A week ago I rode my three speed a couple miles down the road to the 70 acre horse pasture. Lola and Cleo ran along side perusing the bar ditch, wildly and blindly tracing the scent of rabbit and carrion. What would it be like to have that kind of crazed subservience to your olfactory senses? To map the lines of smell with such dedication and determination that all other senses become inoperative. Once, Lola on a bunny trail, ran pell-mell into the side of a car horrifying the driver who tried to catch her as Lola then ran falteringly back home to me feeling painfully sore and seemingly emotionally wounded. But on another occasion, Lola on a bunny trail, ran full speed disappearing out of sight to return 10 minutes later with a mouthful of rabbit, which she proudly dropped at my feet before she went to retire from her labors under the porch. I didn't recall ever talking with her about fetching me dinner and I was grateful, yes, but unfortunately I was on my way to work and so that rabbit never ended up in a soup pot. With sincerity I took it to the base of a cottonwood tree and tucked it into the tall grasses.
A contribution to death maybe.
Alms for the local carrion feeders.
A benefaction for dirt.
so long,
so long,
Goodnight.
In our new home in Idaho the rabbit population is replaced by skunks, well as far as I can tell. Some dogs are sagacious and wisely stay away from them while others smell to some degree like skunk always. There is however an antidote. A skunk erasing wash made out of:
1 quart of hydrogen peroxide
1/4 cup baking soda
2 tablespoons joy soap
it works!
Needless to say, we are experienced now and I have yet to find out how keen Lola's memory is.
About a dozen horses are pasturing on the 70 acres, Sparrow and Taceo included. After our decision to over-winter I haven't paid much mind to them hoping though that they would get busy and put on some winter weight, especially Taceo who had gotten really thin towards the end. To our delight, perhaps slightly sadistic delight, most of the horses look so fat they can barely move, like zeppelin's propped up on pencil's. They are all content I think, to build a winter paunch with the last of this season's grass and to maunder about in a herd being horses. Their beards are starting to grow and some of them have the beginning's of a winter coat. Winter should be on anytime, so I hear. So these are our last days before fall "falls" and I begin my campaign against the cold.
About a dozen horses are pasturing on the 70 acres, Sparrow and Taceo included. After our decision to over-winter I haven't paid much mind to them hoping though that they would get busy and put on some winter weight, especially Taceo who had gotten really thin towards the end. To our delight, perhaps slightly sadistic delight, most of the horses look so fat they can barely move, like zeppelin's propped up on pencil's. They are all content I think, to build a winter paunch with the last of this season's grass and to maunder about in a herd being horses. Their beards are starting to grow and some of them have the beginning's of a winter coat. Winter should be on anytime, so I hear. So these are our last days before fall "falls" and I begin my campaign against the cold.
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| cleo and lola |
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| ponies |
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| sparrow gathered up by cleo |
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| working dogs, or so they think |
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| Chris, modeling her grass belly, Taceo nose to the "grindstone" behind her |
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