Wednesday, February 25, 2009

city dogs/ country dogs

WHO LET THE DOGS IN?
By Jocelyn Hainsworth

We live a peaceable existence out here on the farm. Just me and the Farmer rattling around in a house foolishly large for the two of us, but built back in the days of kids and toys, teenagers and stereos, tantrums and hormones, when lots of space was a very good thing. Oh sure, there are times when we miss the kids, but there’s no denying that we have become accustomed to our quiet, laid back routine; our uneventful days and our boring evenings. We’re not at the hearing- aid-and-rocking-chair stage yet, but it seems to be the general direction we’re headed in.

We don’t have the place completely to ourselves, though. Besides the two hay-burner horses, and the hundred or so head of cattle, we also harbour numerous fugitive barn cats (a.k.a. “The Shredders” because that’s what they would do to you if you ever managed to corner one), and a couple of free loading dogs, Chubby and Sam.

As is the case for most farm dogs, Chubby and Sam live the good life. In payment for their diligence in putting the run on various song birds, digging great holes in the lawn to catch gophers, and howling back at coyotes from right under our bedroom window in the middle of the night, we buy them a lot of dog food. Sam is still young enough to run the excess off; Chubby, not so much.

They understand, though, that they are farm dogs. In exchange for all the food and freedom that a dog could possibly dream of, they also know that pampering is not part of their lifestyle. A bath for them is a swim in the dugout, a de-oderizing is a warning to stay away from skunks, and grooming involves a flea and tick collar during the pertinent months of the year. When summer thunderstorms roll in they can hide out in the garage, and when the temperature drops to below freezing they can sleep on an old chunk of carpet in the porch. It’s the good life - or at least it used to be.

One of our kids has gotten married and had kids: all the rest of them so far just have pets.

First, there was Fred. Compared to the usual size of dog we have around here, Fred is somewhat of an ankle biter - built low to the ground, and born and bred to chase things. 80% attitude, 15% hair, 5% dog. In the spring, right after his annual trim, he looks like a dog with a big bushy moustache, four legs and a tail. By this time of the year a person is not too sure whether he is coming or going, if you get my meaning, but he makes a fine self-propelled mop. He has an amazing amount of hair, but at least he keeps it to himself.

Which brings us to Tugger, daughter #2's Blue Healer/Boxer cross. Tugger is a three year old perpetual puppy. His energy level makes me suspicious that his food is laced with speed - or steroids - or both. His tail is at least a foot long, never quits wagging, and is made of titanium. One whack and you have a bruise, two and your leg gives out on you, three and you may be crippled for life. But the most endearing thing about Tugger by far is his hair; it’s short, it’s white, and he’s not very attached to it. Oh sure, he grows it, but after that it’s on it own - everywhere he has been.

Which wouldn’t be so bad if he was a farm dog and stayed outside, but he’s not. Fred and Tugger are visiting dogs. They get to come inside. A few weeks ago they even brought along daughter #1's boyfriend’s room mate’s dog, Willie, and all three of them camped out all over the house on their sleeping pillows while Sam and Chubby looked on from their place in the porch, pondering just how good their “good life” really was, after all.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

WEATHERING WINTER

People are starting to talk about this winter. It's not that we aren't used to cold and snow, but the "cold snap" we usually get in January turned up in mid December and has yet to leave. It's been a long, cold time of it. Well, I guess we did get a short break this week when it warmed up enough for it to rain an inch and then cover that whole slippery mess up with about eight inches of snow. Not that we're going to complain about the extra moisture to fill dugouts in the spring, but it's still not safe to walk or drive anywhere out there! Now it's right back to being very cold. At these temperatures I don't know how long it's going to be before the highways melt off the ice. Getting to and from work this week was a challenge, to say the least.

There are encouraging signs of spring being on its way, though. The one that made me smile this afternoon was the sunbeams on the livingroom floor. Good warm spots to place the big bowl of bun dough I was rising. That's what I did for my Valentine today - a batch of cinnamon buns. Now there's a wonderful comfort food smell for you! And, they are already half gone - I did give some away, though, and made a mental note to self "we can't afford that kind of calorie intake on a regular basis!"

There is also a big pot of homemade soup brewing up on the stove tonight. Glen's dad is very ill with congestive heart disease and, although he is managing to stay out of the hospital, the wear of ill health is starting to show on both him and Glen's mother. We'll take in the soup and buns tomorrow and visit for a while - don't want to play them out even further. I wonder if I'll be that independent and matter-of-fact when I walk in their same shoes? They're tough as nails.

I've also been leafing through seed and nursery catalogues lately, dreaming of greens, pinks, blues ... any colour but white! It's called spring fever and I've got it bad! Too bad that the Weather Channel is predicting another two to three inches of snow tomorrow, and another potential system drifting in after that. Oh well! It means water for the cattle and moisture for the crops!

Sunday, February 01, 2009

GROUNDHOG DAY

As ridiculous and unrealistic as the expectations of Groundhog Day are -that winter could possibly be over in another six weeks - even the most practical of western Canadians are cheering on this myth for 2009. It's nothing too unusual to have a cold snap or two per winter, but this never-ending 30 to 40 below grind has worn us all down. Although the sun is staying up longer, and today the temperature is a little bit better, the wind is howling across the prairies making the outside world a very inhospitable place to be. We really want some little rodent not to see his shadow tomorrow just for the hope it would give us that winter is on the wane.

Last fall we planned a great escape from the cold and booked a tropical holiday in Cuba for the middle of January. It was a great plan, and the money was spent, but we managed to be there for one of the coldest weeks they've ever had, I'm sure. We were there with some of my family and had a good time, and not every day was too cold for the beach because I did manage to get sun burned, but it was pretty darned cold considering how far south we had traveled. You always pack for one cool-ish day, just in case, but when half the week calls for long pants and warm jackets you start wondering whether someone moved Cuba when you weren't looking. Mind you, if we Canadians were cold, you should have seen the Cubans. They were nearly frozen.

The coldness of the winter has kept Glen busy feeding cattle. Food is their way of staying warm - their calorie intake is what keeps them alive so the calories have to keep coming. Other winters the routine is to feed bales maybe every second day - possible every third day when it really warms up - but I don't think that there's been a day that he hasn't had to feed in the last two months. If there's a bright side to the price of oil being so low which is causing the local oil industry to seriously bottom out, it's that he has not had to work all day on an CAT only to have to come home and feed cows in the dark. He is in the middle of a land-clearing job this week, but oilfield work is rare. I heard this week that out of 79 rigs in the area ( a lot of which were brought in from Alberta last summer) only twelve are drilling now. That's a lot of men off work. It makes me glad that Mitchell works in the agricultural retail field. His wages are not even close to what rig workers earn, but at least it's still coming in.

The town of Redvers was an interesting place to live this past week. Sunday evening a water main cracked because of the ground frost and the system lost over 60,000 gallons of water before it was detected and shut off. Then began the hunt for where the actual crack was. The water, of course, had taken the path of least resistance to the surface, leaving the site of the trouble pretty well concealed. Add to that the fact that it was 40 below and the ground was frozen solid six feet down, and you can see it was a painfully slow dig. The water went off at 11:00 on Sunday night, was briefly turned on Tuesday evening for people to stock up on "flushing" water, and for a few hours Wednesady night once they had uncovered the break and done a temporary fix while waiting for parts needed for the permanent repair, but we didn't get full water service again until Friday morning. Anyone who had farm connections left town, and those that didn't were looking pretty dishelveled by the end of the week. Now they are on a boil water advisory because dirt got into the system during the repair. What is it they say about a bit of adversity? Makes you stronger? Builds character? In Redvers this week, it sure made people smell stronger.

It is good to put January behind us though. A person doesn't want to be wishing their time away, but a little bit of warmth would be a welcome thing. The seed and nursery catalogues have started to arrive, and the girls and I were dreaming over them yesterday. Warm sunshine. Green grass. Even dealing with mosquitos doesn't sound like such a bad thing when the north wind is howling steady outside your door in January.