Never Enough Hours in the Day

This week is our annual inspection at work meaning a slew of people come crawling through our workspaces from the capital double checking everything off their little lists ( kind of like Santa except not in a nice way). So the uppity ups are all freaking out as usual. I get the much envied ( not) position of providing refreshments to these folks. My theory is that if there are enough calories and carbohydrates in their food that they will be semicomatose and happy. So no high pro for them. It's candy pizzas, chicken cordon bleu, home made onion rolls. I got FOUR phone calls this morning in the space of 30 minutes asking me if I had taken care of the COFFEE. Coffee for God's sake. I'm like yes I always do, (for the past 15 years). I should have said hell no, I'm bucking. Then they took my chief cook and bottle washer ( kidding about the bottle washer part) and had him painting the numbers on units today. That is a completely brilliant use of highly skilled kitchen labor.

Speaking of work I celebrated ( well that is much too excited of a word) 20 years on the job the first weekend of March.

Then today after all the craziness at work I got home and had a sick goat and sick sheep with scours. Oh fun. Went to the coop picked up some oxyterramycin ( probably misspelled that) and boluses of time released Albon in case its coccidia instead of enteritis. The ruminants had been penned up so at least I didn't have to do that but oh the JOY of struggling with two stinky beasts covered with liquishit ( a new word I made up for diarrhea) who do NOT want to swallow that huge bolus that might make them better. No, I do not have a bolus gun that you can shove down their throat but believe me I will before the next time I try this. I make a couple of grabs finally snagging one, loop a noose over its neck, straddle it squeeze hard with knees, left hand squeezes mouth and pulls it open, right one shoves bolus in as far as possible while watching in amazement as the bolus is forcibly ejected from the side of the animals' mouth. Well crap start over, and over and over. Finally I have my gloved hand halfway down the throat tilting the head back as far as I can leaning over to the water trough and slopping water in its mouth with my gloved right hand. Eventually after about 5 ejections of the bolus it went down. Now for the next one. Same trick. These are supposed to work for 3 days. I have to go to work at 4 am the next three days so I sure hope these critters get better. I may not be Mary Poppins if I have to do this again

Vacations

When I was in my late twenties and throughout most of my thirties my idea of a vacation was hot sand,turquoise water and tropical drinks. I just knew that Florida was the place of my future. Then the last weekend of 2001 I spent several days in New Mexico. Now I "jones" for the desert from the time I am driving back from it. Of course its not only NM, I love WY too ( and I suspect I'd feel the same way about similar places in AZ, NV etc.). I'd love to move but the thought of moving all the animals, and myself and finding a different job after 20 years is rather daunting. Still the thoughts come, and they linger and peek around the corner all the time. I constantly websurf properties in various places out there, and I'm examining what kind of work might be there, but I'm afraid there would have to be another catalyst right now for me to bug out of my job after 20 years. So I content myself with my malcontent for the moment.

Hobby

Everybody needs one, mine is this "dog thing". Since 1985 I've owned Borzoi, 99% of the time they bring me great joy, the other 1% of the time would probably be the grief of losing one although when it happens it seems like a never ending thing. The people in the sport however are another story. I have to say I have made some very dear and precious friends over the last 23 years, people that I would wade through a swamp for, and who I think feel the same way about me, but lately there has been one that seems to have taken on blaming everything that can possibly go wrong with a dog with me. I have now been given the power to cause a dog to get cancer by this person in addition to in their words treat all my dogs like &^%$ and feed them garbage. Now, I'm not sure how they think I am able to compete and do pretty well with my poor malnourished , mistreated dogs when everyone else is doing so right by theirs. Guess I must just have magic powers.
Sigh.....
Wish I did, I bet you can guess what I'd do.

Last Sunday

was my daughter in laws birthday so I drove to Nashville to celebrate it with my only child, his wife and her family. It was such a glorious day (75 plus degrees and sunny) that I decided to drive most of it off the interstate on a state route taking me through a number of smaller communities. I was headed down a hill on the other side of Smithville when I saw this brilliant orange just on the side of the road next the concrete curb. For a second I thought it was a fox but no it was a beautiful orange Pomeranian. It was sitting next to the curb just on the very edge of the pavement with its back to the road looking up at the 25 or so foot rocky embankment that bordered the grass. I thought geeze I am running late I'm not stopping so I passed the dog, and managed to get all of 100 yards before I did a U turn came back up the hill did another U turn and parked in front of the Pom. At this point it is laying down, I get out of the car (there is actually a paved shoulder since this is a fairly steep hill) and walk over, I see some blood on its rear feet but no dirt, no grime no blood or body fluids coming out of any orifice. I speak to the dog it looks at me, I reach down and pet it. It is panting slightly, its fur feels like orange silk. This is someone's very very well cared for little dog. Something is obviously wrong or it would be getting up. I say to the little dog, "I hope I don't hurt you by picking you up but I need to get you off this road, I don't know any other way to do it." I grabbed the dog firmly behind its ears across its neck with my right hand and put my left hand under its front legs and pick it up. That's when I see the rear legs are broken. Both of them. The right one is a closed fracture but the left one is open, that's where the blood is from but it isn't squirting, just a little ooze, dog has very little blood anywhere on it just around the wound and where the other legs have touched it. Dog isn't complaining, I walk over to the grass and set it down. Then it cries out and squeaks tries to stand, it can and does move those legs but of course they are useless broken right at the hock almost on both sides. What in hell am I gonna do? Jesus, there is a driveway leading up the embankment behind me about 100 yards and another one about 100 yards in the other direction leading up it. I'm petting the dog again. I look at its gums, good color, I press them and the color comes back really quick. When I had it up I had looked at its belly and there is no bruising , no discoloration on the stomach, no grime or dirt or anything that would indicate a car crushed it. The stomach is not rigid and there is no discharge from its anus or vulva or anywhere else. While I'm running all this through my head trying to decide whether to take the dog with me and try and find an emergency clinic, or to go door to door and look for an owner, I see blue lights. Well, great, let no good deed go unpunished, I am parked in a bad place on this mostly deserted state highway, now Barney has caught me and I'm gonna get a ticket. He pulls up next to me in the big police cruiser but he is still across the lane, I see his lips moving but I can't hear a damn word he says due to the engine noise and his radio. I hold my hand to my ear and shake my head so up the road he goes, does a Uturn and parks behind me. He gets out, I look up and despite having my lips pressed together like grim death it isn't completely working my eyes are leaking over this dog I don't even know. "This little dog is injured, I am not really sure what to do but it can't just be left here."
"Where did you find it?"
"It was sitting next to the curb and I thought it might be lost so I would stop and look for its collar, but it doesn't have one and it's hurt. This is somebody's housepet, it is completely clean and spotless. Someone is missing this dog." Of course this is said between wiping my eyes.
The trooper is about my age maybe a little younger, I'm not apologizing for what I'm doing or where I'm parked. He looks at me a second and says, "There's a driveway right up there where I turned around. Stay here I'll go see if it is there dog." Off he goes. Several minutes later he comes back, "No one home". I said, "There's another driveway just past this bluff here could you check and see if it might be theirs?"
"Sure thing", off he goes.
In the meantime I go to my car find a sheet and spread it over the backseat, I hope my family is going to forgive me for missing this birthday but I can't leave this little dog (Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away I had a Pom, he was charming and I have a soft spot for them, maybe when I am a very old dog lady I'll have another one). The County Mounty is back, he gets out, "The dog belongs to those people, and the man is on his way." Praise God. Pickup truck pulls behind the trooper and an elderly man a bit taller than I walks up, I tell him what I can about the dog, that it looks like her back legs are both broke. He says, "I have never known her to go down the driveway." I said, "I'm not convinced she didn't fall off that bluff right there because she was at the foot of it looking up at it when I pulled up and there isn't any blood anywhere." I picked the little dog up again and placed her in her owner's arms. I turned and left and said a wordless prayer that her owner finds her a good emergency vet as that was his stated intent. I've done all I can do.
Sometimes I think the well of human decency is just about dry or at least the well that I get to see. While I am not going to say it is overflowing, Sunday March 2nd, that Smith county trooper did his part to pour a pitcher of it back in.