheeler, but not anymore. Mom always walks with me, if we walk and sits with me when I take a break. If we go on the four-wheeler she puts me on back and I ride. My legs get all shaky and trimly but I can STILL do it!)
When we got there we came upon a scene I hope I never come up on again. There was a pile of feathers that was it. Mom-mom was standing over Hank the Puff (he lost his name cow dog, they now call him Puff, as in Puff the Magic Dragon and only call him Hank when they are really upset at him).
Hank was looking sheepish and cowing down and whapping his tail really hard on the road, sending up dirt in real clouds of dust.
Then I saw it!
A feather!
A feather on Puff’s, HANK’s mouth!
Mom started asking Mom-mom all sorts of questions…did you see the chicken before it went missing? Where did you last see it? Was it alive when you saw it? Was Hank with you all the time? Did you check to see if there were any hawks flying around or sitting in the trees close by?
Hank kept looking up at Mom-mom and whapping his tail a very sincere look on his face. He was stirring up a little breeze with his tail whapping so the feathers were starting to swirl around a bit.
Boomer was sniffing in the general area when suddenly he sneezed (!) so the whole pile of feather flew up in the air with one sticking on his nose, which made him sneeze even more.
By the time Boomer stopped sneezing the pile of feathers was all messed up.
Since Mom didn’t have a carcass to study, and since Mom-mom didn’t know if there were any flying predators around, Mom decided it might have been a hawk. Here is how she came to that conclusion:
- The feathers were at the base of one of the corral poles, there were no other remains but feathers
- The pile of feathers wasn’t a huge amount, more like a small amount
- Hank was with Blade in Blade’s room for most of the morning and sleeping on the deck in the sun the other part of the morning. (Until it got to hot)
- Linki found the feathers and told Mom-mom before anyone else saw the feathers
- Mom-mom counted the chickens and one is missing
- Blade rode over to Grammy’s, Hank stayed with Mom-mom and the girls
- Coyotes and Fox grab a bird and take the whole thing away, but it was 11:00 in the morning—it’s very rare, VERY rare for one of those predators to be out and about in the daytime, especially the middle of the morning on a 100* day
Still it looked pretty bad, Hank sitting there with a feather stuck to his nose, one on his head and another dangling on his chest.
Mom-mom’s faced hardened. “Come here, Hank!” Hank crawled over to her. Tail dragging in the dirt, a little whine coming out of his throat, he was telling us, he didn’t do it, he had been framed. Boomer should have chicken feathers all over his fur too, but his fur isn’t long.
Mom-mom reached down….we ALL thought she’s going to smack Hank, and pulled the feathers off of him! Then she gave him a big hug and told him she was glad he wasn’t the one who killed (and ate) the chicken.
So the mystery was solved. It must have been the hawk that keeps circling the sky all the time, sometimes being ran off by smaller birds in the area. Chickens don’t fly. A hen never looks up, only roosters do, they are always busy scratching and pecking, searching all over on the ground.
Mom said the hawk, probably swooped down and settled on the corral fence post, sat real still until the hen picked and scratched her way to the post.
They are easy prey for predator birds…really easy.
Fuzzy
Wordless Wednesday
Linda
Why This Tree is Called Cottonwood
We have lots of Cottonwood trees in our area. They are beautiful trees, providing shade, homes to birds, and shelter to those in need.
Every year thier blooms turn into seeds…just like everything else in the plant world.
The seeds look like cotton.
The wind flings those little cotton seeds far and wide, so the ground around, under and several feet away from the tree looks like it snowed in June.
(They are terribly allergy producing, also)
So there you are…a tree found along creeks, streams and rivers. A sure mark of water for pioneers or those traveling across this bright beautiful land of ours.
Linda
Meeting “New” Old Friends
Kids…What More Can I Say
The wind blew the top off the loading area of the grain bin….Terry was going to go up and put it back on.
Not me, I don’t do heights!
Terry has never been frightened by heights, which is why being a lineman for 37 years was a good ‘paying’ job for him.
Blade wanted to see if he could do it….climb up there and snap the lid shut.
He could.
He did.
A chip off the grandpa’s block! 🙂
Linda
Fuzzy Blogging on Friday–Mom Cooks Outside
The moment Mom comes outside and lights the grill I know good smells are going to be coming forth soon.
Boomer gets really excited when the grill gets lit he says in his former life he always—A.L.W.A.Y.S. got to have some of whatever was being cooked on the grill.
That doesn’t happen here.
Dad would be upset if Mom cooked our dinner on the grill.
Mom would probably do it if we begged really hard, but she says she doesn’t know how to make canned dog food burgers.
Once the grill gets to going Boomer steps right up and goes and sits right next to the grill. He pokes his nose up high in the air to catch as much of the smells as he possibly can. He looks sort of stupid, but hey, each to their own.
I mosey on over to the patio rocking chair and set myself down behind the chair. That puts the chair and Boomer between me and the grill. Boomer says I should move in closer just in case someone trips and drops a steak or something.
I’ve found out if you sit too close to the grill you will get yelled at —like—“Get Out of THE WAY! Move! MOVE! You are going to trip someone!” You know stuff like that. I don’t like to be yelled at, tell me once that’s enough.
Mom came out and put the meat on the grill…but only after telling Boomer “Move Boom, you are in the way and going to get burned.”
See, what did I tell you?
Boomer moved back to the rocking chair, now we were both sitting by the rocking chair.
Mom put on the meat and cloud of white lovely smoke filled the air with fumes of such delicious proportions that both Boomer and I started to drool. Mesquite smoke and grilling meat. Yummm! Sniff! Sniff! Slurpppppppppp!
Our mouths began to water and our ears perked right up as the meat sizzled and popped over the glowing coals.
Boomer whispered to me that he thought we ought to rush the grill and see if we can grab us a hunk of meat or two. I sure gave the thought a serious consideration for several minutes.
But Mom is very suspicious of begging dogs; she always has a watchful eye on us just in case we want to poach a hunk of meat or so.
Boomer thumped his tail on the ground and gave her his most sincere look. He had to work at not looking like he was begging but just really interested in what she was doing. I had to look away, Mom would know what I was up to and besides I only have a short stump of a tail so I can’t whack it on the ground.
Then everyone was there, handing their plates over to Mom walking around laughing and talking, I told Boomer we had better get out of here or we are going to get yelled at.
Boomer said he wanted to stay a little yelling never hurt anyone.
I headed over to my dog house, I know if I’m suppose to get something Mom will bring it over and scrape it out in my dish. I do NOT like getting yelled at!
Suddenly there was a sort of cash sound, the tickle of silverware falling and a little child crying.
I looked for Boomer just sure as anything that he was right in the midst of the mess. But he wasn’t.
He has slipped way over to the other side of the patio and was just laying there watching everything.
Then I heard Mom saying about not a problem there is lots more.
I waited.
Boomer walked over to where I was waiting.
Then Mom showed up with the spilled food, scraped it out in our dishes.
We too got to go to the cook out.
Fuzzy
