No one would probably believe me if I told them that chickens and dogs kicked my butt yesterday. Lets face it, you just read this and thought, "Huh, yeah right..."
No, really they did--well maybe I'm exaggerating a little...How about this...Because of the chickens and dogs, the snow and ice kicked by butt...That's probably more accurate. None-the-less, if I wouldn't have had to let the dogs out and go feed and water the chickens, I wouldn't have gotten hurt.
Old Man Winter blessed us with snow and freezing rain Monday and Tuesday. It is lovely to look at from inside where it's nice and cozy and warm. But, when you have to venture out in it, that's another story.
Yesterday, I stalled as long as I possibly could to go out and do chores. Earlier, from my patio window, I watched three of our dogs slip and slide all over the yard. Not only was the terrain a hindrance, but the wind was blowing something fierce adding another degree of difficulty to the situation. The dogs, however, have built in cleats--something I didn't have.
Reluctantly, I put on my big coat, gloves, hat and scarf. I let out Toby and Roscoe to "romp" as best they could. They are accustomed to going out to their fenced area in nice weather and continue the habit even in the cold--just not to stay all day. I gingerly walked out to the pen. I was standing there, back to the wind and slightly turned to watch the dogs. It was like a scene out of a movie or something. I barely moved, but enough I lost footing and away I went--flat on my back. Leave it to me to fall down by just standing there. Somehow I managed not to whack my head on the ice. I laid there a minute groaning. My well-padded right hip broke most of my fall. There I laid spread-eagle on the ground. Of course, Toby and Roscoe took full advantage of me being down and began mauling me in that loving, yet rough big-dog way. I got to my feet and slowly managed to get back to the house.
I managed to get the dogs back in and I grabbed my water jug to carry out to the coop to water the chickens. This time I had a strategy... There was a little bit of snow that was blowing about and had managed to drift across the frozen tundra of my backyard. If I walked in the snow drifts, I had traction. However, you were prone to breaking through the frozen crust, once again jeopardizing balance as one foot got swallowed and the other slipped on frozen snow--which was precisely what happened next. Almost home-free to the coop, I fell through the crust with one foot and lost my balance. This time instead of going backward, I fell forward and landed straight on my knees. Ouch! That hurt worse than backwards...Probably because my well-padded bum broke the first fall and my bony knees broke this one. Groaning, I made it the last few steps to the coop door and proceeded to feed and water my birds. Head and neck hurting, knees throbbing--I felt like I'd been in a fight. To add insult to injury, not even one egg to collect (slackers).
I made my way back to the house and creaked and groaned my way to the basement to take off my winter attire, then creaked and moaned my way back upstairs. I looked in on AJ in his Pack-n-Play. He was sound asleep, oblivious to the perils Mom was facing a few moments ago. I made my way to my recliner and plopped down to enjoy a much-deserved rest after my butt-kicking.
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Roscoe
A good walking buddy and awesome frisbee catcher! Life cut short by a brain tumor.
Tuffy
If ever there was a candidate for Dog Heaven, it would be Tuff. Tuff was put to rest December 7, 2012. At almost 14 years old, he threw the longevity curve for dogs of his breed-makeup and size. He battled 2 types of cancer and Cushing's Disease as well as arthritis. Faithful to the end and never grumpy, depite the constant care and nagging from me. Always the protector, gentleman and companion--you will be sorely missed by all who had the opportunity to know you.
Cranky Thomas
Ever wonder why it's called "Life On CT Farm"? The horse you see in the pictures is Cranky Thomas, a registered quarter horse gelding. He was born May 5, 1980 in Galion, Alabama and passed away August 3, 2004 on CT Farm--his farm. He originally belonged to my husband, but I adopted him and I think he adopted me. We competed together in contest classes at local horse shows. But, an old injury finally slowed him down and I retired him in 2000. He was a loving and patient being that I completely trusted and admired. There will never be another like him, never. He meant so much to me that I named our farm after him as well as my company, Cranky T. LLC. He's gone now, but is still with me and now you.
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