All Fun and Games Another Sherlock Boomer Adventure Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

DOTTIE CAME to live with Ethie, Mindy-cat, and I!

You see, Jan, the amazing chicken lady (she shows chickens all over the western part of the United States) said Ethie was lonely.  So Ethie was broody to have company.

Well, she didn’t say it all like that, but that is the way I, Boomer, Sherlock Beagle, understood it when Mom explained it to me.

The farm family has grown just a wee bit more.  And I have to REALLY guard my food!

MEANWHILE out of the farm

(and in the farmyard)

Life as

we know it

goes on!

All Fun and Games!

Unless Coyotes are involved!

  Boomer Beaglie Brown, a.k.a. Sherlock Boomer

 

 

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All Fun and Games Chapter Seven A Sherlock Boomer Adventure

Chapter Seven

King led the way, looking left and right, back over his shoulder,

then facing front again.  Gradually the night started to lighten and the day started to grow.

Ethie hopped along, her claws sore and weary.  I went behind her, giving her fluffy chicken body a push and sometimes a shove with my beagle nose.

The traveling was slow and painful and ever so slow.

Did I say slow?

You have NO idea what agonizing slow really is.

None.

“Well, Beagle, here is where I leave you.” King stopped and turned toward Ethie and I.  “I got you to the Little Corn Field.  That is further than I thought we were going to make it.”

With that statement, King turned and pushed his way into the rows of the corn stalks and was gone!

There we stood, a tired, worn out chicken, and one rather tired beagle. But if I stood on the road and looked way down the road, way, way down the road to the tiny little dots way, way down there I could just make out the start of Dad’s implement yard.

Home!

We were almost home!

“Okay, Ethie! We are close now.” I turned my eyes back and looked at Ethie.  She was so tired her eyelids had closed over her eyes and she was standing there on one foot, the other foot tucked up under her fluffy feathered belly.

Oh!

The Urge!

Oh! That very naughty urge to give her a wee little push with my nose!

I could just see what would happen…a gentle little push and FLUPP right into the soft dirt of the farm road Ethie would go.

I stood there a little spell and let Ethie sleep. As I watched Ethie’s one leg slowly collapsed; Ethie sat down in the soft dirt, of the farm road, and slept on.

The day was starting to brighten, but I figured Ethie needed her rest so I stood guard…..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, erk, snort, blink…I stood gu…………..zzzzzzz.

SQUWACK!!!!

HUH!? WHAT!? I jerked awake!

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?” I barked.

“DANGER! HELP! DANGER!”  Ethie screamed and ran right to me and jumped on my back!

“I’m about to be dinner!”

“Wait, wait!”  I tried to wake up and get my bearings. “Dinner?” I couldn’t make sense of what she was screaming.

Dinner.  What a lovely thought. I licked my lips.  Dinner…I could use dinner. Crunchy bits of cereal, some really yummy something or other out a can….jerky!  Goodness!  ANYTHING!  Dinner sounds….

“HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLP” Ethie screamed in my ear and clawed my back.

“OH, SHUT IT UP, HEN! You are the most annoying bird in the universe.  I don’t think I have even come up against any other bird as loud and crazy as you are!”  Ruth fluttered down; landing beside Ethie and myself.

“I see you made it to the farm road.  Not far now.”

“No,” I sighed. “Not far now…just an eternity with a hen.”

“Hummph!” Ethie grumped. “I’m doing my part.  It just takes me longer to get somewhere than you. I only have two feet and you have four.”

“True,” I replied, looking sadly at her two feet. “Ever so true.”

“Well, I think you got it made, dog, so I’m off for my bed in the old tree.”  Hope you make it home before the sun goes down.  If not, I’ll check the road and see where you are.  Maybe I’ll stop for a spell, maybe not.”

With that Ruth rose into the sky; turning into a smaller and smaller dot as she flew away.

Then once more it was just me, Sherlock Boomer Beaglie Brown, and Ethie the hen. And still, a long-long-long way to go.

Sigh.

 

The Adventures of Boomer on Friday— A Walk in the Night

Mom and I went for a nice long walk one night in the Full of the November moon.

Mom and I always go for lots of walks

day and at least one at night.

Mom says her favorite night-time walk is in the full-moon, although the dark of moon allows the star-spangled sky to shine.

Mom takes her camera, although she doesn’t always get good photos.  Still…she likes to snap away.

As for me…well…I like to check out news!  But you knew that already!  🙂

So…..along the way we ran into a buck…who actually ran into us.

We scared him so bad he jumped the fence, then the canal and the next fence and ran away, away, away.

Mom took a picture of all the house lights over the mesa from us in what the old-timers used to call “No-Mans-Land” ….I guess it’s should be called ‘Any-man’s-land” now since there are houses all over down there.

On the way back Mom sat down on the gated pipe and just sat.  Suddenly a doe came out of the corn…walked right in front of Mom and guess what…MOM GOT A PHOTO!!!

Of course the deer got a scare.  She bounded off on her tip-toes in dainty leaps and bounds.

Back home the fire in the woodstove felt good…Mom and I settled in for the night…refreshed and bathed in moonlight.

Boomer

Restless and a Wee Apprehensive—Sunday, October 14, 2017

For some reason I seem to be experiencing a vague foreboding.  Like a small cloud of some sort of oppression— a hovering chill; trouble looking for somewhere to strike–maybe around the next turn.

I have no idea what it is, or why…but it’s there…riding the winds from the north

Our autumn days wax and wane from warm to cold and back again to repeat as the leaves change and flutter to the ground.  There is a tingle to air promising winter is not far off now.

On chill days the wood stove heats the house; two cats and our dog; and a toasting husband.  The knots of burning elm tick faintly as they pop and burn warming the air.

And still I feel it…that unsettled feeling…like the night air breathing on my neck. (If I were a cat my fur would be lifted in alarm.)

Oh, well…I continue forward.  There is nothing much else to do…we ride out checking the corn, measuring the dryness (16%—when it reaches 15% we can start harvesting)

Sitting around worrying is time wasted.

We ride (skimming) through the farm, on roads which which sometimes look like wild pathways…over the Coyote trails and onto Coyote Hill… the little trip makes me think of all the old, ancient ones who walked here way before me.

For this I give thanks, ask for protection for this land I love, all the living things on it, and for my husband and children and the children of my children, and you, my friends; protection and safety for you, also.

Then I wait…maybe whatever this feeling is will dissipate and go away.

The warmth of a light heart will return— I can travel each day with ease.

I am ready for that time to come!

From my world to your heart,

Linda