Spending almost all my time alone due to the pandemic allows me to reflect deeply on my ordinary life. A pitfall of not interacting in-person with others is that, as a human being, I begin to assume that I must be the brightest, most intelligent person - EVER! Fortunately, some natural law of equilibrium continues to operate on the ego, even in the pandemic isolation. The world has its ways to assure that no human becomes so self-aggrandizing as to ever again attempt a tower of Babel.
After years of various desperate struggles to make certain my horses have enough water in the winter, I finally landed on a brilliant idea of a corral between the barn and house. It would be a permanent structure that would allow the horses to come down to a water tank within about 50 feet from a water faucet and electrical outlets. I would only need a 50 foot garden hose - not 350 feet. I was so proud of this solution.
I thought the horses would simply wear a path through the tall grass that grew between the barn and yard. And that might have happened if the first winter had not been nothing but mud - all winter long. And if the second winter had not been nothing but mud - all winter long. The horses have almost entirely obliterated all vegetation in a wide swath. It took an enormous effort to get that ground planted back to prairie so I grieve the loss of all that beautiful big bluestem. It also meant that I have to slog through slippery and deep mud all the way from the gate to the barn where the hay is. I hate it.
I also knew that rain run-off naturally drained from the pasture in the long low point running between the house and the barn. But when the sun was shining and the ground handily covered in restored thick, vibrant prairie, I arrogantly proclaimed: "Place the royal fence here, along the lowest level of drainage!" Well, actually, I wanted the fence closer to the house but the fence guy moved it to the low spot. Both of us are goddamned geniuses! If the fence had been moved just 6 feet further uphill, during the winters, the grass of the yard would have covered that long drainage slough. There would still be bare ground on the other side but not standing water and deep mud that sucks the boots off my feet.
The denuded hill is also an eyesore this close to the house. I think one solution will be to fence the horses out of it from spring to fall this year and give the vegetation a chance to recover. It will mean more garden hose but in warm weather that is not a problem. We will see.
In the cold dark days of January, 2020, I was perusing the website of the breeder where I got Mattie, my German Shepherd. I had two dogs then: Mattie and Jake. By the summer of 2020, I would have had knee surgery and have a new lease on life by the time my name came up on the list for a puppy. (The breeder has a long, long waiting list for puppies.)
Living with three dogs was possible. I live on almost 30 acres. My neighbor has 4 dogs at any given time. She is roughly my age and they haven't turned on her like ravening wolves yet! Wouldn't another adorable German Shepherd puppy, just like my Good Dog Mattie, be wonderful? In the cold, windy, late-winter night, I succumbed to the siren call of puppies, filling out a contract and sending a sizable non-refundable deposit for a sister to Mattie.
Then came the pandemic making elective surgery out of the question for me. I am too old to chance getting covid 19. I had almost forgotten about the puppy until I received a call late in November that I had first choice of the females in the litter. Oh. Oh, I say! It was not a good time for a puppy. I probably should have passed and opted for a later litter but it was awfully late to do that to the breeder. But, my poor ol' Jake had passed away during the summer. In keeping with his life of misfortune and injury, one of the horses stepped on his foot, crushing the bones. The vet kept him and tried to gently heal his foot without expensive surgery. While in the veterinarian hospital, Jake unexpectedly died. Even though my grief for Jake was still fresh, the idea of a puppy did not seem outrageous right then. So, enter Miss Kenzie.
Yes, it was a brilliant idea for a crippled old woman to get an energetic German Shepherd puppy late in the year! Mattie was easily kennel trained but Kenzie is STILL not house trained. She had no problem soiling her kennel day one, so the effective aid a kennel can be in house training was rendered useless on the first day. In addition to these difficulties, I suffered through an extended period of time when the "misery was upon me". I do not know what causes this illness. I do not run a fever nor have a head or stomach ache. I simply feel terrible and need to stay in bed. It is all I can do to force myself to look after my horses when this hits me. I have learned to manage this suffering with scalding hot baths and long naps until it passes. With a puppy those long naps were out of the question. Getting up three or four times a night almost killed me. Literally. I was not depressed but during the worst of constantly cleaning up both puppy and kennel, I thought if I die right now, I will not be mad.
It is in the contract that if for any reason I no longer wanted the puppy, I was to return her to the breeder. I seriously considered this option. But, I would be playing with Kenzie, teaching her new tricks, and watching her blast around on those impossibly big paws. Her comically enormous ears deployed, making her look like a fruit bat, and knew I could not give her up. She is so smart! She knows these commands already: sit, down, look at me, touch nice (instead of snapping food out of my hands) place, heel, and is learning wait and stay. I know that my inability to get around quickly enough has impeded the house breaking.
So, right now my beautiful wood floors are covered in muddy paw prints from both dogs. I have to keep one outside and one inside because as soon as they are in the house together, they thunder through the small rooms, knocking stuff over or down. The only safe way for both of them to be in the house together is for Kenzie to be in the kennel. How awful it is going to be when Kenzie is full grown? Mattie weighed 6 pounds when I brought her home at 8 weeks - over three years later, she weighs 75. Kenzie weighed 13 and 1/2 at 8 weeks! Her paws are as big as the palms of my hands. She is going to be much larger than Mattie when full grown. Mattie by herself is quiet, obedient, careful in the house. Kenzie is not. So, looking into the near future, I see a fenced yard of some nature. I hate to fence in my house. I love the wide open spaces. But two German Shepherds who look exactly like black wolves running loose is a bad thing in cattle country.
Stupid old woman! Not smart at all. If I had discussed the corral idea with a smart person - someone at least incrementally smarter than either myself or the fence guy, I might not be slogging through 6" deep mud and cussing myself blue in the face day and night on the way to and from the barn!
If I had the benefit of serious adult feedback, I may have avoided the overpowering allure of a puppy at this time in my life!
On the other hand... I have never taken anyone else's advice on something once I have made up my mind. I just pay the price for being stupidly stubborn.
 |
| With such large ears, you would think they could locate without turning their head. First left... |
