Take it Away! I Don't Want it Anymore!

I swear, spring needs to come NOW!

Yeah, Yeah I know! We live in Colorado. It snows, its cold, and where we live the wind can be torture. And yes, I do know we have three more months of winter left as dictated by the calendar. And do you know what?

I really, really, really (did I stress really enough?) DO NOT care!!! I am begging. Pleading even. Just work with me this one time. Please!

As I said already, spring needs to come to our house NOW before I lose my ever-loving mind.

Why you may ask? Everyone is going crazy, literally! Being cooped up is causing everyone to be a little on edge. Just a little...

The pigeons are going to kill me one of these days. I'm serious. I hate those stupid birds. I can't stand trying to catch them or clean their coop. It really isn't their fault. Years and years of raising baby chicks in feed stores has conditioned me to detest birds of any kind. I think they are neat to watch, with all of their different colors and patterns. They hang out on the roof of the dog kennel or shop, in the driveway or select parts of the pasture. It is pretty neat when they all decide to get their daily exercise as they make laps around the property as a big group and its fun to watch Jake work Ruger on them. Actually it is really fun...then they get a little scared of you again. They get caught, get shoved into a little box, have a big dog point them intently waiting to "get the bird" and then get released and have to fly away in a frenzy before said dog catches them. They probably dread it when we lock them in so we can catch them. I kind of wonder what their thoughts are on the whole experience. But that is their job and really the only reason we keep them around.

However, I can not stand to feed the little boogers. They only get fed at night for two reasons. One, it makes them all come into the coop so that no one becomes wild animal bait and two, pigeons can easily become overweight as we found out after we inquired them so we have to monitor their daily intake. When you open the doors to the building, you can hear them getting excited. Usually they are super quiet in the dark, finding a roosting spot and just chillin', but when they know dinner is about to be served, it is a completely different story. They have three food containers and their waterer on the floor of the coop and the instant the inner door opens there is mass hysteria as they all attack their metal tubs. They don't even let you in the room before they attack. When 40, 60 or who know how many birds come at you at once for the can of food that you are holding, they are no longer small birds. They turn into one massive, hungry attacking bird. So, I have developed a method for feeding them: Sara is terrified out of her britches feeding method. Step 1: open door to crazy animals. Step 2: with food container in hand, step into room with one foot while be cautions to cover the half of your body in the room from the flying frenzy. Step 3: Fling food at the containers. Step 4: praise yourself for not getting killed and making a few small pieces of food in the metal containers. Lately with such cold weather, the birds are extra hungry which equates to extra crazy. They also have not been worked in months with equates to extremely confident with me going in the coop. Everyday I hope that Jake makes it home before I have a chance to do chores so I can avoid the insanity. It works sometimes, until he catches on to my strategy. Then I think I'm in for a rebellion...

The cats are the only good "kids" these days. Daisy ventures out and about only coming in to get fed during chore time. Then there are the babies. Socks and Sylvester, who is barely alive how I don't know. The poor cat only has five lives left and he's only eight months old. We felt bad of the cats because we got rid of the trash in the dog kennel that they were using as a bed. So, we took pity on them and gave them a old dog bed that Ruger had shredded on one end. And we are thanked....every second of everyday. They never leave the bed EVER. You feed in the morning, they are sleeping in the bed. You work outside during the day, they are sleeping in the bed. You feed at night, they are sleeping in the bed. I guess I shouldn't wonder why they are so obese they can barely walk. But they still share mice with me, so I guess I won't make them do cat aerobics... just yet.

Then there are the big crazies. Peaches and Roz have a love-hate relationship. You would think that two horses that have been together for four years would have established a pecking order and by now at least be okay with that fact. Not at our house. They love each other during the day. They hang out. They mosey around the pasture together. They play together. But when it is time to eat, the gloves are off. Roz is the fatty of the group besides being the alpha mare. I don't think she realizes that she is the fatty. We feed her first allowing the fatty, alpha mare feel special and keep Peaches alive another day. The only problem is the second Roz gets done she has to stand by and watch Peaches eat her food painfully slow. It even hurts me to watch her eat so slow. But wait, Roz had a plan. If she can't eat, no one can. So, as soon as she finishes her grain, she will kick at Peaches through the stall panels. Peaches freaks out and instantly gets mad and procceds to take her anger out on innocent Chex. Poor little guy, all he wants is to eat his food in peace.

After about a week of Roz's game, she actually kicked the side of the stall panel off. Thankfully, no one was hurt beside Roz being just a little more jumpy than normal. Reluctantly, we decide Chex is going to live in between the girls. I knew I was setting him up to get murdered but we had to do something. So we put Peaches in the end stall first, followed by Chex in the middle. Roz went over and stood by Peaches and refused to go to her stall until she was made to by force. She then looked over Chex and whinnied at Peaches, wondering why her buddy was so far away. Everyone has ate in peace for a week. Roz still pouts when she realizes her friend isn't eating beside her. But the second they are let out, Roz pins her ears and chases Peaches away from the hay pile. I swear, girls.

I keep telling them they better mellow out because work time is coming soon. I keep telling them they better enjoy their free time before we start riding again soon. They don't seem to listen so I am pleading to the weather. Weather, become nice now before I don't have any horses left to work when you do decide to cooperate.

Do you feel symapthy for me yet?

Can you feel my desperation?

But that isn't all. Oh, yes it gets worse.

Bailey is going to cause the boys to have an all out fist fight pretty soon. Bailey hasn't come into heat for probably close to two years now. It really is nice that I don't have to worry about the two boys hanging out with her. However, I think she still gives off phermones around the times she is technically supposed to cycle. It is going to make the boys go crazy. Zip becomes on edge and gets really aggressive towards Ruger, who thinks Zip is growling to get him to play and is completely oblivious to the fact that he is about to get his butt kicked hardcore. I have come to the conclusion that Zip and Roz were created from the same mold. Those two can be so much trouble.

Normally during cold weather we let Bailey decide if she wants to spend the day outside or in the shop due to her bad hips we don't like to make her more sore. The other day I forced her to go outside and get alittle sun for a change. Still being the spoiled little girl that she is, she got to hang out instead of being put in the kennels like the boys. Zip and Ruger hate the fact that she can go where she pleases and are not shy about voicing their disapproval. So, thanks to my lovely little brother that spent a whole weekend teaching her to bark on command, she joins in and creates even more ruckus. Besides causing Makenzie to tell you that they are giving her a headache, they are completely ignored. Until last Saturday that is...

I went to the kitchen to get Kenzie another sippy cup refill and look out the window to see the boys standing at the fence facing each other. Cussing to myself, I open the front door to yell at them to stop whatever it is that they are doing. Zip gets down and Ruger just stayed there standing at the fence. Okay, that's weird...he is usually more obedient than that. So I throw shoes on and head outside in my t-shirt and shorts to see what his deal is. I get down to the kennel and Ruger had shoved his foot and about two inches of his leg past his ankle between the two metal post that hold the kennels together. Now he isn't a big Shorthair by any means but he has enormous feet. All I see is blood and Ruger is completely quiet. No wimpering is a bad sign. That means he is scared out of his mind. I try to push his leg back through and it doesn't budge.

Ruger hates to be in the kennel when you are getting home. He is strong enough that he can stand at the back of his kennel and get enough speed that when he runs at the gate and jumps on it he can move the latch with the snow and get out. Well, we tied his door shut with baling twine to teach him not to do that and I guess we tried again. I don't think that was the result he was going for. I don't even now how he managed to wedge his leg in there. I can't imagine how fast he was running and how hard he hit that gate in order to accomplish that task. I don't even want to think about how long he was standing like that before I happened to go and see what they were making a commotion about.

I run up to the shop in a hurry. All I can think about is that Ruger has just broken his leg and how I am going to get him unstuck. I grab a ratchet and race back down to the kennel. After about 20 minutes of trying to get frozen bolts to budge while helping Ruger brace himself since I had to open the door and he is trying to put his head in my lap to be comforted I finally get it loosened up enough to squeeze his leg back thru. Ruger hobbles towards the shop barely toe touching. His foot was already starting to swell so I couldn't get an accurate assessment on the damage. I wrap his leg and let him sleep in the shop until chore time. Chores go uneventfully for a change that night. I unwrap Ruger's leg and it looks the same so I just rewrapped it and crossed my fingers that he would leave it alone until moring.

The next morning, we all head out to do chores. Ruger's foot was swollen but he was putting pressure on his leg which was a great sign! Ruger was doing his typical 15 minute crap in 16 different spots. When all of a sudden he starts racing down the one side of the property and we realize he doesn't have his hunting collar on which is not a good sign that he is going to come back right away. Zip goes chasing after him. Then we figure out what is going on. They are chasing an antelope! They run the antelope over to the herd of about 30 in the field across the gravel road. Ruger stands out there pointing the antelope while Zip herds them into a little circle. Neither of them would call off. So we waited while Zip held them. Finally he let them break and they ran across the road all but one, which Zip ran over to be with its buddies. Zip was so proud of himself and he had so much fun playing. I guess it is good to see how much natural herding ability he has. I tried telling him that they don't have antelope herding trials so he can leave them be. But then again, we do have a Ruger that thought they were point worthy so I guess anything is possible.

That night Ruger's foot is the size of a bear's paw. There was no swelling up his leg due to my amazingly professional wrapping skills. Gotta give props to the horses for acquiring that skill! We finally get a good look at his leg. He has a gash on the bone about two inches long. Thankfully he didn't hurt himself worse with the whole ordeal. Now a couple of days later, his leg is almost completely healed up and you can hardly tell that he got hung up at all. And it looks like he will survive to hunt another day.

I keep telling the boys that as soon as the days get longer we are going to start playing a lot more. I keep threatening that they may not be "boys" much longer if they keep up the trouble. I am actually looking forward to the longer days to get the agility course out and really put them to work mentally and physically. So come on weather...let's go.

Now are you starting to understand? Are you catching on to my desperation? I'm getting way to anxious for all of the things I can do once the sun decides to stay in the sky just a few more hours each day. I am sick of the snow that has been on the ground for three weeks now. I am willing to beg and plead and have happy thoughts. I will jump up and down while patting my belly and rubbing my head if that is what it is going to take. Just take it away...I don't want it anymore. Is that too much to ask?