A Hole

There is a 120 pound hole in my heart today.

After a very quick, yet aggressive battle with cancer, my best friend lost her life last night.   She was in our backyard with The Dairy Farmer and myself.  It was a lovely summer evening, especially for June.  We spent 2 hours with her....saying our goodbyes.  She was having pain and discomfort, not really eating and having trouble getting up and down.  It was time.  I knew it and she knew it, but it never makes that gut wrenching, heart breaking decision any easier.  Our vet came to our house and she passed away very peacefully in my arms in the same place we lost our Nittany so many years ago. 

I have loved every one of my dogs, but, sometimes.....there is that ONE.  That one that knows you inside and out....and loves you anyway.  That one that knows your thoughts before you think them.  That one that connects with your heart and soul.  I have had two in my life.....and they both found me through strange circumstances.   I highly recommend that you read  "A Dog's Purpose."  A friend loaned it to me and I read it and fell in love.  I was told once by a dog trainer, who may have been a little pet psychic, that our dogs always find us again.   And....now....I believe it.

Abby came into our lives as a rescue.  She was kept in a basement for over a year.  They claimed that she killed their other dog.....dead......that's right, a weimaraner....she killed it.....so they said.     The owner fed her and let her outside to use the bathroom, but she had no socialization for a long time.  Our boarding kennel contacted The Dairy Farmer one day and said they had a special case, were we intersted?   


We had Jack and as a pup, he drove us nuts!  He was 150lbs of hyper!   We had hoped another dog would "calm him down."  But our searches never went anywhere.....always a dead end.  We wanted another big dog, but didn't want that puppy stage again.

The afternoon before the call came.....we had both decided, we were done.  No more dogs.  Jack was settling down and our life was just right.   And, if we did get another....The DF said NO MORE BIG DOGS!!!   It was a Tuesday night and The DF picked us up at girl scouts and headed home.....in the wrong direction.  He took us right to the boarding kennel and said "we have to see."   

This gorgeous black and white Great Dane came down the hallway....thin.....scared....tail tucked about as far under as it could go.  She came to me immediately and sniffed my face all over.....eyes, mouth, ears, hair.......and did the same to The Dairy Farmer.   I looked in to her eyes......and knew she had to come home with us.

She passed all my "tests"....with kids, cats and even Jack.  He submissively rolled over and that's how it's been for the past 3 years.  She arrived the day before Thanksgiving in 2007....and fit into our house like she belonged.   We took her everywhere with us....socialization is key.   We had her at one of Jr Edition's baseball games and she was in heaven when all the kids would crowd around her, lovin' up on the "giant dalmation."   She was something special and by June of the next year, she was a certified therapy dog.   She shared her specialness with many.  It's not often a "giant dalmation" or a "why, that's a cow" shows up in a nursing home.  They loved her.

I know that God sent her to me for a reason.  She just had to have a crappy beginning to find us.  You see, I have nursing home phobia.  I can't stand the smells, the sounds, the knowing that death hangs around there.  I have missed many grandparents passing due to that fact.  I can go in early....before they are "actively dying"....say hey and make a beeline out of that joint.   My favorite Aunt Rose was trying to die at Providence Place years ago (I say trying, because it seems my mom's side of the family keeps their wits about them until the bitter end).  Their brains are with it....their bodies just give out.   I couldn't get myself to go see her.   I'd have anxiety attacks just thinking about it.  One day, I got it together.....I HAVE to do this.  She was one fun aunt and I owed it to her.  I walked in the door and the receptionist said "didn't anyone call you?"  She had died that night and I never said goodbye.   Damn......

This dog came into my life and I knew that she and I were destined to do therapy work.  It was hard at first.....I had anxiety going in those places....and especially into Providence Place, but we did it.  And I might have missed saying goodbye to my Aunt Rose, but we said goodbye to lots of other people.  It's not easy....but the smiles on their faces when this huge black and white dane entered their room.....just to see them.....well.....it was worth it. 

I know what we did for her was a selfless act.  We allowed her to die with the grace and dignity she deserved.  She did not have to suffer long.  As one of my vet tech friends said....it's a gift we give them.  They give us everything they have.....they love us through the good, the bad and the ugly.....and making the decision to let them go is never easy....but it's a thank you.  I think your face should be the last face they see and your voice, the last voice they hear.  It's awful, it's hard and it sucks, but they would do it for you......no questions asked.

Thank you, Abigail Jenkins for blessing my life. 

I will leave you with this poem:

The Rainbow Bridge

inspired by a Norse legend

By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,

Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.

Where the friends of man and woman do run,

When their time on earth is over and done.

For here, between this world and the next,

Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.

On this golden land, they wait and they play,

Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.

No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,

For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.

Their limbs are restored, their health renewed,

Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued.

They romp through the grass, without even a care,

Until one day they start, and sniff at the air.

All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,

Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.

For just at that instant, their eyes have met;

Together again, both person and pet.

So they run to each other, these friends from long past,

The time of their parting is over at last.

The sadness they felt while they were apart,

Has turned into joy once more in each heart.

They embrace with a love that will last forever,

And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together.

When I worked in the vet's office, we would include this poem in a sympathy card when our clients lost their pet.  All I know is, if it's real......when I get to Rainbow Bridge, I better brace myself for about 500 pounds of dog coming at me!

Abigail Jenkins Brechbill

January 22, 2005- June 29, 2011

I will always love you, momma.

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Our number one priority

The Dairy Farmer always says that cow comfort is a top priority here at Brechland Farms.  Happy cows make lots of milk and that's kind of important around here.  He says when he walks in the barn he wants to see the ladies laying down and chewing their cud.  

Cud, you say?  What on earth is a "cud?"  Well, in my terms it's a big, wadded up ball of food that they've already eaten, which they yack back up and chew all over again.   That, my farm following friends.....is a cud.    Now....why, you say would a cow do such a thing?    Well....now I have to go find The DF and ask him why they do that.  Actually, I do know.   I think I've mentioned that I have a degree in veterinary medical technology, so, I am not just some fool bumbling about this place (even though it may appear that way on the outside), I kinda have a clue on somethings.  It so happens, I know a thing or two about cows....and cuds. 

Back up a bit to my definition of a cud:  it's really a bolus of partially digested food substance that is eructated by the ruminant for further mastication.  Why DO they do that?  Well, contrary to popular belief, a cow does NOT have four stomachs.  They have one stomach with four compartments.  

When a cow eats, the food is partially chewed, mainly just to get it wet and then swallowed into the first compartment (rumen) where it mixes with chemicals and is then regurgitated back up so they can continue chewing it.  When a cow chews her cud, she secretes a lot of saliva.  The saliva is like an antacid and helps to buffer the rumen.  Proper buffering allows the cow to digest her food more efficiently and to eat more food which produces more milk.   Interesting....why yes.....yes it is.  

There is another theory of why ruminants chew their cud as well and it stems from ages ago, before domestication.   Many grazing herbivores would eat quickly, so they weren't in harms way...grabbing some food, giving it a quick chew and then moving on to their safe hiding place where they would then calmly burp and rechew.....out of harms way.   True?  I don't know....sounds good....but then why aren't horses ruminants?  They only have one stomach.   Guess maybe they are faster and can get away  much more quickly than a lumbering dairy cow?    That God.....always amazes me. 


Dairy cows spend over 8 hrs a day chewing their cuds for a total of almost 30,000 chews daily.

It can be said that a content cow is one who is seen chewing her cud.  And, that's what our farmer likes to see, happy, content cows laz-ing around the barn chewing away.

Now, to quickly go on, since I started this lesson in digestion:  once they have rechewed their food, it's swallowed again and goes into the reticulum.  Ever heard of tripe?  Well.....this is it.   If anyone offers you tripe soup....well.....consider yourself edumacated.   

Here is an interesting fact- many times cows will ingest metal (nails/staples/pieces of fencing etc) while they are eating.  It goes into the reticulum.  Most times, it's broken down by the stomach juices, but sometimes cow's can get ill from it and it's called "hardware" disease.  They may have eaten a nail- and that sharp nail could puncture the stomach wall or even the heart, which is close by.   Cows can be given a big magnet- which is placed into the reticulum and all the metal will be attracted to...hopefully, preventing further issues.   Cool, huh?

Once food moves out of the reticulum, it heads to the omasum.   It will help continue breaking down the food.  Up to now- the main function of these 3 compartments is basically breaking down the food item.....it then moves on to the abomasum- often called the "true" stomach because digestion/absorption finally begin here.    There you have it,  cow digestion in a nutshell.  You're welcome. 

That's not what my post started out to be.  It was about cow comfort.  And one day, a few weeks ago, I looked out my bathroom window and saw this:

What on earth is that?  So, I had to get out my camera and take a closer look:

That little turkey.  It's a wayward calf.  She escaped the pen during the night and decided to climb up in the straw pile and make herself a little nest. 

She's on about 8 feet of bedding, all nestled in, snug as a bug.  It kind of reminded me of the Princess and the Pea story.    When the princess couldn't sleep because there was a pea underneath her twenty mattresses.   I'm pretty sure this princess slept pretty well though.  



Side note from The DF:  we normally do not have that much bedding piled up. That's what's been cleaned out of the barns over the winter and when this picture was taken, we were having torrential rainfalls and couldn't get out in the fields.  And, cows are opportunists, so when they find a nice comfy place to doze and chew their cud, they're not gonna be picky.  Like I say, cow comfort is our number one priority. 

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Weirdness

Just yesterday, in my non-camping post, I made a comment about Bigfoot.   It was kind of, sort of a joke, because, sheesh....we all know, he's not real.  I mean c'mon...a giant hairy ape living in colonies in the woods all over America and NO ONE can get a "real" picture of one?  Or even find a dead one anywhere?  Seriously? 

But, you know what....I kind of, sort of wasn't joking.  I, secretly, like to think that there are mysterious animals living in our world and we can't seem to confirm or deny their existence.  Like Sasquatch or Nessie or even Raystown Ray- our local loch ness monster in Lake Raystown.  I'm sure others do to or we wouldn't have loved Hairy and the Henderson's, Baby or Jurassic Park so much.   

So, when I heard that Finding Bigfoot was premiering last night at 10pm on Discovery....guess who was tuned in?   The fact that the spoiler showed a man deep in the Florida swamps listening intently to the guttural noises coming from the woods and saying "I do believe there is a squatch in them woods" only piqued my interest.  That's just good stuff. 

Back in the 70's , I remember watching those grainy home movies of Bigfoot sightings on my retro futuristic zenith color TV console and actually believing that he lived outside my bedroom window.  And, seeing that there is actually going to be a series about finding him,  that makes me believe it all the more.   The Dairy Farmer wasn't impressed that I was excited to watch this show.  He told me it was a waste of a good hour of my life, but I figured.....it's at 10pm.  What am I normally doing at 10pm on a Sunday night?  Why, I am lying in bed watching Everybody Loves Raymond re-runs and trying like mad to drone out the sound of the loud snores emanating from my true love and hoping to fall asleep before I have to rain blows upon him. 

So, I'm watching....I don't care watcha say.  This has GOT to be good.  And.....I wasn't disappointed.  It starts out with 4 people from BFRO (for the layman- that's Bigfoot Field Research Organization) who go to Florida to meet with a family who says Bigfoot- who they call skunk ape in the south- who knew? is visiting their property nightly.  Remember that- nightly...that's a key word. 

Ok- so one guy's name is Moneymaker, that, in itself just made me laugh.  The other dude,  they call Bobo and I swear on my life that he IS part Sasquatch.  He is a huge, hairy man, and I think that the part this isn't Yeti is part American Indian. He's kind of a bumbling fool and when he let out his "call" to bring in the skunk apes...well, I just about peed my pants.  The other one is a chick who reminds me of Velma from Scooby Doo and then there is some random other guy. 

These poor folks- who are scared to death because this ape thing has been visiting their porch and left a big, slimy, stinkin' hand print on the INSIDE of their screen door, ate all their bird food and hopped over their fence leaving a huge footprint, decide that - of course, these 4 BFRO folks can spend the night and look for the apes. 

This is where I died.  It was too much.  They decide to go "dark man" and sent the chick down into the woods, by herself in the middle of the night in the flippin' dark and let her listen to what is going on around her and report back via walkie talkie.   Bobo-oh, I can hardly stand it, remains on the porch with a thermal scanning device to look for movement of warm bodies and the other 2 randomly walk about the property.  

So, Bobo calls in the apes and guess what????  One answers back!  He gets an image on the screen of a big warm body and as he goes to investigate further........he falls down the flippin' porch steps and scares the skunk ape away!!!!!  For the love of Mary.....WTH???????     They all call it a night and decide to leave the panhandle of Florida and go down into the everglades and visit with some Indians who have seen him too.


Now- here is what kills me.  The entire show is filmed with night vision cameras.  Why, in heavens name do these BFRO people NOT have night vision equipment???????  And if that dang ape is visiting these poor folks NIGHTLY ...why not just put up surveillance cameras around the property and get an actual video of it?   Oh my stinkin' heck.....I am not trained nor educated in Bigfoot in anyway, but I am considering hopping a plane and dropping by Quincy, Florida to totally school these people in how to spot a squatch. 

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Camping my way

A few weeks ago, I blogged about Jr. Edition and his adventure camping with his class.  Well, he had a FANTASTIC time and was so happy he was able to go.  While he was away, The Dairy Farmer decided we should go camping too.

What?  Me?  I don't camp.  I've said it once, twice, three times a lady, I am an "inside" kinda wife.  I will cabin and perhaps RV, but sleeping in the woods, in a tent, in the dark is not really my "thing."  It's the whole no bathroom, no shower, big foot is out there kinda thing that gets me.  I put it right up there with swimming in the ocean.  When I can't see what's coming at me- I get nervous.

The Dairy Farmer knows this and while I was working on the computer, he was in his office scheming.    This is what I found in his office at 10pm that night:

His tent, set up with a fully inflated air mattress and wonderfully soft sheets. 

And this:

The s'more station.  We sat on the blankets and roasted marshmallows over the "fire." 

And this:

A tree, so it really felt like the great outdoors.

And this:

An open window, so we could have the sense of really being out of doors....and we listened to the horses snorting, the chickens clucking and the calves bawling because that's exactly what you'd hear if you were camping for realz.

And then.....there was this:

My laptop, propped up on a case of printer paper...all plugged in and cued with an Ashton Kutcher movie.   We could lay in our tent, on an air mattress, snuggled up in a blanket, with a belly full of s'mores and watch a movie?  Heck yeah.....I'm all about camping.

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