Name that creature!

We don't think it's a rat. We don't think it's a squirrel. It's nocturnal, striped and vegetarian.

We know what this one is. It's a gopher that's fallen into the well of the basement window. Whether it wants to be there or not it likely doesn't want that cat peering down the hole looking for it.

Spring? Not so much

On Wednesday there was fierce snow and wind, we had to live in sepia:

It was probably the worst conditions in which I've driven, one side of the main road, highway 89, was blocked by snow so I had to drive in the wrong lane. Visibility was near zero so I was concerned that I might go into the ditch on the one side or into the deep snow on the other. There was also a chance of a vehicle coming the other way. A bit rough all in all.

It's still cold. This is a cut down oil drum, the idea is that it can serve as a water trough. The cord leads to a heater which, ahem, keeps it from freezing.

This is a heated water bowl for the chickens. It's frozen solid.

Still, the unattractiveness of the great outdoors is good for getting indoor stuff done. The bedroom walls used to be blue and now they're yellow. Thanks to Anna's Mother there are even curtains.

We don't like the look of this,

The great sprawl is edging towards us. Masonville, the nearest place with a name, now has a traffic light.

Light industry, tract housing and big box stores can't be long in coming.

It's trying to be Spring.

Bright mornings now, lots of sun in general and some days the temperature briefly rises above freezing.

The animals are getting lively. The white blob through the window is the moon, the cat is howling at it. All that junk around the cat playhouse is displaced from the bedroom which was being painted, except the shutters, of course, they await inspiration on the part of the flower painter.

The Spring creature has returned to raid the birdbox. I've never seen the front of this nocturnal animal but am told that it has big eyes with kinda white rings around them.

That thing sticking up from the deck rail is the tail of the fleeing creature, it's too fat for a rat.

Down at the barn we have another sign of Spring, a raccoon. This is a secret stash of stolen eggs amid the hay. I loath raccoons. I'm torn between wanting to shoot this one and wanting to trap it and release it in the city where they're a protected species.

A warm stream running down the back of one's legs

is really an unpleasant and disconcerting for a man as the obvious source of warm water isn't back there.


The hose to the barn is still frozen under the ground somewhere and so we carry water down the hill, some in a backpack, some dragged behind in a container on a dog leash. In this case one of the bottles in the backpack had leaked.

It's mid-March and still very much winter, the roads are iffy due to blowing snow



this pick up got sideways on the icy turn but didn't actually spin out.

We can just about drive down to the gate by the barn but not into the field. The laneway is exactly the width of the Land Cruiser

I suppose if it got stuck one would have to climb out of the window or wait for Spring.


Meanwhile indoors, the important stuff is geting done. If there's ever warmth and we want to sit on the deck there'll at least be beer.

You can't say the patient is listless.

Here's Dixie rolling
bucking

bucking again

and running around
despite being prodded and jabbed.


It's surprisingly hard to push Penicillin through the needle, it's much thicker than a vaccine. Touch wood though, the wound looks good.

Working on that wound.

That's not just blood on the snow but the drippings from pouring Betadine into Dixie's cut.

We first cleared the are of dirt and hair




and after the Betadine we sprayed it with a saline solution sold for cleaning contact lens.




In contrast with a horse from the past this one didn't thrash in crossties or need twitching, she munched on despite the buzz of the clippers and the poking around in the hole in her side.



Good as gold, despite the grain envy from her stablemate.

Some injuries

We've been lucky this past year, our place is not especially a safe place. We've barbed wire fences, nails sticking out of posts, precarious inclines for the tractor, icy paths and driveways, and yet no terrible harm has come to any of us; save the chicken that dropped dead.

I did touch my arm on the chimney.



Monique must have done the same a while back as she had similar burns. That saddened and disappointed me, it's always seemed a great curiousity that someone who has no language and and apparently feels no pain is generally adept at avoiding physical harm to herself - she must have made a mistake with the stovepipe, just as I did.

Dixie has has some sort of mishap, nail or barb we're not sure, we found no blood on the ground or on sharp protrusions. Still it's a nasty cut, it looks as if she stretched over a wire and then withdrew pulling it into her flesh.






One can, of course, say that keeping horses in less than ideal conditions will inevitably lead to injuries and is therefore wrong. The counter argument being that the horses would otherwise be dinner and they don't have it so bad. Again, it's a disappointing injury, some horses can cut themselves in a padded cell while these two seem brighter than that. At least it's winter, no flies or bugs to deal with but the cut will need maintenance and she can't be blanketed while bleeding so we must hope the weather's not too bitter in the coming days.

Our last Christmas present to each other is electro-braid, it waits on weather and money, I know we'll all be glad when it's in place.