Since it’s rained like crazy and the rivers are still rising, I thought it would be a good time to check out our pond, the arroyo, and the riparian areas at the front of our property.
Also, since it’s time for the second wave of wildflowers, I’d check them out, too. I’m always happy when these pink beauties are shining forth, so that was a good start!
The dogs came along and enjoyed their own “pond” made by Lee’s unfinished drainage area.
It’s the time of year when the lush grass of spring becomes the forage of autumn. Just yesterday we were riding the horses through the tall grass, up past Fiona’s belly. Today it looks like this:
While my friends and I were out frolicking in Temple and eating great food (Megg’s), the Vrazels had baled a lot of silage. Silage is hay that ferments a bit. Cattle love it.
They did our whole meadow, which delighted the dogs. They can run without having to bound like deer, which they cannot do amid all those wildflowers in front of the house.
The other residents who love baling season are the raptors. When I was driving back from horse riding, the air and ground were both full of hawks. I counted eight red-tails as well as the harrier. I saw a hawk leap in the air and land on a creature. Boom.
I hope there weren’t too many nests of the local sparrows destroyed. I remember finding one last year, but haven’t seen any today. I also worry about turtles. Spice nearly stepped on one yesterday!
I guess that’s how it goes here in ranching land. Life and death.
I must say that the baling machine is cool. It picks up a round hay bale, then spins it round and round as it wraps it in plastic. And that’s a life and death thing, too.
Where does that plastic end up? Lots of it’s in landfills. Even organic farms use the stuff. I just hope the advantages of silage over hay are worth the cost.
But wait, nowadays hay tends to be baled in netting, not with wire. That’s a mess, too. I’ll have to look into this more.
Facebook is good for something: This morning it reminded me that I found my precious doggie Carlton a year ago today. Time really flies, doesn’t it? Some of you may know this story, but I’ll share it in Carlton’s honor.
I was really missing having a dog to hang out with when I was in Austin, and I wanted to help out a sad dog, so Mandi, Anita, and I started looking around for a small-ish dog who could go back and forth from Austin to the Hermits’ Rest with me.
My experience at Austin Pets Alive was really sad. The only dog that wasn’t a pit mix was scared to death of people.
We kept watching the Cameron dog pound for likely suspects, when three puppies came in. All three were friendly and sweet, but the white one with blue eyes looked to me like he’d stay smaller. I took him out for a walk, and he was SO friendly. Sandra at the pound (now known as A Touch of Love) was sure he’d be a small dog, and I was smitten by his cuddliness.
Continue reading “A Year of Carlton the Dogman”Fair warning: the reason I wrote nothing in any of my blogs yesterday is that even when I was resting I was doing stuff! Since I’m not at the computer yet, I’ll just summarize and write more later.
Friday was spent driving all over the county with Lee and Mandi looking for a good used car for her, and seeing if we could find a replacement for our huge diesel truck that we could actually use around Cameron.
We found that I like a Chevy Traverse and Lee likes Suburbans, which are still too giant for me. Unfortunately Lee couldn’t get the trade-in he wanted on the truck, so we walked away. But al least I realized that a smaller SUV was okay for me and at least some Chevy vehicles aren’t plasticky.
The drive was worth it, though, because the countryside on the back road to Rockdale was gorgeous.
Because I don’t take my phone on trail rides (just Sara’s old emergency flip phone) I have no photos. So, enjoy these paintbrushes and cattle while I brag about our horses.
But wait! I have sad calves to share! These little darlings got weaned and wormed today. Much mooing is happening now. Sniff.
Today we went on a much longer ride than usual, all the way to the far end of our property. To get there, we had many obstacles to face, and I’m happy to say both Apache and Spice were very brave. Continue reading “Leading Horses to Water”
Bonus post! Lee wanted me to get some pictures of the dogs out in the Texas paintbrush flowers, and I didn’t argue much. They didn’t mind the chill in the air!
It’s endlessly enjoyable to watch the dogs run, especially the speedy two. Vlassic and Carlton have so much fun, and the others join in when the tussling starts.
Today, Alfred was hanging out with Lee, but I got plenty of still shots, and even some video, of the others.
https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FHermitDogs%2Fvideos%2F587152521762291%2F&show_text=0&width=560
I’m so glad to see how well our Pound Puppy Carlton has done. In a year he has grown and thrived. What a guy.
Enjoy the flowers and the canines!
My last few posts have been duds. Nothing has died or anything, so I understand. But it’s wildflower season!
I’ve been driving by some really pretty patches of pink flowers on my way down the big Far West hill lately. I wanted to know what they were.
So, with the pretext of taking dog photos among the bluebonnets, I got Anita to go with me to check them out. They are Drummond’s onion, which is a pink version the wild onions that are blooming everywhere in this area.
I love alliums, so I was happy to identify a new one.
And yes, we did frolic among the sweet-smelling bluebonnets with Pickle and Vlassic. I failed pretty well at doing a floral selfie, but we had fun.
I’ll try to get some traditional bluebonnet pictures of the other doggies back at the ranch.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, the day when those of us with Irish ancestors (or Irish children or both) celebrate their heritage. This day always coincides with the part of the Texas spring when it’s so green that it almost hurts your eyes.
Each year I try to burn the spring green into my brain, to carry me through parched brown summers.
So, yesterday, when the late afternoon light was especially suited to enhancing the green of spring, I took many photos. Some were interesting. Others breathtaking. I hope you enjoy the Hermits’ Rest at its greenest.
The Hermits Creeklet with budding willows and dewberries.
Just a funny little Vlassic story.
This morning I had to gas up the car before heading to Cameron. I pulled into the bay, got out, and Vlassic jumped out right after me.
I was worried he’d get hit by a car at the very busy station.
But no. He ran around the car at the pump next to me, which had also just pulled up, and jumped into that car. He was ready to go.
The man at the other pump laughed and laughed. He said, “He must have known I have a dog that looks just like that!”
Right now we are waiting for Lee at the scenic Buckholts State Bank, where Vlassic is focusing his laser vision on people who have the nerve to park next to us.
(Weather report sidebar: yes, it’s raining again. We sure enjoyed that one sunny day this week.)
When the people leave, he’s trying to break into my giant box of egg cartons.
First of all, I’d like to sincerely thank all of you who have said such kind and supportive things to Mandi after yesterday’s post about Sweetie. I know she feels the love from all of you. And I mean ALL of you. Her post and the one about Brody getting hurt are the two most-read posts since I started this blog. Close behind came dead chickens. Hmm. I sense a theme.
So, here you go, something on both injured dogs AND dead chickens. Something for everybody, huh?
I guess you can tell from my tone that this isn’t all that horrible. Like Mandi said yesterday, when you live out in the country, you see life and death every day. I think it gets you a better perspective; we all are going to go sometime, for some reason, so let’s appreciate what we have now. Platitudes, maybe, but true.
We did have another chicken loss this week. It was really hot, then really cold, and I guess if a chicken had to die of natural causes, the cold time is probably better. Poor little Ameracauna was just sitting on her nest. Sara thinks she was eggbound or had some other issue. At least nothing ate her, and it was peaceful. Poor dear.
I mentioned that the egg production had ramped up, but it had settled to four a day, which isn’t many for the number of chickens we had. As we were dealing with the dead chicken, Tyler, who lives in the cabin by the coop, came out. I said feel free to take a few eggs now, since we have enough for at least our community. He said, “Oh, I’ve been finding them in a weird place lately…oh my gosh!” He had turned to the shelves outside his door and found SEVEN eggs from a brown hen on the top shelf. Someone found a nice, warm roost. So, yesterday, everybody got some eggs!
Continue reading “Chickens and Dogs, Oh My”
