After months of silence, Bunny has found his voice. At exactly 7:46 AM Eastern, he crowed. And then you couldn't shut him up. This has rattled Pecito no end. I do believe he thought he was the one and only.
Juno and I have worked our way into an odd, although rather comforting, routine. It's like dealing with a baby but no diapers. I leave the gate open to the barn during the night so that she will have company - Apria is her boon companion. Then it's her morning molasses drench, followed by some physical therapy, then special hay, then fill her water container. I've been giving both Apria and Juno grain in the morning - when I finally got my hands on Apria, she felt rather thin under her woolies. This has chafed Norman, who lives and breathes for grain. Tough nuggets. After duck chores, and before I get ready for work, I toddle back to the barn and open the gate so everyone can socialize. At night - rinse, wash, repeat. I am not holding out much hope that she will get up on her pins and walk again. It's been a week and, although I do my best in the little time I have to keep her limbs flexible, she shows no signs of leg strength. Although I am firmly entrenched in denial at the moment, I know this can't go on indefinitely.
My boy, Scrappy, suddenly decided that he did not care for a raw diet. Just like that. First time EVER that he wouldn't eat his breakfast. This, of course, sent me into a tailspin, as I thought the end was near. I tried tempting him with a variety of foods before, out of desperation, I gave him some of The Pepperoni's high-end, no-grain canned food. Bingo! So, now I have a freezer full of homemade and premade raw dog food and the one and only dog that really needed it won't eat it. Le sigh. Instead, he is inhaling two cans of primo dog food a day, at a cost of CHA-CHING. I've said it before, and I know I will say it ad nauseum - we are nothing, if not flexible. So The Pepperoni and Lovey are now on a raw diet, while the Little Prince is fed beef and spinach. Au jus. If it was at all possible, I would like to come back as one of my own dogs.
After giving us a hopeful weather forecast for three-plus days of rain and showers, the sun is out and shining. Looking forward to the weekend, I have decided to put some elasticity into my to-do list. This approach, of course, runs the risk of creating a pretty saggy* list. I have convinced myself that everything I do needs doing. Clear as mud? I do have a couple of must-dos, but everything else is pure serendipity.
*Speaking of saggy elastic, did I ever tell you about the time I walked right out of my underwear, crossing the main drag in Cleveland? I didn't? It was a clear-cut case of letting one's BGPs reach a dangerous point of sagginess. Luckily, I was young and flippant and kept on going without a backwards glance... And if I HAVE told you, humor me. I'm old and forget things.