We have upwards of 13 calves now. It is tricky trying to find, count, and match them to their cows when you are busy trying to catch and kill your dog. I keep hoping that they will eventually learn to come when they are called, but so far it has not happened. Belle and I are in a general spat right now. I am losing patience with her. A lot of this revolves around the puppies.
Sunday night, we were coming back from a calf cruise and we saw five puppies about 6 weeks old in the old field. That’s not close to anything, really. I still am not sure how they got way back there. We had left Belle and Dixie locked up in the trailer, but Tye was with us and he managed to run three of them off, but we managed to catch two of them. We drove up and down 105 a bit and asked a couple of neighbors if they knew anything and then we posted a note down at the gas station. We haven’t heard anything yet. So, we now have two extra puppies that we are trying to find a decent home for. There is no way we can take them now. Belle is not taking it well. She will not accept their presence and is starting to get fresh with me as well. She is locked in the room right now, because she is ignoring me. I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to do with her. She needs additional training, but with everything else going on, that isn’t very practical. She’ll probably get better when we find a new home for the pups, but that’s not the point.
It’s the third day of spring break and I have not accomplished near what I was hoping to. I guess that’s no surprise. We have spent more time on the puppies than what was planned, but there is also some recuperation from subbing. I didn’t know how exhausted I was. Yesterday, I did manage to ride Sarge. He needs more attention as well, but he is a good horse. He gave me a little bit of trouble when I rode past the barn and didn’t stop, but he never offered to buck. I will probably start feeding in the afternoon and riding when I get home from work.
I did promise the story of rat tractor and antler tire. The tractor just refused to start one day. I realized that I had left the lights on, so I tried jumping it. No joy. I drug it over to the house to hook up an all night battery charger to let it charge all night, although I didn’t have much hope. The voltmeter said that the battery was pushing 13 volts, but Dad figured it was worth a shot. So, I pull the tractor right up to the house, or at least Anna did, with me steering. I untied, jumped in the truck and drove off to get the charger from Grandmother. Thump, thump, down the camp road. It sounded like a flat. I hopped out and took a look. Sticking out of my back right tire was a deer antler. I knew this antler well. I had been carrying it along with me for years. I had offered it to Smokey as a chew toy, and had designs on the shank for a knife handle. In the move, it had come out of a box so I tossed it in the yard. Now, it is easy to look back on this and say, “Of course he ran over it,” but in the real world, you think you are going to remember it. In any event, I got the truck back, put a charge on the tractor, and waited for the morning.
The next day, the tractor still didn’t start. Anna had pointed out that Dixie seemed to be pretty obsessed with the tractor itself and that it was possible that a rat had gotten in there. Seemed reasonable. When we finally checked under the hood, there sure enough was a big rat’s nest. Dad called the mechanic and he managed to get the thing fixed with minimal cost.
The tire was not a real problem either. They used the warranty to cover it, so all it cost me was the warranty on the new tire. They were pretty excited about the whole thing down at the tire shop in Beaumont. I decided that it might be some fun if I left the antler in the tire. I know they would be talking about me, but I figured they would appreciate it. The guy who actually did the work said he was keeping it. To each his own.
Today, we are off to the house in Clear Lake to mow. We are really in a quandary and need your prayers for direction. Someone in the neighborhood with a similar house eventually sold it for about $20,000 less than what they were asking, and $17,000 less than what we are asking. Should we hold out somehow, or take the brutal hit and dramatically lower the price? There is no way to know. We can’t see the future, but God can. The tough part is hearing clearly what God is saying. That’s where we need prayer.
Well, I had better go. Please nag me about the blog, pray for our situation, and give these puppies a good home.
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