Farm Fresh Blog

As we have already established, I have a drinking problem. Frappuccinos. Starbucks Frappuccinos in little glass bottles. They are sinful. They are addictive. They are expensive. They are 180 calories!

I decided on Sunday night that I would quit. Monday afternoon Other Half brought home a 4-pack. I'm not sure if it was for me or him. It didn't matter. I'm weak. I drank them.

One day I'm gonna whip this caffeine addiction. Just not today. And tomorrow isn't looking too good either.

Let me re-hash the last 24 hours:

Other Half is back at work now. He is currently working day shift. His patrol dog is not. He drops her off at vet's office yesterday because she is limping. Off to work alone he goes. He calls me to go pick her up for him.

I do. She has a bum left knee that looks to be career ending. Great. Just great. I call Other Half to inform him that I have picked up his dog. He informs me that Son's truck has just been stolen. And the day just got darker . . .

But like a Ginsu commercial, I hear "But WAIT! There's more! All his police equipment was inside the truck!"

OMG! Ohmygosh! Son has just joined the police department and picked up his gear. He and his sister then stopped in The Big City to buy more gear he would need in the Police Academy and his truck was stolen. Great. Just freakin' great.

Chew on that all day. Thanks to fantastic work by night shift officers the truck is recovered around midnight. Other Half and Son get it and Other Half returns home at 3:30 am. Gear is still inside. Oh Happy Day!

This morning Other Half goes to pay vet bill and confirms that this is indeed a career-ending injury for Patrol Dog. The agency will be getting him a new dog in May.  Probably. Maybe. We'll see. And the looming question: What do we do with Oli? We have 8 dogs! Now 9!!!! Nine! 

Get ready to start my morning chores. Phone rings. Wonder of wonders. Paisley the Problem Cow is out again. This is the cherry on the sundae of my day. Paisley is a supposed to be a red angus but I think she is really a goat that merely looks like a cow. Am beginning to hate that cow.

Must now abandon plans for the morning, pack up Border Collies and drive to property to round up stupid cow. Call Other Half to scream at him about Paisley. Load up dogs. Load up a sack of cubes. Drive through gate.

Get out and lock gate. Drive down road. Pass police car on highway. Note car turn around in rear view mirror. Call Other Half to cuss him out because I am about to be stopped for speeding . . . because of his stupid cow. (Woman Logic 101)

Yes indeeed, am being stopped by police. Grrrr... Why aren't they out catching REAL criminals. (evil grin) Give husband my location in case I'm arrested and he has to come rescue dogs. (just kidding) Get off phone. Step out of truck. Note officer is tiny female. Makes me feel old and fat. I looked like that at the beginning of my career too.

She introduces herself. I have been stopped for going 40 mph in a 30 mph. I happen to note that she sees that I am wearing an FBI Academy sweatshirt. I inform her that there is a gun in the car but I am a police officer. Then I yell at Border Collies to shut up. Deputy introduces herself. She must be a rookie. She shakes my hand and takes my word that I am a cop. She then asks for driver license. I am happy to retrieve this item and open truck to reach into bag and get it. To my horror I realize that I only have one Border Collie in the truck.  (Cue Psycho soundtrack music here)

At this point, I completely forget that I am on a traffic stop and thus being detained by the po-lice. I have bigger problems. I have LOST a dog! I jump on running board and begin to climb into vehicle in search of a dog that isn't inside. Rookie Deputy is intrigued but does not stop me. I explain that I have a loose cow and am racing to get said cow back and SOMEHOW have managed to lose an adult Border Collie! Clearly this was not covered in the police academy but she figures that I am not a real criminal and thus not worth more of her time. She gives me back my license and bids me farewell. And is probably off in search of less psychotic people to stop.

Now I must now drive back home and find Cowboy.

Decide that he either hopped out of truck when I was loading cattle cubes or he hopped out when I closed the main gate. Speed home. No, I didn't learn the first time. Bounce into driveway to find that Cowboy is in the yard, fence-fighting with Ranger. (They both have disfigured noses because of this behavior, thus we try to keep them apart.) Thankfully neither dog is mangled. Grab Cowboy and throw him back in truck. Speed back toward Stupid Cow. (Yes I know, but I looked for the deputy this time!)

Am about to arrive when I get another call from neighbor. They got Stupid Paisley back inside. This news clearly disappoints both Border Collies. Their help is not needed. Now we must fix the fence. I cuss Other Half one more time as I will be late for work AGAIN because I must help neighbor fix fence. It is not his responsibility but he is big-hearted and so we roll up our sleeves and do it together. Cowboy sneaks off and bites Paisley. I snicker. It is the high point of my day.

Finish fence. Race back home. I have only thirty minutes to do chores and take a shower. (not gonna happen) Walk in house to find that Labrador has busted out of bedroom and spread trash all over the kitchen floor. Kick trash in disgust and leave it, just LEAVE IT for Other Half to deal with when he gets home. (YES, I DID!)  Get in shower. Put on uniform. Feed dogs. Note that we have no more dog food. Alrightie then. Call Other Half to inform him that he must get dog food on his way home and finish chores when he returns. He argues that feed store will be closed and thus he cannot buy food. (Implied: "Since you're already late, you might as well stop by feed store and buy dog food.")

That was NOT going to happen. I don't care if dogs are eating frozen hamburger patties and breakfast sausage for supper.  I'm going to work and what they eat tonight is his problem.

Look at gas gauge. Empty. Figures. Text the office to advise them that I will be late AGAIN.

This surprises no one. 

And you wonder why I'm addicted to caffiene.