Farm Fresh Blog

Last night Ice came home. Even though life for her is much better at Grandma's house, after a few days she realized that she wasn't just visiting, and she became more and more stressed. She missed her pack. She missed her mommy.  I took her on the "pack walks" each morning with us, but it wasn't enough.  She began waiting by the fence for me. She turned her back on "the good life" and wanted to come home . . . home to a half-life where she must share everything with the pack, but it was what she wanted, and so we honored that. 

I was reminded of the street dog who belonged to the homeless man.  We fed him roast beef and cornbread, but he left us and never looked back when his master hobbled down the street. (read: Moral Dilemmas)  Ice is a devoted little dog.  She still loves Grandma, but she wants to live over here.

On a side note:  Ranger had taken to hopping the fence, going through Grandma's doggy door, and visiting Ice.  Apparently he was also feeling the pinch of a pack divided.  Either that, or he has decided that cleaning out the refrigerator with G'ma is the cat's pajamas!  He is an odd little dog.

This morning he raced across 3 pastures when he heard lambs bleating in distress. Normally his attitude towards the sheep is "they are great toys to bark at," but upon hearing them in a panic, his Crazy-Overprotective-Greek-Mother genes kicked in and he raced to their defense.  How utterly odd . . .

(They were fine, they had simply misplaced their mother.) Ranger was not satisfied however, until the lambs found their mother and all was well again.  I'll say this, I was strongly against getting that little fruitcake, but he has proven to be such a good family dog that if I lived in some remote part of Texas, (and didn't have to worry about them biting people) I'd have a pack of little blue psycho dogs.