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Friday, January 11 2013


There are times when I question the sanity of having eight dogs. Yes, 8! Eight freakin' dogs! Old dogs, young dogs, retired dogs, and working dogs! And when you add monsoon rains to eight dogs, my life becomes a Dr. Seuss book.

"Can you stand it in the rain?"
"What if he added a Great Dane?"

ARRRRRGGGHHHHH!  I'm losing my mind!!!!!

Mud, barking, juggling personalities, buying dog food. It becomes a maddening cycle. And when the mud forces us inside, tempers flare - both with us and the dogs.

So it was that by yesterday, Other Half and I were at each other's throats regarding dogs and mud. And that's when we got a call that the cows were out.

Okay, not all the cows, just the stupid one that I've been trying to get him to sell for over a year.  (Read: When It Rains, It Pours ) Unfortunately when one cow is out, the rest are not far behind. This almost sent us both over the edge.

I had to go to work. I had no time to be screwing around with cows. I really did not want to be late AGAIN! (Remember that just last week I arrived at work late and muddy because someone else's goats got out) So as Other Half got his blue jeans and mud boots on, I got ready for work.  I found myself singing under my breath in the shower.

To the tune of "I Love Paris" -

"I hate cows in the springtime,
 I hate cows in the fall . . . "

Even though I have to go to work, I still feel obligated to drive over and help him before I headed to work. I shouldn't have bothered. Other Half had a secret weapon.

Cowboy the Cowdog

Yes, I objected six ways to Sunday when he rescued Cowboy weeks before we were to receive a Border Collie puppy that we'd already ordered (Trace). We didn't need another dog, especially a dog that marked in the house and didn't get along with the cow dog we already had (Blue Heeler).  But brown eyes and a soft heart won out and Cowboy came to live with us. 

He has more control on the field than Trace, and he gathers rather than drives like Blue Heeler, so he's another good tool for the tool box. 

We arrived to find stupid Paisley had made a jail break again, (that cow needs to be on the first boat OUT!) but no one else had found the hole yet. It took us longer to walk out there than it took Cowboy to grab Paisley and drive her back through the gate that Other Half opened for them.

I watched him work and had one of those slap your forehead "Wow, I coulda had a V-8!" moments.  Oh yeah!  THAT's why we have all these dogs.  Okay. I remember it now.

A tool box isn't much good unless it's got just the right tool for the job. So I happily left Other Half and Cowboy fixing the fence while I drove to work . . . and got there five minutes early.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 10:45 am   |  Permalink   |  1 Comment  |  Email
I completely understand. Each of our dogs has their own strengths and weaknesses. It's up to us to work with them.
Posted by Nicole on 01/14/2013 - 01:55 PM

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