Daphne, and the fight it took to save her

Dearest Gentle Readers,

You have asked, and I have held out, in equal parts to protect my heart, in case this story did not end how I was hoping it would end, as well as to protect the folks who made this all possible. So, go pop some popcorn, grab your favorite blanket, and let’s settle on the couch for a piping hot cup of tea, served, by yours truly….

In 2020, our beloved barn cat of 18 years started acting odd. Perplexed we took her to the veterinarian where they told us her retinas had ruptured overnight, causing her to become instantaneously blind, and after discussing her quality of life with the barn owner, we collectively euthanized her at the suggestion of our veterinarian. The loss of Lilly left us reeling, so The Nurse and I went to our local animal shelter, and asked them if they has any semi-feral cats who would maybe not be adoptable due to their disposition. The shelter had an older kitten, and they were elated we were willing to take the chance on a kitty who desperately needed a home, but was not highly adoptable. We had every intention of acclimating this cat in our climate controlled warm room, and having her fill the shoes of the sweet girl we had lost days prior.

Our animal shelter doesn’t have a veterinarian on staff though, so where they require a spay/neuter on all animals in their care, it is covered by the new adopter post-adoption. Knowing the animal shelter is very serious about their spay/neuter contracts, and wanting to stay on the right side of the law (They will totally take you to court if you breech your contract!) I decided to put this baby in my office until her spay was complete, just in case she became a floozy and took up with a traveling Tom.

As luck would have it, days after adopting her, Covid-19 hit in all it’s glory and inconvenience. Being that I am an American who is used to instant gratification, and had never lived through a pandemic before, I distinctly remember saying to The Nurse: “I’ll just keep these her in my office until the pandemic is over, and the veterinarians reopen for elective surgeries. This won’t last more than a week.”

These are words that would haunt me for a LONG time, as time droned on and our lives were categorized between two distinctly different time periods BC (Before Covid) and AC (After Covid). By the time the veterinarians opened back up for elective surgeries, Daphne had been living in our house, graduating from my office, and it was over a year and a half later. It was evident that where she was not fond of human interaction, she loved other cats greatly, but where she was able to live in our house with our other cats, life with her was not easy, because we could not catch her to trim her nails, put flea medication on her, or do any of the things you do with cats you can handle, however, because she had become accustomed to our home, I was struggling to make her into a barn cat. The thought of a human not being able to keep her safe, or control the narrative, made me so uneasy. She wasn’t an optimal house guest, destroying my furniture, eluding capture, becoming wise to a live trap, however I still loved her and wanted nothing but the best for her.

While all this was going on, and our world was falling apart due to the pandemic, I found an animal rescue that was local to me, where I was able to physically volunteer, an oddity during the times of Covid-19. It was the perfect situation for me, and after being in charge of the shit show for such a long time it was nice to just be a part of the shit show for a bit, and the time I volunteered there gave me something to keep my mind and heart busy during Covid, and long after. During one of my visits, I discussed my dilemma with the director of the animal rescue, and she eagerly informed me that they had the perfect solution for my girl.

There, they had an area specifically for feral and semi-feral cats where they could live with a colony of other cats, but minimal people, and it sounded like a wonderful idea. I had no idea what I was signing Daphne up for.

I felt fortunate to have this opportunity, knowing that many shelters were full, and agreed to relinquish my ownership of her to the rescue, with the understanding she would be well cared for in a controlled environment with food, enrichment, veterinary care and the companionship of other cats.

After Daphne was put into general population, I had gone to visit her, and this was the first time I had really been into this particular area. I noticed there was a film covering all the surfaces in this area, it was sort of a mixture of grime and the place felt sticky. I noticed the hose was leaking into the outdoor area, and questioned if that was why their floor was was wet/sticky. Quickly it was explained the hose was broken, and someone was going to fix it. Then there was the stench of the litter boxes and the fact there was diarrhea all over the floor/walls in this area. When I made mention of that, it was explained that many of the cats in this area also had bad litter box habits and sometimes due to stress and the constant change of food, paired with the fact these cats were given all the food that was not “good enough” for the other cats at the shelter, they would have diarrhea. My “spidey-senses” were starting to tingle with these excuses, however I was willing to buy those answers, giving into the fact it would be hard to keep any area with 100+ cats in it, clean, and in the end I had decided I should not look any further into this situation, as I kept reminding myself: “This is not going to mirror your home. It never was, and where it isn’t as clean as you might have wanted, at least Daphne is safe, not in jeopardy of being hit by a car, killed by a coyote, and she has access to food, water, and friends.”

As summer turned into fall/winter though I began to worry.

By this time, Daphne had an upper respiratory infection, with significant nasal discharge, and had lost a large bit of weight. I also noticed there was no heat present for these cats, and with the door kept open leading from the inside to the outside, it was the same temperature inside as it was the outside, and that hose that was leaking in the summer? It had never been repaired, so the entire area was nothing but a cesspool of feces, grime, water, hair, and just plain filth. I expressed my concerns to one of the main volunteers, and was assured they would have a veterinarian evaluate Daphne and she stated cats were fine without heat because they “would grow a winter coat, and be perfectly warm.” My concern was, Daphne had lost so much weight, she had no reserves in terms of fat to keep her warm, and with no blankets or other methods to stay dry and warm, I was worried for her.

As time progressed I continued to watch Daphne, and she just seemed to continue to fade. By this time I was worried enough about her, and she looked bad enough that I decided this was not a good living arrangement for her, so I asked if I could just adopt her and take her back home. I was told very matter a factly, “If you loved her that much, you shouldn’t have ever brought her here to begin with.”

All I could think was: “You’re right. This was a horrible decision.” and in my heart as I helplessly watched her sit there, in an unheated building, body hunched over, so thin you could count every vertebrae in her spine, with her runny eyes, snot leaking out of her face, trying to keep herself warm, I knew I had done something I had never in all my years of rescue done before.

I put an animal in a horrible situation, and every time I closed my eyes, that vision would continue to haunt me.

To be continued….

Saving Juice....

Thursday evening I had made plans with myself to go hiking after work, the problem was it was 35 degrees outside, and thanks to my ADHD, I had once again lost my coat. 

Honestly not my fault though, because the only thing that changes direction faster than me is the weather in Ohio. Do you need a jacket? A tank top? A snowsuit? A swimsuit? Who knows.... Don't like the weather?! No problem, it will be a different season tomorrow.  It's difficult for me to keep track of my belongings on a good day, throw a jacket into the mix? I'm screwed!  

I had just talked myself out of going on the hike, afraid I would freeze to death, when a friend of mine texted me stating she found my jacket at the rescue I've been working with lately. It was kismet! My jacket was found, and it was only 3 minutes from where I was going to hike. Things were looking good for me.

Standing at the counter of the rescue, getting the scoop on the latest dog additions and adoptions from a couple friends, my phone starts to vibrate. I glance down and it's my friend Fawn asking me to come help her catch a little dog that had been running loose next to the highway all day.

Borrowing a leash, I immediately started to make my way towards Fawn with the hope I could help. She explained there were several people out in the area where the dog was running loose, and that she had her dog with her in an effort to coax the dog, however they were having no luck.

She also warned me there was someone there who was calling everyone off because they has called the animal shelter. I told her to stay there because I was less than a mile away, and I wanted to see exactly what was going on. 

At this point, my head told me I should just walk away from this shit show. There's always egos involved in this type of situation, and to be honest, I wasn't about the bullshit that day. I also didn't have the energy to deal with "energy vampires." The heart though, it knows God never puts me where He doesn't want me, so I rolled my eyes at the universe, and continued. 

Upon arriving I could see quite a few people milling about, several of them being friends of mine, who knew it was only a matter of time before I showed up, and in the epicenter of them all was a blonde chihuahua who was camped out in a corn field. It was easy to see the little dog in question was in survival mode, and terrified as it barked at us while running backwards, hoping to keep us all far away. It was obvious this little dog would likely need to be trapped, the thing we had on our side though was the fact it was a chihuahua. Chihuahuas have a tendency to be very codependent on people, and there was a report this little dog had gotten within 10 feet of one of my friends, so I figured it just needed a little more convincing. 

The shelter came out, and set a trap, with the agreeance the trap would be checked through the night, and the shelter would take the dog if it got into their trap, but looking at this dog, I wasn't satisfied with walking away though, because I knew this dog was in grave danger of being coyote food. I also recognized this dog was shutting down, she was in survival mode, and the last place I wanted her to go was a place where there would be 40 other dogs barking, and surrounded by concrete. I wanted her on a couch, warm and safe. So, when all the people got into their cars to leave, and I whispered to Fawn: "Let them go, let's see if we can catch this dog after a few more people leave." Then one of the other women returned and said, "I really think I can catch this dog." So, she got low, and crawled up to the dog getting within feet, but when she would reach out, the dog would back away from her. Then as we all stood there in amazement, as soon as she gave up, and started to walk away the dog started to follow her!

We all held our breath as the little dog followed her up to the door of a local juicery, and we all thought if she opened the door the dog might follow her inside. We should have known better though.... This last move did allow the three of us to sort of corner the little dog. From there I crawled on my belly up to the dog as we blocked it's exits, and I was finally able to lasso it. 

In the end there was a little disagreement on who was going to take possession of the dog as clearly some of the animal shelter employees are either not as versed on Ohio dog law as they should be, are used to bullying folks and getting away with it, or they have just plumb lost their fucking minds after working together for several decades? Who knows.... But, I never bring a knife to a gunfight, and I have lawyer on retainer for just this reason, as there was no way anyone was going to pry this dog out of my dying hands without a fight. The dog needed a home, not an institution, and I know she would agree. 

Named to honor the juicery that was so concerned for her well being, welcome to the good life, Juice. Brighter days are ahead!

Thank you their generous offer to sponsor this dog, Juice will be available for adoption through Our Farm Sanctuary in Tipp City, Ohio. 

Pen-palling: It's pure magic!

Artist unknown

She lives several thousand miles away from me, clear on the opposite side of the country.

She loves dogs, but can't have one right now because her landlord has a "no pet" policy.

She enjoys gardening, and reading romance novels.

She enjoys early mornings, when her city is quiet.

I enjoy her.

She is my penpal.

When Covid-19 started I was suddenly thrust into a world I didn't know. Churches closed, restaurants closed, I was without a job, and nothing in my world felt secure. It was in the isolation that I started to crave companionship. Someone I could talk to, tell my fears to, and connect with. I am an extroverted introvert, and where I require a large amount of downtime to "re-charge" my internal batteries, I also definitely require a fairly large opportunity to seek out human companionship. Being without the daily interaction of people in the physical form started to take a toll on me.

One night I was surfing the internet after a Zoom meeting, and I was just sad. The people on my Zoom call were all people I had loved "in the flesh" just months before, and where I loved seeing them on the computer screen, it just wasn't the same as being able to hug them, of laugh with them in person.

As my fingers were scrolling, I came across an article written by a woman who described exactly how I was feeling, and through her frustration she had started pen-palling, allowing the letter to become the physical connection. 

I am an analog whore. I love the glide of a good fountain pen, the smell of paper, the color of Washi tape and the weight of my journal in my hand. These are the things that ground me to the earth. Connecting with people through written word sounded like Heaven to me! The thought of having a penpal instantly transported me back to third grade where I would curl up on a bean bag chair in the back of the school library, and flip through the Highlights magazine looking for the perfect penpal: someone who had a dog, and liked to read. (PS: My taste in penpals still hasn't changed....) 

I flipped over to Facebook and into the search bar, I typed: penpal group, and there at my fingertips were hundreds of people wanting to connect through written word. They were in need of companionship during a pandemic, or had been moved to just enjoy a simpler life, and wanted to meet new people with similar interests. It took me all of a few minutes to realize I was amongst like minded people. 

It was a little frightening, however I uploaded my picture and started telling folks about myself, and asked if anyone was looking for a penpal. I vowed I wouldn't tell anyone "no" if they reached out to show interest, and I have met the nicest people. These people allow me into their world. We talk about their kids, their pets, their jobs, and their fears. The connection and friendship this has brought me has been one of the best things to happen to me during this pandemic. 

Surprisingly when I tell people I have started pen-palling, people always ask me: How can I do it?

Below is how you can start, and some of the helpful things I have learned along the way. 

1) There are many groups on Facebook that center around pen-palling. My favorites have been: 

        Ladies Who Penpal

        Worldwide Snail Mail Pen Pals

        Pen-Pals Forever

        Snail Mail Pen Pals

        Snail Mail Pen Pals Ladies Only

2) Decide how many penpals you can honestly write. Keep in mind all friendships take work, but a friendship based on written letters requires time and effort on your part. You don't want to over extend yourself, and then not write, therefore leaving your new friend disappointed and wondering what happened to you or what they might have said wrong.

3) First letters are awkward for every one. Give your new friendship some time to blossom before deciding a person may not be a good fit for you. If you decide the person is not a good match, let them know that it's not going to work. Ghosting people is not cool and hurts a lot worse than honesty. 

4) Ask questions. You're trying to get to know your new friends. Ask them the normal questions about family, pets, etc. but then ask them any "burning" questions or silly questions you may have also. One penpal asked me: "What is in your refrigerator?" This question still remains my favorite question, because I realized I need to eat at home more often. :) 

5) Remember, your penpals are real people. They have lives too. Don't assume you have been ghosted. Perhaps life is just a little hectic, and they haven't had a chance to write you back, or the dreaded fact that letters do sometimes get lost in the mail. Where I make it a policy that I don't "friend" my penpals on social media, because I want our friendship to be based on our letters, I do have them in Facebook messenger, so I will often reach out with a: "Hope you are having a great day, letter sent." Just so they know I mailed them.

6) There's an International Forever Stamp available at the post office that will get a letter, 1 oz. and under, to anywhere in the world. This realization was a game changer for me in terms of corresponding with folks outside of the US.

There's a whole world of people waiting to get to know you, and pen-palling as an adult is just as magical as it was when we were children. 

 Enjoy! 

OMG! It's happening!

    

    Some of you saw the Facebook Live video I did several weeks ago regarding a broody hen I had named Diane. 

    Diane, named after my mother, is a Buff Orpington hen who desperately wants to be a mother. Several weeks ago, she became an aggressive fool, and we were sort of at our wits end, when a friend of ours generously brought over several fertilized eggs. I have read everything I can possibly read on how this works, what to expect, and discovered that I can do nothing except sit back and let Jesus take the wheel when/if the time comes. Diane has rolled her eggs from box to box, and been a resident psycho about stealing EVERYONE's eggs to put in her nest, so I honestly expected her to have killed the little things by now.

    But, right on schedule, I went out tonight to tuck the flock in and one of our eggs had "pipped" and was chirping! We should have a baby tomorrow! 

    I am so excited and can't believe this actually worked. I was concerned her eggs would not hatch and it would mess with her chicken psyche. (I know this supposedly doesn't happen, but she wants those babies so bad, and I can't help but want them for her!) I was fully prepared to have to buy her a few day old chicks so as to save her therapy later on, but it looks like I might not have to do that. 

     I will keep you all posted on the "new additions".... 

Neil Patrick Harris Season, has arrived!

Today it’s in the mid-50’s here in Ohio, and that means it’s Neil Patrick Harris Season!

 

What is Neil Patrick Harris Season you ask?!

 

Neil Patrick Harris Season started several years ago after we realized our dog was NOT the brightest animal on the planet. You see, every year we get a few blissful days in the middle of winter, where spring tries to peek through, and gives us hope that eventually the hell that is winter will come to an end. This usually happens just after our darkest days of winter, when we can’t wait another minute to open the doors and windows to air out the house.

 

At this house though, the only problem with letting the fresh air indoors is: Anders the dog. 

 

Anders is beautiful, and has some intelligence, but most days we wonder just where God went wrong when they were handing out brains. Now, he has a brain, it just seems like God assembled him on a Friday afternoon at about quitting time and He was in a hurry to get out the door, because Anders got about half the dose of intelligence that most Belgian Tervurens receive.

 

A couple years ago, Anders could not get the hang of the screen door. We would let him out of his kennel, and CRASH! Anders would run through that door lookin’ like the Kool-Aid man. This happened time and time again. 

 

Anders… 

Busted screen… 

Door off hinges… 

Trip to Menard’s… 

Nurse repairs screen… 

Repeat…

 

It happened so many times that I’m positive the stock market skyrocketed for Menard’s just off the purchase of our replacement screen alone. Finally, at my wit’s end, I noticed our daughter had a laminated headshot of Neil Patrick Harris hanging on the refrigerator for a college art project she was working on, and there my idea was born.

 

I put that head shot of Neil Patrick Harris on the screen door, and Anders suddenly had brakes! I’m not sure if it worked like it works with birds, where putting something on a window makes them realize there’s a window there, or if Anders was just afraid of Neil’s life-sized head, not attached to a body, staring at him. What I do know is: We bust out Neil Patrick Harris every year, on a day we like to call Neil Patrick Harris Season. The day when we get our first break in the weather, and where we remind Anders that he needs to find his brakes and USE them, because warmer weather is on the horizon. Neil says so!

 

PS: Neil Patrick Harris, if you see this, we lost the usual headshot we use, if you could have your PR person send us a new one, we would be most appreciative….. 

The Hound with a Home: Adventures of Tilly

The hound is coming along, but it's a slow go, and she reminds me of Drew Barrymore's character on 50 First Dates. Our life with her starts over every day, sometimes several times a day. She is getting more comfortable here, and she loves the other dogs. They are really where she is consistently comfortable, which is what I suspected would happen in the beginning of our relationship together. 

It has become real obvious to The Nurse and I that this girl will not be able to live in a normal pet home at this point, and I'm not sure that she ever will be "normal". She requires a lot of life modification to survive, and I don't know too many "pet people" who would know how to do this without losing patience and making her worse than she is, if that's even possible. 

In my last life, I was fine with having many dogs, but as life has progressed, I can say I don't enjoy having a bunch of dogs anymore, but sometimes God gives you what He wants not what you want, and I feel like it was no accident this girl entered The Nurse and I's life. After a lot of discussion and being honest with what this girl needs, The Nurse and I have decided to adopt Tilly the Hound.

I don't know that she will be a permanent member of our family, but I do know that we are going to continue on with her rehab as part of our pack. My prayer is that she will eventually recover enough to be a pet in someone else's home, but now there is no pressure for when that has to happen. She can take her time, and move at her pace. It's said that it takes the average rescue dog a year to feel 100% comfortable in their new home, and I imagine we are going to need every bit of that time frame with Tilly. 

We found a veterinarian who has been gracious enough to spay her on a Saturday so their clinic is quieter, we can drop her off at the last minute, and wait for her to be done, so she doesn't have to be without people she knows for very long, and so we minimize anyone handling her who might not be as dog savvy as she requires. It's another step towards being an "owned" dog in this house, and we are happy to give her that opportunity. 

I needed to know her future was wide open, and we have secured that for her this weekend.

  

Recipe: Spaghetti with Shrimp, Garlic & Broccoli

 Several nights ago, I shared this picture on my personal Facebook page, and several people reached out wanting the recipe. As always, with any recipe I offer, you can guarantee it's easy to prepare, and tastes good, otherwise I wouldn't bother, because a chef I am not!

Enjoy!

 

Spaghetti with Shrimp, Garlic & Broccoli

1/2 lb. spaghetti, uncooked

3 cups of broccoli

1/2 cup Italian Dressing

1 lb. uncooked, deveined, peeled large shrimp

4 tsp. minced garlic

1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese

1) Cook the spaghetti in a large saucepan as directed on the package, and add the broccoli to the boiling water for the last 2 minutes.

2) Meanwhile, heat the dressing in a large skillet on medium, adding the garlic and shrimp. Cook and stir 3-4 minutes or until the shrimp turn pink.

3) Drain the spaghetti mixture, return to the pan. Add the shrimp mixture and cheese, mix together and top with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese.

Serve with garlic bread.  

Breathing blankets and broken dogs.....

Last week, The Nurse and I went to our local animal shelter to purchase dog licenses for out dogs. While we were there, we walked up and down the kennels saying hello to all the dogs that were there. The Nurse stopped at one kennel, and said: "Look that blanket is breathing." I looked in the kennel, and could see the blanket and the bed moving up and down in a rhythmic fashion, indicating something was alive in the kennel, but there was no dog to be seen. 

We were talking to the shelter staff about the dogs and cats, and st some point there was a discussion about me getting a puppy out to play with it. It was during that conversation that one of the employees said, "Go look at that dog in Kennel #6. She needs someone to get her out." 

The Nurse nudged me and said, "That's the kennel with the breathing blankets, but you can't see the dog!"

I walked back to the kennel, open the door, and lifted the bed. There was the most terrified dog I have ever seen in my life. Her fur was wet and yellow with urine, and she was laying in her own feces. I picked her up, and she instantly released her anal glands in fear. I carried her up to one of the "meet and greet" rooms and she coward on the floor under the bench, just trying to get away from us. 

The shelter staff explained that she had been at the shelter for a week, and that they had used a live trap to catch her, because she was running loose in some woods out in the country. The went on to say she was so scared that she wouldn't walk, hid behind the toilet when they attempted to work with her, and never even moved to urinate or deficate, she just voided and laid in it.

My heart broke.

There wasn't much discussion between The Nurse and I on what we were going to do, I think we both knew this dog was never going to recover in the shelter, and that was IF she could be rehabilitated at all, so we decided to take her home and try to foster her. 

In my 22 years of dog rescue, I have only fostered one other dog this broken and shutdown. That dog was Wigzi, whom I ended up driving to a sanctuary in Nebraska because he never recovered enough to make it in a home. Usually, when you have a dog this broken, they don't like people, but they like dogs. This girl was so shutdown that she didn't even like dogs. We have been working with her and where she makes no sense, she seems to be making some very small steps towards being a dog.

We will see where we go as we work through the idiosyncrasies that this little girl has, and my prayer is she will one day function well enough to at least live a life that is fulfilling to her. Really, that is all I hope for any of my rescue pups..... 

Happy New Year's!

    

When I originally sat down to write this New Year's post all I could think about was the negative that 2020 brought, and I originally wasn't going to make resolutions (Gasp!), but that's not me, and a lot of great things did happen this year, and while I'm looking forward to the new beginnings and hope that a fresh year brings, I will miss 2020 a little bit.

    2020 taught me what was important to and made me realize how much I had to loose. It demanded I slow down and pause, something I'm not very good at, and it also brought with it the chance for re-evaluating my life, who I am, and where I want to be. 

    2020 outlined just how important "my tribe" was to me, and it showed me who was real and who was hiding behind a mask. It gave me a chance at closure, and it took away the sting of what was once a painful "goodbye". 

    I was able to wrap up the first draft of my first lesbian fiction piece, and get a pretty good handle on my next book, a memoir on emotional abuse. Without the stillness of a pandemic I would have never had the time to write to the capacity I did, and boy did I write: 1,138,112 words! (Santa brought me new journal inserts so I can go into the new year with my pencils flying....)

    As we enter this new year, let's do so with a reckless abandonment, in awe of the possibilities before us, and let's listen to our heart's desire, for the heart knows what we are made of and all of our potential. 

    

    

    

Death Threats, Diet Pepsi, and Post Election Crazy...

     

    This last week has been a trying week. I have wanted Donald Trump out of office before he was even in office because of the vile person he is. I have seen the man behind the curtain for decades, and I knew he would make a mockery of our county with his antics and he did not let me down. What has let me down though are some of his followers.

    I am struggling with the folks who I assumed were my friends, and were people I respected, as I watch them lash out and spew things about racism, homosexuality and thump their chest while spouting off false rhetoric. It makes my soul hurt. 

    I don't care who you voted for: Trump, Biden, or Kanye West. It really doesn't matter to me. What does matter is decency, equality, and respect, and that has been missing over the last 4 years due to the fact it has been perfectly acceptable (and even encouraged) for deplorable people to act stupid according to our President. 

    Today they have been out in full force, and I had to unfriend someone who I considered a friend as he, yet again, derailed on my Facebook and I received a death threat from another friend. (Classy!) I guess this might be the new norm for awhile. 

    The question I have struggled with today is, what do I do about the friends who I'm seeing in a different light now? Ignoring their behavior doesn't seem like the thing to do, because if I ignore it, then I'm saying their behavior is acceptable. And where voting for whoever you want is okay, being an asshole to other people is not. If I confront it, then I'm in for a fight and I'm tired to my very core. 

    The one thing that made my day today was my friend Tim. 

    

    Tim is a Republican and he wanted Trump to win the election just as bad as I wanted Biden to win the election. Last week, Tim and I placed a friendly wager on the election where the loser would buy the winner a soda. Well, Tim came through, and he made my day! I have laughed and laughed at his arts and crafts skills. Timmy didn't just come through with the soda, he had that thing blinged out with Trump paraphernalia! This is going on my desk and I will save it for forever, for 2 reasons.

    1) It makes me laugh and brings joy to my life.

    2) I wish all of my friendships could be like my friendship with Tim. We banter back and forth, but respect each other for the opposing views we have. Those are the types of people I want in my life. 

Prayers for Extinguishment Soon!

     I have been in an absolute creative funk as of late. I need to write, I want to write, but the words just won't come. I know this is due to the impending election. 

    If the word was flat, and I could put 3 people in a canoe and send them over the edge, I would pick in this order: 

    1) Donald Trump

    2) Martha Stewart

    3) Sarah Palin

    I knew our country was going to be one giant dumpster fire under the direction of Trump, and I kept my mouth quiet about it 4 years ago. Actually, I thought it was such a joke that people would vote for him that I wasn't worried about him winning. (And I guess technically he didn't, he only won because of our country's archaic electoral college voting system...)  However, our country is so far gone, I refuse to keep quiet this time and am praying for extinguishment soon. (And before you all blow up my blog, and start sending nasty-grams, just know I refuse to fight politics with anyone. You have your opinion and I have mine. We will agree to disagree...) 

    I am waiting on pins and needles for this election to be over, and with any luck Trump will ride on out of 2020 and it will be the best thing to happen to me this year. I've done everything I can do on my part including donating to Biden's campaign, volunteering with the HRC, MoveOn, Working Americans, Planned Parenthood, MeidasTouch, and Educators for Ohio. I have encouraged other people to vote, and will once again be offering rides to the polls on election day. The only thing I have left is to pray with everything I've got that there is a wave of blue next week, that our country will return to some normalcy, and that my creativity will return with gusto. 

    

Lost and Found.....

    

        Wednesday evening I went to tuck my chickens in for the night and when I performed my chicken count and I only had 15 hens. There should have been 16. 

    I counted my flock several more times, and my heart was in my stomach, because as a "chicken tender" you put a lot of effort into your flock, and it takes a bit of time and effort to raise them from day old babies through the egg layer stage of life. We all acknowledge the realization that something could, and usually does, happen to your flock, but it's never easy when it happens and perhaps because this was a project I started during Covid and in the wake of losing a much loved friend, but I have put a lot of emotion into these birds.

    The Nurse and I searched and searched Wednesday night, but still came up empty handed. When the hen wasn't there Thursday morning, I knew she was gone for good. Thursday morning we did notice the top of the ceramic bird bath was overturned, therefore we assumed it was a raccoon or fox who had stolen our girl.

    I just left the birdbath where is was, honestly because I was a little pissed off. How dare a woodland creature come by for a drink to wash down the chicken he stole from me! 

    I thought this was over.....

   Saturday morning, I was talking to my mom on the phone via Facetime, and was showing her the chickens when I noticed a cicada walking across the top of the still overturned birdbath. I decided to flip the top over, and to my complete and utter shock, out came Thirteen, stumbling like a drunk who had been on an all night binge. I screamed to my mom, "Oh, my God! I found her!" Then chaos ensued.

    Immediately the other chickens started chasing her as she ran towards the coop, trying to attack her. I was screaming at them to let go of her. She was confused and visibly not well, but wanted to be in her coop. She was covered in feces and blood. She was dragging her left wing and her left foot, but she was still very much alive. I caught up with her finally, separated her from the flock, who had clearly forgotten her in the 60 hours she was missing, and by some stroke of miraculism she started eating, drinking and protesting that she wanted to be with her flock again. 

    I gave her a bath, left her in a dog crate for the rest of the day, and by that evening you really couldn't tell anything was ever wrong with her. I have no idea how that little bird could have knocked that birdbath over on herself, perfectly, to cover up her body completely, but what is even more bizarre is that that she survived being under that ceramic birdbath top for 60 hours in the blazing heat and direct sunlight. 

    We have now saved this bird's life twice in the last 14 weeks, and I have decided that she is like a cat but with thirteen lives instead of nine. Well, 11..... She's down to 11 now, and lets hope she stays there. I can't handle the stress of saving her again or being without her.

Reflect, Redirect and Reset... Coming Out of Covid

In these past few months of Covid-19 I have lived a whole other life, like any other life, parts of it have been amazing, parts of it have been painful, and most of it I pray I will never experience again.


When this all started a dear friend of mine said "Use this time to workout, to keep on a schedule, and to come back a better version of yourself." I wanted to say I was going to be one of those people coming out of the Covid-19 debacle an enlightened person, one who was changed for the better, but that's just not how it was for me. I am coming out of it alive, but wounded, occasionally hyperventilating, and clinging to shreds of a life I once knew, much like Rose and Jack desperately clung to that door in the final scenes of The Titanic. (Which we all know could have held them both, but that's for a different conversation....)

Covid brought with it an uncertainty and an unknown that I have never experienced before, and it found me at a time when I was already questioning my life's direction anyway.

Then suddenly I found myself washing my hands 57 times a day, wearing a mask, standing 6-17' feet away from everyone, learning how to attend Zoom meetings, and side-eyeing anyone who sneezed or coughed within a 1 mile radius of me.

During this period I was furloughed from my job, and I spent 12 weeks-ish wondering and praying to any deity who would listen, to please let me have my job back. I spent countless hours worrying about my finances, and what I was going to do if I didn't get back to the job I loved, and for the most part, I did this silently because I didn't want to burden anyone else or look weak.

Then in order to forget my career concerns, I buried myself in another life, one that kept me busy, allowed me to resolve some things from my past, and where I will forever be grateful I was able to resolve that in my soul, I am absolutely jubilant to have permanently nailed that door shut after taking out the trash.

During this pandemic I have tested my relationships with friends and family, and where they were mostly supportive of my "come-apart" I know I have hurt people as I have unapologetically walked my walk.

Things have since gotten back to a semi-normal rhythm, but I still felt completely drained and emotionally beat to hell, and I know myself well enough to know I needed a reset. I needed to sit, to be quiet, and simply think. Even though not all the changes that resulted from Covid-19 were bad, and some of them were long overdue, any change, even for the better, can be difficult when the rest of the world/your life is changing so rapidly around it.  Therefore, two weeks ago I booked a self-isolating trip to Maine. I needed to visit Maine in order to research my current book, and I could think of no better way to quarantine than by staying in a rustic cabin in the woods away from everything and everybody. It would give me plenty of time and space to reflect, redirect, and reset.

I can tell you a "reset" is exactly what I needed. I needed to be away from the world, to sleep outside, and to get lost in nature. I needed to walk barefoot so I could feel the earth, to swim in a lake, and to hike the mountain. I needed to get lost in order to be found again. I guess that is enlightenment.....

Next Best Thing to Heaven

At the end of my life, I don't want to look back on things and say: "I wish I would have done that."
I don't want to look back and realize I missed out on the simple things in life.
I have always wanted to sleep outside, but not in a tent.
The practical part of my brain always dissuades the part of my brain that's still 10 years old from trying this because Ohio is full of mosquitoes, and both parts of my brain agree they hate those blood suckers, therefore it's never happened.
Until tonight.....

It's currently 58 degrees tonight in Maine, and there are virtually no bugs out right now.
This paired with the fact we have access to a screened in porch?

The perfect sleeping weather, and outside!
Not in a tent.

To hear the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore line, while the trees dance in unison above our heads. The fragrant smell of pine trees and smoke from the fire drifting about us.

Maine has to be the next best thing to Heaven....
My guess is I will sleep better tonight than I have in years!

Thirteen

I have not had chicks for over 4 years here On the Urban Farm, but if you know me, you know I absolutely adore chickens! One of the things I missed the most about being at Pony Girl’s farm was the chickens her daughter and I had together. So yesterday, I ordered chickens to have at my house. 

I was supposed to pick them up from the hatchery at the end of September, and I was super excited for the fall to get here, so I could be back in the business of owning chickens again, and then The Nurse and I went to the local farm store today to pick up vegetable plants for our garden tonight , and I was surprised by all the chicks they had available for purchase.

Upon looking closer at the chickens, most of the pens had no water in them, there were chickens that had been trampled to death by the overcrowding, and a lot of the babies had Pasty Butt from the stress and standing in wet bedding. 

The Nurse and I decided to just buy our 12 chickens here, and be done with it. After waiting for over 20 minutes, with no store associate to assist us, even though we had asked 3 different people to help us, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was loading my babies into boxes when some young girl came up and said: " Seriously, no one has touched these chickens since I left at 2 pm!" She and I went on to discuss the fact she was a store employee and the fact that no water, and dying birds was common practice for this store, and she explained she was appalled. By this time I had already loaded my 12 chicks and was getting ready to make my escape to the cash register, when I looked down and in the last pen was 2 very big chicks and 1 insanely small chick. I explained to the employee that the smaller chick had Pasty Butt, and if they didn't treat it, the poor bird would be dead by tomorrow morning.

The young employee in a hurried, hushed tone, said, "Just take that one with you. If it dies, we don't get paid anyways." So, I snuck the small bird into the box with the others and decided to take her home with me. We have her all cleaned up, but she is SO small. She is trying to eat and drink, however we've had to resort to grinding up her food because she just can't handle the normal sizes of chicken crumble. 

I know chickens are a farm animal.

I know she may not live through the night.

However, I'm a firm believer that sometimes, all we need is the chance.

Meet Thirteen.

Hopefully given the chance, she will be okay.

I will keep you posted on her progress.....

I'm Majestic and You're a Narcissistic Ass

My head has known the entire time that you were not good for me, that you were going to hurt me again, and everyone warned me to walk away from you.
Most people told me to run.
But, my heart wanted to believe in you.

My heart wanted to believe you were the person you said you were, that you were the victim you claimed to be.
It wanted me to trust you.
However, after riding this ride with you yet again, I am now reminded just how wrong I was about you then and am now.
I'm not sorry for the time we've spent together as friends over the last 3 months.
I have relished the time we've spent together with kids, horses, laughter, and adventure.
I haven't, for one minute, regretted supporting you through a progressive disease that will continue to rob you of your ability to live your normal life.
And truthfully, I would sacrifice it all over again, because that's what you do when you love someone....

I'm not sure you have the capacity to love anyone the way you expect to be loved in return.

But, I have given you everything I have, and with no condition.
I hope one day you will realize I did truly care for you.
I promise you will miss me being there, putting up with you, and refusing to give up on you.
You're going to regret everything you've done to me, including all the damage and pain that you've caused, and lies that you've told.
Someday, you'll look back and wish things could be different.
I might have been worthless to you, but that's okay because I am of great value to myself.

In all honesty, a friendship would have never worked between us.
I'm a unicorn, and you're a donkey.
I'm majestic, and you my darling, are a narcissistic ass....

It's time.....

This holiday season had me in a funk.
I wasn't festive, and try as I might, I just could not get into the holiday spirit.
Instead this year, I felt a deep yearning to just simplify.
I really felt wrapped up in the commercialization of it all, therefore I really just wanted Christmas to go away.
This year, I wanted New Years.
I want the fresh start, the possibility of 366 (Leap year!) days before me.

2018 nearly broke me.
2019 allowed me to breathe, but I still felt somewhat lost from 2018.
2020, I'm looking forward to purging and decluttering my body, mind, and finding my rhythm again.

I'm not proclaiming just one resolution this year.
I'm going bigger!
I'm going whole lifestyle change.

Here's to finishing my book, packing my lunch, discontinuing my nail biting habit, not spending money in the gift shop at work, writing everyday, purging my house, setting and sticking with a schedule, loving more, judging less, saying yes, reading more, going to church on Sundays, getting up earlier, going to bed earlier, making a budget and sticking to it, eating better, exercising more, and cussing less.

My plan is to reclaim me in 2020.....
It's time!

Saying Goodbye...

Rascal (Roo) was The Nurse's dog before we met, and he came to her as a puppy 12 years ago. Best we can tell, he is a labrador retriever-husky mix, with his jovial personality, the shedding of hair like glitter at a drag show, and his boisterous bark that regularly reverberates the walls of our house. 

We have been suspecting the day to say goodbye would be coming for quite some time now, as Roo has been fading recently. Not wanting to eat, sleeping more, and due to a 4/5 heart murmur, he is now having difficulty breathing. 

Every good life deserves a fair death, and where the loss of this guy is going to leave a hole the size of Montana in our hearts, we know the fair thing to do is to say goodbye. 

Say a prayer, light a candle for our family today as we say goodbye to the happiest dog on the planet.

We'll see you at the bridge, Roo where you'll be waiting for us with a wagging tail and exuberant barking...