Hard Workin' Dog

When I last left you I was going to check on the escaped dog who turned out to be sitting outside the neighbor's house serenading them. She seems to like to bark for the pure melodious tone of her own voice. To silly humans, it grows old. I dragged her back and then went about the nightly animal duties. I found that the cow had gotten through the fence and into the orchard and I tried to lure her back through with a bucket of grain. She had been willing to squeeze through the wires to get over there, but didn't seem to want to relive it quite so soon. I struggled with her for a good 1/2 hour and had nothing but a mud-caked boot to show for it. A call to the professionals said she'd find her own way back through in the night. I ached all over from weeding and cow wrestling and was so looking forward to sleep, but my eyes wouldn't close, and even lying down my joints hurt. I was just relaxing into slumber when Heavenly (the escaping dog) began to sing me a lullaby; she sleeps in the same room. We had encores every few hours. I was actually glad when the alarm went off at 7:15. It was sunny but crispy cold. 2 minutes after I served Heavenly her breakfast on the porch, she had escaped again, despite the furniture I had piled against the off-limits dog door, and off I went to give the neighbors back their quiet Saturday morning. Buttercup (the fence defying cow) was still in the orchard. This morning however she had grown tired of greens and had a yen for that molasses in her grain bucket, and accompanied by my cheerleading, she made it through. I was feeling pretty powerful as I cleaned out the chicken waterers. Llamas and cow were grained and hayed (I got a dramatic alfalfa splinter on the inside of my wrist, you know I'm proud of a good wound!)! I am old hat at chickens. I raised a whole batch for a 4H project. Back inside I thought I would never get warm, but eventually made a venture to town and baked myself in the car on the way. In the afternoon I took the boat out on the lake. It is a cool little solar-powered electric dingy. Evening chores were infinitely smoother this time around. I have just emerged from a soak in the hot tub where I aimed the jets at the knot in my neck that has kept me unable to turn my head to the right all day (a la Don Ironsides). That knot has four-legged, singing Houdini written all over it!
Aches and pains aside, it feels good to have handled all these things by myself. I am noticing how citified I have become, how little a modern person can participate in the things that sustain her, and how satisfying simplicity can be.