Happy New Year

All the dogs around here want to wish my readers a wonderful New Year.  
Here you'll see the grandson's Great Dane, Titan, whining until he gets Iris to give him her ball.





Next, you'll see Titan trying to make friends with Angel.

Angel is pretty scared of him, but she doesn't run away.  He'll bat those king-sized paws at her, but he never touches her with them, only smacks the ground beside her.  Titan spent most of the day with us yesterday.

He followed Cliff around for a couple of hours, as Cliff got on and off the tractor.  Titan is one of the best companion dogs I've ever seen; he wants to be around his people.  


The high spot of 2011 around here was Cliff's retirement.  We have both enjoyed it thoroughly.  Yes, money is tight sometimes, but Cliff is so relaxed and at ease knowing he doesn't have to go to work.  It was the right thing for him to do.  
As of today, my only goals for 2012 are to visit Wyoming and Montana, and to find another bred Jersey heifer or cow, since it looks like Bonnie isn't going to re-breed.  It would be nice if we could find one equal to her.  Yes, I do have Jody waiting in the wings, but she's still young, and it will be awhile before she can be bred.  
I am so thankful for everything we have.  

I wish every one of you, my readers, a wonderful 2012.  I see this is Leap Year!

In case you didn't see me post this picture on Facebook

Our daughter, Rachel, had a big picture of Cliff's prize tractor done where she works; we framed it yesterday, and there it is on the wall behind Cliff.  He's really proud of that gift. 

You can see that Iris is watching TV with her ball handy:  In case any bird or animal shows up on the screen, she will grab the ball and run to the TV, holding it in her mouth, growling viciously as she chews on the ball.  Because she used to physically attack the television, we started telling her to get her ball each time she did it.  That way, she only bites on the ball and leaves the TV alone.  We still have to listen to the growling, but our television escapes injury.  Most of the time these days, we don't have to tell her to get the ball; she grabs it as she gets up to run to the television.  
I'm sure we could break her from this behavior, but it amuses me.  Cesar Millan ("I rehabilitate dogs, I train people") probably wouldn't approve, but that's his problem.  
Iris is a dog fully of neuroses and conflicts which, I'm sure, began in her younger days at her original home, wherever that was.  
Here's the latest strange thing with Iris:  Since we got her eighteen months ago, she has never wanted to sleep on the floor next to our bed, which is where I like my dog to sleep.  When we first got her I didn't know what sort of behavior to expect, and I kenneled her next to the bed; I figured that alone would train her to sleep there.  
Nope.  When I took the kennel to the garage, she began sleeping on the cold floor in my bathroom, about as far away from our bedroom as she could get.  For awhile I actually snapped on her leash and attached it to the library table beside the bed so she would be forced to stay beside me; she acted so mistreated that after a few nights of this I released her.  Finally she accepted the dog bed in the computer room, where she spent time while I was at the keyboard; she began spending her nights there too, unless it was raining or storming; then she hid in Cliff's tub.  
When she was sick Friday night and I had cleaned up the mess and crawled back in bed, she kept hanging around at my bedside.  So I got her bed from the computer room and put it at my bedside, where she curled up and slept the rest of the night.  When she spent a second night in that spot, I washed that dog bed and another one, so she'd have one in the bedroom and one in the computer room.  Maybe she was finally ready to sleep near me at night.  
She didn't like the clean beds, either of them.  But since she got them "broke in", she's using both:  one at our bedside when we're in bed, the other in the computer room when I'm in here.  
After all this time and all my efforts, she's finally sleeping where I intended.  
If you wonder why I even care where she sleeps, I once read a book, "The Second-Hand Dog", that suggested if you are away from home during the day and feel sorry for your dog being alone for so long, one way of bonding with him is to have him sleep next to your bed at night.  Some sort of "pack" thing.  When I first got my previous dog, Sadie, I put her bed in the kitchen; when I awoke on her first morning with us, she was as close to my bed as she could be, and that's where she spent the nights from then on.  And now, Iris is there too.  Maybe she's just showing her appreciation for me cleaning up that horrible mess at 2 A.M.

Puppy playing with grumpy old dog

Iris isn't fond of other dogs, and Titan is no exception.  She does growl at him a little, but considering that she has attacked dogs in the past, she's showing a lot of restraint.  For her, that is.  Titan is fourteen weeks old; perhaps she realizes he's only a puppy, even if he is far bigger than she is.

What kind of dog?

Iris is probably seven or eight years old, although she acts like a pup.  I have her because when Sadie died, I wanted to fill up the vacancy she left behind.  I didn't care what kind of dog I got, just so I got one that liked to play with toys, and acted as if she liked me.  
I don't plan on losing Iris any time soon, but I am already preparing for her demise by searching for what kind of replacement I want.  The number one quality I'm looking for in my next dog is minimal shedding.  
I considered poodles, but it's so expensive getting them trimmed.  
I was considering schnauzers because a fellow-blogger had pictures of hers on her blog, and they seemed like the sort of dog I'd like.  I asked her about her pets, and she did a whole entry about them.  Unfortunately, schnauzers have to be trimmed too.  
Then I took into consideration the Yorkshire Terrier:  Such little cuties they are!  But I found out they are prone to all sorts of health problems.  Not good.  
So now I'm considering some sort of poodle cross that wouldn't have to be groomed.  
If any of you readers have suggestions on what sort of non-shedding dog I should consider, please give me some feedback.  Hopefully I won't have to decide for many years.  

cows, dogs, and questions answered

I had hoped to buy a bobby calf for Bonnie to raise alongside her own; unfortunately, the people on Craigslist who were supposed to supply me with a calf never came through.  If I were to get one now, it would be so much younger than Clyde that it probably wouldn't get enough milk, so I've scratched that idea for this year.  When Cliff retires, we'll be able to go to the Tuesday livestock auction at Kingsville once in a while; I'm wary of sale barn calves because they usually get sick as soon as you get them home, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  I'd also have a very good chance of picking up another Jersey cow; they're usually very cheap at an auction, and they're pregnancy tested.   
Readers have asked some questions about Iris.  One person wondered if she is getting along with Hawkeye (my daughter's dog) now, and I'm happy to say that, for the most part, she is getting along much better with all dogs.  She no longer stalks Rena's tiny mini-doxie.  Last time Pat and Charlene were here with their dog, Mindy, we all went someplace, leaving our two dogs in the house alone together for a few hours.  We returned to find them both safe and sound.  
The main trouble spot with Iris is when you are feeding another dog out of hand:  that triggers an attack.  She doesn't mind dogs eating from her dish at all, but if anybody hands another dog a treat in her presence, she goes into attack mode; she's given us a couple of scares with our granddaughter's mini-pin.  We're working on that.  
Iris came from the city, so you can imagine how she loves the wide-open spaces.  After we'd had her awhile I began letting her off the leash when we'd take our walks; she'd run like the wind and disappear into the woods, only to show up at the house dirty and bedraggled, two hours after we were done walking.  While there aren't any cars back there to run over her, I still worried that she might get hung up in a barbed-wire fence, or go so far that she couldn't find her way home.  So I went back to walking her on a leash, until the past week or so.  Now she stays within view; if she gets too far away, I call and she comes running back.  
I can let her out the door in the morning and know when she's done her business she'll come back and either scratch once on the door or bark, to let me know she's back.  She also barks or scratches the door when she wants out.  I've seen dogs that would ruin a door with their scratching, but Iris is very gentle and only does it once.  It's really been fun watching her settle in; the changes in her have been remarkable.  
I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.  
Clyde the calf is coming along, too.  The last three times I had to put him in the barn so I could milk the next day, he walked into the stall without my having to chase him.  I guess he's finally figured out he may as well go in quickly, because I won't leave him alone until he does.  
And that's your animal report.

Finding the right dog

I went to Wayside Waifs with a list of female, mid-size dogs I was interested in.  Of course the first one I asked about was ten-month-old Tiki, the one I'd seen in a video.  When we walked near her cage, she picked up a ball off the floor and brought it over, as if asking us to play with her.  "I think that's the one," I told Cliff.  
She wasn't the one, though.  In the get-acquainted room, she jumped on us constantly, looking for treats the volunteer was providing.  In fact, she only seemed to have eyes for the volunteer unless we were holding a treat; she knew where her treats came from.  
We took her outside on a leash, and she was quite a handful; I could barely hold her back!  This dog was too much for me.  I found out one family had kept her for a month and brought her back.  Poor thing, I'm not sure she'll make a good fit for anybody.  
Second on my list was Roxie, a two-year-old who hadn't been there long.  She was in another section with new arrivals, but we found she was also too rambunctious for my tastes, almost as bad as Tiki.  
We were going to go back to the main viewing room and view all those dogs again, but as we passed one pen on our way out, the volunteer said, "Here's Faith, do you want to meet her?"  
This dog was timid, and took the treats from my hand daintily and apologetically.  There was no frantic jumping, and she actually stood still long enough for me to pet her.  She was listed as a whippet, and I'm pretty sure she is indeed at least half whippet or greyhound.  She struck me as being needy, and I decided this was indeed my Iris.
As we signed all the paperwork, another volunteer gave us what information they had on my dog:  She had been transferred from KC animal control, where she had only one day left to live; dogs there only have from two days to a week to live.  
Somebody had cared about her in the past, because she came to Wayside Waifs already microchipped and spayed.  Her age was estimated at between three and six years old.  
At the car, Cliff opened the trunk to get the pet carrier out, and Iris jumped eagerly into the trunk!  We got a laugh out of this and coaxed her out.  
Cliff opened the car door to put the pet carrier in the back seat and Iris eagerly jumped in the back seat.  She was ready to be out of prison.  Honestly, I wanted her in the carrier; but Cliff figured it would be less stressful to let her be free in the car, since she obviously knew her way around a vehicle.  She was all over that car on the way home.

Nose out the window...

Up behind the back seat...

Head out the window... and she finally ended up in front next to me.  Observing all this, Cliff said, "The way she jumps around on things, I'll bet we're going to have a problem with her getting on furniture."  
He hit the nail on the head.  
Obviously in her former life, she slept in bed with her people, and curled up on their chairs and couches. I have to correct her very gently, because she is easily upset.  If I find we can't break her of this behavior, I may try compromising, allowing her one chair, covered with a throw or a sheet, as her own.   From what I've found on the Internet, it's very hard to break a mature dog of getting on furniture.  We'll deal with it.
On the plus side, she seems very much "potty-trained".  

She loves kids, and actually wanted to go home with granddaughter Natalie.  She was very upset when Nattie left.  Oh, and to my friend Joanna:  Iris loves the toy you brought as a gift for Sadie; she chewed up and down on it until she found the squeak.  
I'm fairly certain Iris has a case of kennel cough, which is almost inevitable in a shelter dog; she is asleep on the floor beside me right now, and her lungs are rattling: if it turns out to be a severe case, we'll take her to the vet; she needs to meet him anyway.  We went through this with Sadie when she first came home with us.  Meanwhile, we'll keep Iris away from Angel and Hawkeye until she's fit.

A dog party

Our daughter and her husband had a fence built around their back yard to keep their dog, Hawkeye, from getting tossed into doggy jail.  Yesterday Rachel and Kevin had a barbecue to celebrate the approach of spring and the wonderful new fence.  Kevin's mom and grandma were there already; oldest granddaughter Amber spent Saturday night here, so she went with us, along with Pat and Charlene and Rena.
Pat and Charlene had their dog, Mindy, of course.  As they were loading her up to go the two miles to my daughter's house, it occurred to me that Sadie could go!  After all, there's a fence now.  Granddaughter Amber took her mini-pin, and Rena loaded up her mini-doxie.  Once they were all inside the fence, what a mix that was, all of them running in different directions at once.

It was really hard to get all five dogs in one picture; this is the best I could do:  Sadie, Mindy, Hawkeye, Angel, with Sophie in the distance; Sophie is rather anti-social.

Granddaughter Natalie joined the dogs for awhile, and even found a stick to throw for Sadie.
Here's a short video of the action right after we all arrived:

I will tell you that Sadie really didn't enjoy the party that much:  Every time I stepped outside, she came to the fence and barked at me as if to say, "Take me home!"  And once we took her to the car to load her up, she couldn't wait to jump into her kennel.  

Sometimes there's a commercial that makes you smile

I know, I'm a sucker for dogs.  Sadie doesn't eat Pedigree brand dog food; she gets Science Diet.  But still, is this not the cutest commercial?  
Thanks, Wil, for this video.

Would you like to know what your dog REALLY is?

Kansas City's Fox 4 TV had a news item tonight that jumped out at me:  You can have your mutt DNA tested to find out what breeds are in her background.  Or you can get your purebred dog DNA tested to see if she's really purebred.  
I've always wondered what breeds are in Sadie's background, and I'd love to have this done.  Unfortunately, I don't feel like spending $135 to find out.  
You can read the article HERE.

Wow, did I actually go a whole day without blogging?

We're in a celebratory mood: I've been cooking and we've all been eating. We're enjoying having Cliff's youngest sister, her husband, and their dog with us. Cliff's other sister, Rena, is back from Wisconsin where she had her latest day in court with her ex. Last year she wasn't too happy with her lawyer; today she's proud that she didn't switch horses in midstream, because he earned his keep this time.

One of my readers, Vicki, left a comment saying she had an egg beater she hadn't used in the thirty years she's had it, so she's sending it to me. Merry Christmas to me, eh? My readers rock! I have to be careful what I mention here; last year I was mourning the fact that nobody has bubble lights any more, and a reader from Texas sent me some. I'm enjoying them thoroughly this year.

Have I told you that I always wanted a new Cadillac?

Cliff's youngest sister and her husband, Pat, mentioned to us that their dog, Mindy, has suddenly started getting on their bed, and she's never been allowed on any furniture. You'd have to meet Mindy to know that she is one of the most well-behaved canines you'll ever see. She obeys all commands. Pat can walk her in their St. Louis neighborhood without a leash and she never leaves his side, even when other dogs pass by.

They left Mindy here yesterday while they went to Pat's family Christmas get-together, and during a rowdy playtime with Sadie, she ran and jumped on my bed with her ball. I chided her and she jumped down, but I puzzled over this latest turn of events. What would cause such a change in the behavior of a dog who has been so nearly perfect for three years?

The light bulb turned on, and instantly I knew what had happened: The last time Pat and Charlene rode here on their motorcycle, they left their pet with an elderly neighbor who loves Mindy dearly, and has the most spoiled little lap dog you've ever seen. I could picture with my mind's eye the sweet little woman's brat-dog jumping on the bed with her at night as he's accustomed to doing, and the lady looking down at poor Mindy thinking it just isn't fair that she has to sleep in her bed alone on the floor. I visualize dear Miriam patting the bed, enticing Mindy up to join her.

When I laid out this scenario for Pat and Charlene, they agreed that had to have been what started this recent behavior. So now they're going to have to work at ridding Mindy of this unwanted behavior.

I have a slight issue with my cow, Bonnie: her calf, being at least half her size, is none too gentle when he nurses her, and he has her two front teats so sore that she kicks him away. It doesn't help that his belly is likely full from the tall grass Cliff turned them onto. This puts me in a position of doing something I had not counted on... milking every day. She isn't too "kicky" with me because I apply udder balm to the scabby places, and once it's worked into her udder, her pain stops. Hopefully this will pass. I've put Sir Loin up today, hoping he'll be hungry enough tonight to take all her milk... even if I have to put her in the stanchion and put a "kicker" on her so she can't shove him away.

It's always something with these pets, isn't it?

The local boy who recently had a wreck on slick roads, Kody, has to lie on his belly in the hospital for seven to ten days while skin grafts take hold. What an ordeal for a sixteen-year-old boy to face, and with pain from a broken pelvis, too! It's not exactly a merry Christmas for him. Even though Cliff and I barely know him now, we refer to him as "our Kody" because of the couple of years we babysat him as an infant.

He was a lifesaver for us at the time, because our son was in Germany, our daughter and her family were some distance away, and we didn't get to see our grandbabies much. We poured all the love we had for our grandchildren into Kody, and he soaked it up like a sponge. He was one of the best, most timely blessings ever sent our way.

I know he and his family would appreciate prayers for him, and I would too.

In these tough economic times, get a dog

I follow Wayside Waifs on Facebook; I'm a big fan of theirs, since that's where I got my Sadie. They posted this Ben Stein clip, and I just have to share it.

Happy dog missed soldier owner

I hear this clip has "gone viral", so many people have watched it. The soldier had been gone for six months (I think), and his dog is so happy to see him.
You know what's funny about it? This is how my Sadie acts when my son-in-law shows up. Even if she's seen him earlier the same day.

Dogs and birds

I managed to get a picture of a goldfinch at the feeder today.

This morning it was cold when I woke up, with temperatures in the upper 40's. We received a full three inches of rain yesterday, and it came hard and fast. There was lots of ditches washed in our driveway; I believe Cliff is on the tractor trying to fix that now.

Cliff and I spent a couple of hours at the Grain Valley city-wide garage sale. Truth is, we don't need a lot of things; but sometimes it's just fun to look. We both got a few cheap items. I liked the way the youngsters were getting folks' attention in the above picture; they seemed to be having lots of fun.

Sadie has her new frisbee. She is one happy dog.

I'm dog-sitting Angel today while Cliff's sister and her son do a little remodeling over at the old house. Angel found a toad that kept her occupied for quite a while.

It's the fattest toad I believe I've ever seen!

Here's a video of Angel with the toad: You may want to turn your sound down to get rid of the wind noise; Angel isn't making any noises herself, anyhow.

doggie rivalry

Cliff's sister Rena lives next door in our old house. She works three days a week, twelve-hour days. On those three days, Cliff and I tend to her Dachshund, Angel. We make sure she has a few chances to potty; if it isn't too cold, we take her with us on our walk. I always keep a sharp eye out for red-tailed hawks when we're walking with Angel, because at eight pounds she'd be easy enough prey for one of those.

Sometimes Angel is happy to spend time at our house. Other times she'd just as soon go home, and when she lets me know this, I take her on over there.

Angel's a little bit of a glutton, and we're all trying to limit her food because it's especially bad for dachshunds to get too fat. It leads to severe back problems for them.

Any time Angel comes to visit, she heads straight for Sadie's dish. Sadie sees this and runs to protect her food, hovering over it and emitting a low growl. We watch this behavior closely, but it's never come to anything except Sadie finally getting tired of the "I'm top dog" act and going to her bed. Then Angel eats, until I remove the food for the sake of her health.

What's funny is how Angel responds to Sadie's tyranny.

She stands right beside the dish and looks the other way, as if to say, "I'm not even looking at your food. I don't see it, and if I did, I wouldn't eat any. I'm not hungry."


I wouldn't THINK of taking a bite. I'm just checking the ceiling for cobwebs.

I've seen her hold this pose for as long as five minutes.

Hilarious.

My weekend so far

My daughter had a really busy week, since it was the grand climax of her company's busy season. To celebrate the end of all that work, I made one of her favorite comfort dishes, potato soup... with corn bread on the side, of course. Her mother-in-law and nephew came visiting from Carthage, so they joined us for dinner (that's the noon meal around here).

Cliff's youngest sister and her husband came Friday night, in order to be in the area for his family Christmas gathering yesterday. They brought their dog, Mindy, and she stayed with us while they went to their gift exchange. She's a well-behaved dog, and she and Sadie, being of similar size, love to frolic and wrestle around the house. Since both dogs are prolific shedders, I shudder to think how much hair we've consumed in our food this weekend... but that's just fiber, right?

Cliff's oldest sister lives next door in our old house. She's working twelve-hour days all weekend, and her mini-Dachshund, Angel, gets lonely; so we bring her over here for two or three hours, a couple times a day.

Then yesterday my oldest granddaughter, Amber, called and asked if was OK to come out and spend the night. She knows she'll get more computer time here than she would at home sharing Internet hours with her mom. She brought her mini-pin, Sophie, who presented me with a Yule log on the floor as soon as she came in the house. It's nice to know that even a dog can get in the spirit of the season. We enjoy our granddaughter and our granddog too, in spite of the occasional accident.

I honestly planned to fix some sort of healthy, low-fat meals today, to make up for the cream in the potato soup yesterday (Cliff's older sister finished off the soup when she got home from her long workday). Unfortunately, I have such a stiff neck I can't turn my head without great pain, so I'm going to plan B: Great Northern Beans cooked with a remnant of our Thanksgiving ham and plenty of onion. With, you guessed it, corn bread on the side.

I'd cook our usual oatmeal or cream-of-wheat for breakfast, but granddaughter Amber really loves pancakes, so I'll cater to her. To go with the pancakes, I have some totally unhealthy, salt-laden sausage ready to cook.

I'll make sure Cliff takes his Lipitor; it's all I can do for his heart in times like these. That, and limit his portions.

Random pictures, random happenings

When Rena was visiting during Thanksgiving weekend, her dog Angel got tired of Sadie and Mindy bugging her. So she got on her mom's lap and burrowed under the afghan.


This is Sadie yesterday, chilling out.

It was ten degrees yesterday. Cliff, Sadie and I walked anyway.

Believe it or not, with the sun shining and no breeze at all, we worked up a sweat before we were done.

Now this is something I had never seen: Ten degrees, and moles had been working under the snow!

We also saw mouse tracks and deer tracks, and snow geese flying overhead. It was one of the most enjoyable walks I've had lately.

Cliff got some news at work that he considers almost too good to be true: Management is going to allow his department to work four ten-hour days per week rather than five eight-hour days, which will give him a three-day weekend every single week! This starts January 5. They experimented with this once before, but it didn't last. We sure hope it's permanent this time.

When Sadie has company...

When Cliff's sister is visiting, that means her dog Mindy is here.

When everybody is up for the day, the dogs always have a little tussle. This is how it goes:

Men's night in the hot tub (plus one)

My husband, the son-in-law, and the brother-in-law. They're being chaperoned by my granddaughter, Natalie.

That's the lovely sunset. There was light rain when I took the picture.

My dog and Cliff's sister's dog wait patiently for people to come back in the nice, dry house. We do have a dog-friendly home.

going to the dogs, and motorcycle riding

I realize my posts have been rather disconnected lately, but that's life.

Cliff and I have been taking daily walks in our pasture for three years or so; in fact, it was those walks in the pasture that were causing Cliff to have angina, which got him to the doctor in time for his life to be saved by a four-way bypass. His sister, Rena, is living next door now, and she's started taking walks with us. She has a tiny miniature dachshund, Angel, who keeps up with us in spite of her short legs.

Our daughter and her husband are working long hours this week, so they dropped their dog, Hawkeye, off this morning. He walked with us also. Hawkeye and Angel have no idea what the big deal is about those sticks we throw for Sadie, but they sometimes make an attempt to get the stick, just in case it's a chewie of some sort.

In this shot, they all seem to be taking stock of the area. This is right behind my cabin.

I informed Cliff last weekend that we absolutely must make riding our Gold Wing a priority; it's been sitting idle much too often, what with our moving and then all the rain we've had. I have resolved that we shall ride at least once a week. Cliff agrees, and says I'm the best wife ever.

We had errands in four different towns: Oak Grove, Odessa, Higginsville, and Richmond. None of these towns are on the way to any of the others, but we decided to make it a nice, leisurely ride and covered them all.

Notice Cliff's name on the bike. Our errand in Odessa was to get our names on the Wing: Cliff's name is on the left; mine is on the right side.

I don't know if you can see him when you click on the picture to make it larger, but he's in the shelter in the background.


We took a picnic lunch, which we ate at a city park in Richmond. We were gone four hours, and came home relaxed and refreshed and in time for Cliff to head to work. Bummer, eh? He's used all his vacation and sick days but 3, so he has no choice but to keep his nose to the grindstone until November, when he gets ten more days.

They're talking about going to four-day workweeks where he's employed; we're hoping and praying this happens, because we'd have three-day weekends every week. It sounds too good to be true.

Of horses, dogs, and other mundane matters

When we adopted our dog, Sadie, from Wayside Waifs, they sent a bag of Science Diet dog food home with us, and it's what we've fed her ever since. It's pricey, but she loves it and seems to thrive on it. All my previous dogs made do with Purina, but after losing Mandy suddenly the way I did, I was an easy sell for anything that might be good for my dog.

The worst thing about Science Diet dog food, other than the price, is that you can't get it at Walmart or in any grocery store. When Sadie's out of dog food, it's a special side trip to Feldman's or Orscheln's or Tractor Supply. This doesn't always fit into our plans.

So I was recently in Walmart when Sadie was out of food, and decided for the first time ever to change her diet. Iams is every bit as expensive as her Science Diet, so it surely must be just as good, right? I bought a smallish bag, just to see.

I could tell she didn't eat in her usual hoggish manner, but she did eat it. Then the second day I gave it to her, she puked. And again, a few days later.

I know, some dogs puke a lot. Sadie does not.

So yesterday I bought some Science Diet for her, and put it on one side of her food dish with Iams on the other. She couldn't get enough Science Diet dog food! It's like she had been deprived for the past couple of weeks.

Lesson learned. It may just be her personal preference, but I'm sticking with Science Diet from now on.



On another note: Yesterday evening I rode Libby around in front of the barn, and then in the big lot awhile. She did great. When I led her out to the pasture to turn her loose, I hung around and petted her, since she was in no hurry to wander off. Then I hugged on Blue awhile. I started walking back toward the point, and the horses followed.


At the far side of the alfalfa field, I sat down, and Libby came over beside me as if to keep me company, nibbling small bites of grass beside me. After she wandered off, Blue came on over and lowered his head for some petting.

Horses look different when you're looking up at them, don't they?

I had forgotten how relaxing it is to spend time in the pasture with horses, simply watching. It's one of the best stress-reducers I know of.