The Price of Love

For many of you who read my blog and posts in FB you know this amazing guy as "Sherlock" my all grown up bottle boy who is a kind, proud and very attached to me Cashmere billie.  He is father to many of my best here and comes from the most impressive and loving male who lived here "Thor".  Sherlock loves to lick my neck if I sit down, talks and walks with me all over the farm while I do chores.  I would have never believed that I could be so connected to a animal as I am with him.

Lately, I have let him out of the fenced pastures and gates to go nibble down the driveway weeds, select some mint that is like candy to him and just spend some time away for all the pee faced young men.  So  Sunday evening I heard on the TV that a storm was moving into Colorado later that evening and I realized I better get the business packages down to the mail box before the weather turned cold.

Slipped on my shoes, grabbed the packages and out the shop door I went.  It was already dark but still not that cold.  I sprinted out the door and down the driveway I went.  I was about 3/4 the way to the box when it hit me - BOY it is getting cold quick.  I put the packages in the box and walked a bit quicker on the way back to the house.  About half way there I realized I heard some movement in the tall grass and saw a shadow.   I saw out of the corner of my eye it was a coyote shadowing me.  I was not worried just keeping present with it's movement and then out of the glow from the barn light in the distance I could see this fast dark shadow running towards me.  I could hear a faint call in the cold crisp air - it was SHERLOCK to my rescue.

To see this big fellow RUNNING... WOW Sherlock is not a runner unless he feels it is really required.  He passed me with such speed and determination and that Coyote took off running to the forest like his butt was on fire.  I whistled and Sophia started barking which sent the Coyote farther into the woods.  I called out Sherlock's name and he stopped, turned and walked back to me. With those massive horns he has a swagger and I love seeing him do that - that is his happy walk/

He took his large horns and wrapped them around my knee's.  I stroked his forehead and he spoke softly back to me.  We slowly started walking back to the house as he kept talking softly.  I walked him through the big gates and then bent down and hugged the pieces out of him.  I am one lucky gal to have such a friend, protector and champion.

Now on the down side.  This gal was only going to the mailbox so I had my silk Long Johns on which was going to be my PJ's for this chilly night, my lovely socks on to keep my toes warm at night and my favorite snuggle sweater that was to cover my aching back as the temp's dropped.  Scrap all that because now every inch of them and my goose bumped body smelled like a big billie.  I guess a small price to pay for such love and protection. Hate to admit this gal crawled into bed with freshly washed jeans and a sweatshirt - looked more like I was going to clean a barn or dig a ditch but lucky for me I do not need to impress anyone in bed.

Typical MONDAY for Grace

I know you will not believe me but this is my life.  In the early am I heard the mouse trap snap and this gal on the way to make a cup of tea threw the dead mouse out the kitchen door into the cold dark mourn. I flung it with such skill and purpose that it easily sailed through the cold air easily over 40 feet.  As I crawled back into bed and tried for sleep about an hour or so later something told me "Wake up Grace and Check"  I looked out the bedroom curtain and the fog was thick as soup I could not get a clear view of the sweet ones.

Down the stairs I drug myself, into the chore clothes and out the kitchen door this gal went.  Now last time this thick fog was at the farm I got ran over by my Dot (the Llama) as he was trying to find me in the white weather curtain.  So as I reached the last step and placed my foot on the frozen hard ground I made sure he was far away.  I then with the other foot stepped onto something hard, slick and SHIT - down I went... Yep, Graceful Grace looked like those folks who slip on a banana peel.  In slow motion I hit my back, butt and coconut - almost knocking myself out.  I quickly rolled to get to my knees because here came Dot at a full run to help me and trust me I did not want any more PAIN if he was unable to stop on this slippery ground...

I got up and now felt like the cartoon gal with the stars and birdies flying around my head.  I stood till I could walk forward.  I walked slowly and checked on each animal in the fog all the while wondering what in the heck did I slip on.  When I got back to the steps you would not believe what this gal slipped on - THE FROZEN DEAD MOUSE ...

How could this be?  I threw that sucker an easy 40 feet away so what in the heck brought it back to the house???  Was someone in the universe trying to tell me something??  OH FORGET the questions - there is not going to be an inch of this gal that is not going to be hurting big time.

I went up the stairs into the house and I admit it I turned into a puddle for a moment and cried and then was so pissed off - SERIOUSLY - SLIP ON A DEAD MOUSE...  There has to be something way wrong with the universe to do this to me...

So if anyone can tell me the cosmic purpose of this event I sure would appreciate it... I am SO DONE....

My middle name is BALL BUSTER

It has been a bit since I wrote last but I have not been standing around peeing on myself - unlike so many here at the farm.....

Half of my farm is smelly, sticky and in a all out fighting mood... O.K. Maybe I am like that!!!

Dealing with boy goats in rut season has it's moments and issues but this gal is not new to the rodeo.  Trust me at times it is like deal with bucking bronco's or in a bull fighting ring.  I have had two break outs of hormonally challenged guys in the past 5 days and as the phrase comes to mind "Herding Cats" that can be what I am facing when you are also having hormonally challenged goat girls sticking their butts through fencing or calling from the locked barn.  I can not blame any of them because it is what keeps their blood lines alive but I again am not planning to breed anyone.  Before the eye rolling starts I know I have two babies that where complete surprises to all here but I work my best not to have any.

So with all my bag of tricks that I have gathered from 17 years of hormonal issues, a great farm layout that helps in this uncontrolled running and running that can happen on 35 acres and the understanding that this is all part of the deal I have made - at least for today.

This would make a great chapter or two in the book everyone states I should write and I think I might call it - "How NOT to think with you Private Parts" Who knows it might also work for the two legged hormonally challenged.  I won't bore you all with all the ways I do this (at least not for now unless someone has specific issues that need addressing) but I will say the day I can not out think them is the day I know my brain has failed me.

I will talk about the second event where I had all the 3 and 4 year old out and they ran me more then I liked but also their behavior needed some retraining.  Now before everyone gets all hot and bothered this is how in nature this would occure so trust me I follow Mother Nature in almost all I do.  Once I got the 3 and 4 year old back into their pen I went to work on their retraining.  The girls while I was working on getting the boys back were locked into their barn.  I turn on the radio in the barn loudly which makes them sit down and shut up.  See it is really hard to get the boys to listen to me if those gals are calling them.  Next, I put up the hens and shut their doors because running billies do not care if they step on little feather girls.  Then I followed by wiring shut gates that normally just use their latches because trust me 9 billies can break that if they wish.  Then I went into the house, went to the ladies room, put on heavier clothes and the serious gloves - left the CD player in the house and got ready to rumble.

I then centered myself and let the retraining begin.  What the young billies did not realize is I have enforcement team.  I whistled to the dogs and they got out of their nap time and anchored their spots.  I talked with Llama Boy and Dot about watching my back.  So once after getting them into their pen I stood in the center and started running them.  Hand signals and whistles got them to move in the directions I wanted - they knew this but again hormones get in the way.  I ran them through this over and over and over - almost an hour.  They were getting tired and wanting me to stop but just when that point happened I ran them again.  Then I stood and they came over as if to say "Mom, we get it" but this gal is not done.

Just when they thought the lesson was over I walked over to the next pasture (which houses the older breeding billies) and opened the gate.  I whistled and they walked nicely in.  I shut the gate and wired it shut.  The young guys looked at me like "What is wrong Mom, did you know you wired the gate?" - just then I whistled and out of nowhere the big guys appeared.  You should have seen the young boys faces - eyes bugged and they started calling to me...  Yes, Monk started making short work of the young ones.  No, I am not wishing anyone to be hurt but they really needed their life lessons.  I went and got a chair and sat there as I watched over the retraining.  I know my big guys and if someone got a bit too aggressive all I had to do was call their name and they eased off a bit but not letting up until all figured it out. 

I checked on everyone through the night to make sure all was well and each time I came out the young one's asked to go back to their pen but the answer is NO...

It has been two days and the ranking is restored and they now know who REALLY does have the BIG BALLS at the farm.  When I walked into the pen today all remembered it is THIS GAL WHO WEARS THE PANTS AND CAN BUST YOUR BALLS IF YOU FORGET THE RULES...