DD 12/11

It’s wet with a capital ‘W’!

This morning I got to thinking about turkeys.  Quite alien to me considering we don’t really have wild turkeys to the same degree in Scotland.  We farm our turkeys much like chickens.  Turkey is our traditional Christmas feast so I really embrace Thanksgiving dinner as a practice run for Christmas dinner!

Our previous house was built on a steep slope so the deck at the back was level with copious numbers of trees and felt like you were part of a treehouse system.  On a very still evening, I noticed one of the trees had vibrating branches.  Only one.  There was no breeze and the other trees were unaffected.   Obviously this called for further investigation so off I went, down the hill to the bottom of the tree.  Naturally, by the time I got there, all movement had ceased.  Maybe not quite the stealthy approach I had imagined!  Inspecting the tree from the ground up, no marooned cat or any other critter to be seen.  

Later in the week, I was discussing my tremoring tree with a neighbor.  Nobody could possibly suggest I am short of thrilling conversation!  She casually mentioned that it was the turkeys.  Now I have seen the turkeys and their chicks and they were most definitely on the larger, slower more ponderous side of life.  The trees had at least ten feet of smooth trunks before the lower branches appeared.  To be polite, I nodded sagely and made a note to google turkey acrobatics and agility once I returned to the privacy of my home!

Lo and behold, they do roost in trees at night!  This I had to see with my own eyes.  Yes, I stalked my turkeys with all the stealth and grace that a large human with a flashlight possesses.  I came, I saw and I scared the bejesus out of my slumbering thunder chickens!  I had no idea that turkeys were airborne, flying fowl!  Armed with this knowledge, I know to not only watch out for land based attacks but also to be vigilant for airborne assaults!  Turkeys, built for survival and striking fear on land and in the air!

DD 12/10

It’s a touch icy underfoot!  We have an outreach visit at 10am.  Busy, busy just how we like it!

Just so we’re clear, the final two expressive arts, music and drama were both subject to my unique lack of skill.

I took piano lessons for a few years.  For what reason I really am not sure.  The poor lady teaching me was beyond accommodating, she taught me to read music most likely because that involved me not touching the keys!  I did have numerous scales to practice, at home!  My mother knew when I was slacking because of the lack of strangled sound emanating from the poor piano wires! We persevered far longer than necessary or healthy!

I cannot and will not sing.  It is impossible for me to hold anything resembling a note let alone a tune and I have no desire to inflict that amount of pain on unsuspecting animals.  Unfortunately, later in life, I was entrusted to prepare a class of six year olds for the centenary celebration of their school.  The theme was music through the decades.  We were assigned the sixties and the music teacher created a medley of popular sixties songs.  So far, so good!  My only responsibility was crowd control because this class consisted of a good number of children who had their own individual psychologists.  In other words, they were rather tricky and prone to outbursts!  I adored this class.  Did I mention that the musical instruction was the responsibility of the professionally trained music teacher?  Until it wasn’t.  She fell ill, I then felt far iller when I realized there was no back up and that the responsibility for the medley for the hotly anticipated centenary celebration fell to me.  Rising to the challenge and armed with the cassette tape of the music to sing along with, I started daily renditions of the required music.  I was exceptionally pleased with our dedication and progress…. 

I was selected to give a talk to teachers regarding the methods I used to engage,  motivate and suppress children with divergent behaviors in a classroom.  The Headteacher was delighted, this was quite the honor to be selected.  Me, not so much.  This did, however, relieve me from singing for a day!  The Headteacher was a proud member of her church choir and would step in to cover the activities.  I went, I saw, I talked about classroom organization and management of behavioral issues then returned to the school to prepare for the next day.  The HT met me at the entrance, flustered and displaying lots of handwringing.  Last time I left this class the substitute teacher had a knife ‘incident’.  I was sure no such thing could possibly occur with the HT firmly in charge?  Turns out, in her mind, it was far worse.  A catastrophe, a monumental disaster, we were doomed and beyond hope.  Oh dearie me, what could possibly be wrong?  Apparently, the day had gone quite splendidly, the class was well organized, independent in their routines and peaceable until the last thirty minutes swung round.  That thirty minutes had presented a traumatic event that overshadowed the whole day.  She asked them to run through their medley and what occurred caused so much offense to her aural tubes that she was all afluster.  Yes then knew the words, yes they were enthusiastically singing, the actions were joyful and faces gleeful…. The singing was flat.  Clearly this news was not received by me with the required amount of shock and horror.  I was still waiting for a cataclysmic revelation.  FLAT, FLAT, FLAT.  As in 2-D and not 3-D?  This would not do, she would need to take over their training to remedy this horrendous calamity.  I carefully schooled my face to display understanding and concern.  Inside relief and joy was bubbling while angels were singing in the most glorious flat and off key manner imaginable!  

I was relegated to set design as an area that even I couldn’t mess up.  Remember the orange, silly assumption to make!  I found a grandparent with artistic abilities and the time to help.  We were home and dry!

The singing practice was returned to my care with one caveat.  I was, under no circumstances to allow any sound to come out of my mouth.  In order to start the singing, I stood in front of the children, took an exaggerated deep breath in and opened my mouth and they then sang like angels!  Not one sound from me to derail their sweet voices!  When we progressed to on stage practice, the HT would wander in and give me the hairy eyeball to make sure not one sound passed my lips!

Our part of the concert was exuberant and a tremendous display of class unity and personalities.  I couldn’t tell you how they sounded because they always sounded good to me!

DD 12/9

Art class.  Still life to be precise but more akin to ‘still living?’ in my case.

Such a beautiful, serene setting.  The atmosphere calm and the voices low and soothing.  Alarm bells are ringing, this is not my usual environment nor vaguely close to my comfort zone.

The tables were all business, slanted towards you with a small ledge at the bottom.  Obviously, designed with snacking in mind, a handy, dandy ledge for snacks just incase they should be of the roly poly kind that would plop off the table.  Perfect, looking up already!

The instructor invited us to choose from an array of items on a side table.  I selected familiar and simple, an orange with an easy shape and color.  Job done!  We sat down at our assigned desk.  The lovely lady at the front started explaining shading, light and dark, creation of depth, texture….  It was lost to me, I wasn’t ready to cross the start line, my orange although simple just wouldn’t stay still.  I knew this wasn’t a study of motion, it was still life after all.  I had managed to select the orange with the possessed jumping bean in the middle!  I decided just to hold it for safe keeping just as the lovely lady was explaining the importance of the object staying in the same position for the duration of the assignment.

To add insult to injury, the medium of the day was charcoal.  I have an aversion to charcoal.  The scratching sound makes my ears bleed and that blending and smudging with your finger is not only extremely messy but it raises the hairs on my neck.  It’s up there with sand on a newspaper, spine chillingly awful.   

Also, I had lulled myself into a false sense of security.  My orange was not proving to be simple or straight forward and the ledge was not for snacks but for making sure the charcoal didn’t roll off the table.  Looks like the day decided to take a trip south!

Off we go, orange teetering on the top ledge, charcoal lurking on the bottom, paper wrinkling in the middle.  Let the count down begin.

A concentrated effort was applied.  It was roundish, the ‘shading’ didn’t enhance its roundness or anchor it to the paper.  It was a random orb, pock marked with some questionable bruising.  To add insult to injury, I was not allowed to color it orange.  That would have totally given the game away.  It was whitish, black and smudgy with black finger prints all over the remaining sheet of paper.  My finest offering!  I should confidently proclaim it to be channeling my inner Picasso with a touch of A Clock Work Orange.

Time was up.  I was down.  Another expressive art stuck off the list.  Painful experience all round but worse was to come.

Never compare your offering to others. For the greater good, I really don’t need to share my talents with the rest of the class.  And for the record, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it falls upon the beholder to be responsible for their facial expressions and temper them accordingly!

The learning and life lessons that I took away from one still life class were meaningful and varied.  I cannot draw, my eyes see one thing and my hand is, clearly in the other room making a sandwich which results in the translation from eyes to paper becoming distorted.  It is important to precede an artistic offering with, ‘I’m not much of an artist but you get the general gist of…..’ and hope for a sympathetic reaction!  It’s imperative to be able to identify your skills.  My kind of drawing is definitely not free hand and open to interpretation, it’s more of a graph paper, ruler, pencil and eraser style.  It’s even more effective if someone throws in a good number of co-ordinates for good measure along the lines of dot-to-dot or join the numbers!  Who says art isn’t powerful stuff?

Anyway, butchered another section of the arts what could possibly be left open to my interpretation?

Carlene is partaking in a highly motivated 4am walk through the halls of Hawthorne Hill.  She says this is all part of a very cunning plan because, for all intents and purposes, it looks like she is exercising.  She is actually going to the kitchen to procure extra sugars for her coffee!  She likes some coffee with her sugar!

DD12/8

SNOW!  First real snow of the season!

Art class.  Next attempt at gracious living for children.  Maybe we should just leave it here because we all know how this is going to unfold?  If you’d like me to share my hints and tips to ensure you are not extended a second invite to art class, let me know?

Did I mention it had snowed and is still snowing?  I love snow, Janine does not love snow so I best make myself scare and attempt to be useful.  I’ll be the one on camera moving with graceful feet and elegant arms, flitting and fluttering like a butterfly.

Oh how I make myself giggle!

DD 12/7

Happy Saturday!  It’s still dark with a touch of a red sunrise.  You know the saying, red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning!

People have asked how I ended up working with horses.  My path to equine bliss was not predetermined like Janine’s.  Mine came after a bunch of experiences that created a very strong aversion to the popular activities for young girls.

I was enrolled in ballet classes.  Sensible activity, my friends loved ballet and had all the gear in the required pink. 

I joined the happy throng of excited, pink clad pixies.  They were the epitome of lightness and grace.  Hair in neat buns, little wrap cardigans, outdoor shoes that were of the white and pink variety.  One girl even had a special bag to carry her satin ribboned ballet shoes.  It was in the shape of a rabbit face, a pink and white rabbit.  

Then there was me.  I was already experiencing a red alert moment.  This whole environment was feeling very alien to me.  I felt like the dull brown fish in a beautiful shoal of iridescent, choreographed and synchronized fish.  Everyone knew the routine with the exception of me!

The actual class was, I’m sure perfect but it did not compute with my brain.  We practiced raising our arms.  We were instructed to allow one arm to float, slowly like a butterfly while following it with our eyes.  I’m sure the charming lady meant, raise your arm in the air and wave it like you just don’t care.  It became apparent that my arms work with precision and speed.  It’s here, now it’s there and I would have watched it but it was so fast all I saw was a blur……

Next was essentially running in a circle.  That’s not what they call it in ballet class.  It’s called flouncing on tip toes.  I know this because I tried it and found it lacking and an inefficient use of my time and energy.  They added in arms to help them flutter.  Ehh?  Pumping arms make you go faster, all this fluttering…….

Moving on to the grand finale, standing in line with your feet making odd shapes.  Peculiar really that people feel the need to practice pointing the feet and making their heels touch then moving just one leg at a time.  I noticed my ribbon was coming undone and slowly slipping down my leg.  This did not go unappreciated!  Now I could twirl my foot and make the ribbons dance.  Such fun, until it’s not.  Those silky ribbons didn’t just exist to look pretty, they actually, quite efficiently held the delicate, satin shoe on the foot.  Well they would if they hadn’t undone.  The shoe left my foot, the class gasped and clearly this was an enormous faux pas.  Who knew one little shoe could relieve you of further tortuous ballet classes?

My mother was summoned after class and told that ballet really wasn’t in my future and not to bother bringing me back.  If that ballet teacher was anything, it was intuitive!

The ballet class went home looking as immaculate as when they arrived. I went home, face pink from exertion with a halo of hair sticking out in all directions.  A clear indication and validation of my lack of finesse and suitability for the world of pink precision!

DD 12/6

It’s a beautiful bright and crisp Friday with ample sunshine.  The sunshine is having no affect on the temperature!

I’m researching pigs.  There are so many pigs in rescue mainly, it appears, because people don’t realize that even ‘miniature’ in the pig world is gargantuan and turns like a Mack truck.

My only experience with pigs is on a farm on the Isle of Colonsay shouting ‘pig, pig, pig, pig, piggy’ and waiting to see the result.  It was impressive and rather daunting, two enormous, pinkish pigs came thundering over a hill and down to the gate where they, very fortunately, stopped.  Dinner was enthusiastically consumed and then they left without a backwards glance!  Pretty limited interaction and definitely not detailed enough to color a decision!

So porcine research abounds which will keep me busy and out of trouble!

DD 12/5

It’s Thursday and we have really pathetic snow!  Even Noodles, who embraces anything wet as a challenge to be had, was unenthusiastic.  

So much of what we do is weather dependent.  Each season brings challenges and benefits for us to capitalize and use to our advantage.  The one exception to the rule is mud.  I see absolutely no benefit to mud and believe me, I have tried!

We have one enormous paddock that is the proud owner of its very own underground spring.  Sounds idyllic and conjures up images of softly babbling brooks surrounded by lush, green grasses gently swaying in the gentle breeze.  Well our is a ravenous beast that doesn't actually break the surface preferring a stealth attack from under the ground.  Yes, it generates lush, green grasses but on closer inspection the surface is deep pock marks from horse’s feet.  Lying within the unctuous concoction are horse shoes, expensive horse shoes unceremoniously sucked from horses’s hooves by the evil substance.

The bipeds are not spared.  Rubber boots are sucked down by vacuum effect and leave you one legged with arms flailing in an attempt to balance.  Once a semblance of balance is gained, the tug-o-war with unseen forces can begin.  The trick is to wiggle the possessed boot until the vacuum seal is broken and then, gently, extract the boot and replace on foot.  It’s a well honed skill that can easily result in a filthy disaster if rushed.  Unfortunately, I speak knowledgeably on this matter!

The changes to the land due to weather are amplified on a farm.  The land, in its most natural and undisturbed state tells stories, should you choose to listen.  The underground spring in the paddock lay dormant this summer.  It either didn’t come close to the surface or the aquifer source has changed.  This was indicative of the water issues observed across both farms.  Dust, less lush paddocks and hay fields that only produced a first cut of hay when a second and potentially a third would have been possible in previous years.

This situation produces concern and dismay due to its far reaching consequences.  Water is our life source.  It’s an essential component in everything we do.  Hay prices soar and sourcing narrows.  We conserve water as best we can.  We scrub out troughs once a week instead of daily.  Seems counter productive but to scrub a water trough requires the dumping of useable water in the cleaning process.  We don’t fill troughs to the top instead calculate enough water for the animal’s requirements and top up twice a day.  This means, should we have a trough paddler, it’s a lesser amount of water to change.  We do have animals that like to bathe their feet!  We use nets to scoop out leaves and debris but those are ineffective against muddy water!  All animals need fresh, clean water it’s just some can’t resist the urge to paw it!

Here’s hoping for a wet, snowy winter season to replenish our resources.

DD 12/4

It’s Wednesday, beautifully bright but oh so cold!

Carlene’s requests for today, hot glue gun, two yellow rollers, two aqua rollers and somebody other than me to bring them to her!  Sounds good to me.  She’d clearly productively filling her time and is in good spirits since she’s worried about flat hair!  You know how it goes, idle hands and flat hair means we have trouble on our hands!😆

Given Carlene’s trepidation around leaving her home and spending some time in rehab, it really looks like it’s doing her some good.  Her whole demeanor is brighter, she’s far more active in a safe and supportive environment and, it appears, she’s regaining some lost independence!  Let’s be frank, she’s also in a climate controlled environment with flat surfaces and easy access facilities.  Eventually we can offer Carlene two out of the three because there’s no controlling the climate here with dogs and people in and out constantly!  I’m pretty sure she’d rather have the companionship and forgo the consistent climate!

So while Carlene is working on her mobility, we’re working on our general plans and some organization for the future.  Mary is returning home for a few days to attend some appointments so while she will be greatly missed, she’ll be back soon.  Kate is away for an extended weekend on a much deserved break with family and friends.  Ava will slot in to cover Kate which is wonderful.  Janine is, as usual, in Duracell bunny mode and the rest of us are trying to keep up.  I think she’s going even faster this weather because she detests the cold!

All good, all happy, moving in the right direction!  Although it must be noted, one of us has flat hair!

DD 12/3

Good morning!  We have a fresh and frosty start to Tuesday!

Change is good we are told yet change often strikes fear into the hearts of the most courageous of people!  I suppose we should really consider change to be inevitable and the creator of a new set of circumstances.

Change is the switch that causes a shift in our lives.  What change proves time and time again is just how adaptable we are as a species!  I suppose our survival instincts are programmed to be suspicious of changes and we therefore approach with caution and trepidation?

We try to mitigate the aspects of change that we can predict.  This lessens the impact and allows us to hit the road running or at a brisk walk or even heading the slow charge with a walker!  We get there, one way or another!  Most importantly, no animals will be harmed in the process!

So taking what we know to be approaching and the fact that change is inevitable, we have been planning for over a year as to how we need to adapt in the short, medium and long term.  This has caused us to really home in and identify exactly what we need Goldy’s to provide.  We know there are changes to be made, ideas to explore and develop and in order to achieve these successfully we need to sharpen our teamwork skills, keep the positivity topped up and sprinkle in a good amount of humor!

If we look like we’re off track or behind schedule, it was the goats.  I have decided that goats derail everything including best laid plans.

John Lennon sang the lyrics, ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’.  Who knew Lennon was a goat aficionado!

Let’s grasp the nettle and proceed henceforth!  Onwards, upwards, remembering the chicane!

DD 12/2

It’s Monday, it’s really cold but it’s the start of a new week!

Last part of Irie’s story to get us up to present day!

On arrival to MA, the rescues go straight to Meredith where we have our quarantine facilities set up ready to receive them.  We are exceptionally fortunate to be on Meredith because quarantine is tricky to accommodate on most farms.  I hold a certificate in Equine Bio Security which means I’m a real pain in the ass regarding containment and disinfection practices.  Our space, skills and willing volunteers mean that we are able to offer quarantine to other registered 501 c 3 organizations.  This in turn enables more rescues to leave the slaughter pipeline.  That is the reward for all the extra work!  Basic quarantine lasts for thirty day, costs around $1500 per equine no matter their size and requires a dedicated person for at least a minimum of twice a day visits. We provide our quarantine service with no charge to the other rescue.  It is of course funded by our fantastic donors, for whom we are exceptionally grateful!  Observation, sterilization and care is provided willingly and consistently and often stretches over the thirty day basic care.  

Irie and her support donkey, Marley, are housed in a double sized stall with a foal door which allows smaller equines to see out into the barn.  Decompression can begin.  We take things slowly because we are fortunate to have plenty of time and no end schedule in mind.  Our wonderful vet arrives to give us a more detailed vet inspection and answer all the questions we have.  Irie’s eyes have no vision but we suspect she can identify shadows.  She is younger than we thought at nine.  Dr P thinks her loss of sight is a result of infection which could most likely have been cured with drops.  We will never know.   Given her body condition, it’s a pretty good assumption to believe that she had been neglected for some time before arriving at auction.  She certainly isn’t willing to interact or easy to handle.

We have a dedicated care and confidence giving team on Meredith who supplement the volunteers.  They live on the farm which means care is spread throughout the day and observations are plenty!  Corey naturally gravitates towards Irie and she is calm in Corey’s presence.  We know that Irie requires a paddock with few obstacles, one kind of similar to Corey’s grassy yard….  So with a good amount of planning, adapting a lovely storage shed to a barn and creating a secure, safe, smaller paddock, temporary accommodations are set up for Irie and Marley the support donkey.  The care and nurturing is confidently handed over to Corey, on a temporary basis.  The moral of this part of Irie’s story is never ever put a time on temporary when you’re dealing with us!  Temporary managed to stretch on  and on until we had two animals that had made themselves a little bit too comfortable in accommodations.  Watching Marley standing on the beautiful covered porch calmly eating from Jasper’s bowl brought home the fact that now was the time to integrated them into the bigger herds.  That and the fact that Jasper is a dog and a very good boy to accept the greedy donkey stealing his food!

We thank Corey profusely for her exceptional care and for over staying our temporary status and watch with delight as she returns to dog rescue accommodations!  Minus the food stealing donkey!

We have two confident animals to accommodate in herds, one with more specific needs than the other.  We are not actively searching for a home for Marley but a highly suitable opportunity opens up for him and we decide to rehome him to a five star home in New Hampshire.  We spend a great deal of time deliberating just how this will affect Irie.  Marley is young, energetic with a deep sense of mischief.  He needs a home that is active with donkey friends to interact with in the usual donkey roughhousing kind of way.  Irie is not that companion.  She is assertive and at the first sign of nonsense lets him know her displeasure.  With Corey’s input she is confident and has relied less on Marley as a support.  We test her in the enormous paddock that borders her ‘temporary’ home.  She can hear the dogs, it smells familiar as do the animals in the large paddock because they have socialized through the fence.  She takes a decided liking to Ms Momo and the similarity in coloring and difference in size makes for an amusing contrast.  Ms Momo must recognize her sight issue because she is surprisingly tolerant of her tiny shadow!

We have many changes in that herd, not least the devastating passing of Ms Momo.  While Irie remains happy there, we have decided to up her training.  She is walking well in hand, is easy to catch if it suits her, and is now working on her voice commands while out and about.  We’re developing a program that allows us to work out how best to accommodate her outside of the paddock.  Most excitingly, Wilbur will be moving over to Meredith to see if they workout together.  They have similar nutritional needs and accommodations that make them sensible herd companions.  Let’s see how our strong independent Irie takes that intrusion into her space!  Good luck Wilbur, you’re going to need it!

Carlene’s current wellbeing, brain is over active, hands are readily engaged, legs are working but not yet as efficiently as hoped.  All good and definitely progressing in the right direction.

DD 12/1

Good morning and welcome back December!  We have a cold yet sunny start to the day!

Continuing Irie’s story that we started yesterday….

We leave the animals we rescue in the auction house overnight.  For this particular auction, we leave MA around 5am and drive to PA in plenty of time to perform the walk through assessments.  The flip side of this is that we’re not in the best state physically or mentally to drive home after the auction has ended.

This break in proceedings allows us the time to have the vet perform the Coggins Test, the Vet Cert and give a tetanus shot.  Since most people take their purchases home right after the auction, the pens are pretty empty and less frenetic.  We make sure everyone, including animals that are not ours, have access to ample water and hay.  Bringing our own feed with us ensures we start our feed program ASAP!  All grains and legumes are fed soaked as a matter of course to ensure maximum water in take year round! Water intake is key here since it wards off all sorts avoidable issues.

As an aside, whisky is commonly know as the water of life.  If you’d like to be fancy, Uisge Beath is the Scottish Gaelic term!  We’re not fancy so we just use plain old H2O but if we want to be a wee bit fancy, we use hot water in winter!

Up early the next morning to ensure the animals have been fed, watered and hayed.  If they accept a halter, we take them out, in hand, to stretch their legs and get some fresh air.  If they don’t accept a halter easily, we know we’re about to have an interesting morning!  I must admit, I don’t think I can recall a travel day morning that hasn’t been interesting!

Loading the rescues into the trailer does not follow our principles in animal handling.  We need them loaded in the safest, most time efficient manner possible.  We train them to load once we get home but for now, time is of the essence and this saying clearly falls on deaf ears because the animals rarely comply!  This really comes as no surprise given that many have been on the auction circuit for a while and the inside of a trailer holds no comfort or security.  We also rescue animals who probably have only been on a trailer once and that was to travel to auction!  Here we find ourselves in another situation not for the faint hearted!

Irie needs modifications for travel.  We don’t know her well but we know we need to provide an enclosed area with no obstacles.  Fortunately we have a stallion stall on the trailer which means the partition goes all the way down to the floor to create a secure oasis away from other animals and hooves!

Once we’re all safely loaded, the trip home revolves around water stops, hay top ups and reorganizing the animals on the farms!  Eight hours of problem solving, arranging, rearranging and the ripple of excitement caused by bringing home animals that will challenge us is a wonderful way to while the time away!

Irie, with her sight impairment, will be the first animal of her kind that I have worked with.  Lots of learning which, as we all know, is the life force that keeps us moving forward!