Thursday, February 20, 2014

Of Storms & Pups

         I promise I’m going to write about farming someday. And gardens. And cookbooks and cooking and canning. But now, in these days before turning the soil... in these hours set aside for planning the planting, I’m once again spending my days chasing puppies and watering goats, and (on this day in particular) hunkering down for what they said was going to be one doozie of an afternoon storm.

        (FYI/As as a comedic side note: I was, at one point asked if I would have enough material to sustain a blog each and every day. I said then (and it’s proving to be so now) I have oodles of ideas combatting each other like ninja warriors to be blog topic but today – much as I’d planned to blog about differences in my father’s and my uncle’s business styles, I’m setting aside about 5 other topics to once again, blog on – puppy wisdom.)


        Well, for starters, because we nearly lost 3 today…And because I’m so pissed at Rosey I just felt you should know the emotional rainbow over here has two ends (and no pot of gold on either, though there is plenty of poop to go round…and pretty much a  line of it underlying the middle, but I digress).

        Anyone living in Middle Tennessee today will attest: it was an unusually warm day. It doesn’t take a weathergirl to tell you, hot air on top of cold air on top of whatever air is coming next (mixed with the right amount of moisture) is a breeding ground for tornados. It struck me as particularly odd when I noticed Al Roker pointing to the region JUST East of Nashville (i.e. national dudes seldom pinpoint Gallatin, TN)

        Not one to dwell on fear, I am one to batten what I can, (cause let me tell you…It was one windy day.) My other focus?  (And anyone with large dogs will get this) “Which of these pups is gonna be scared of a storm?” (Cause for reasons that continue to mystify, it’s very often the largest dogs that wind up the scarediest of cats when a storm rolls in.)

        Add to all this the waking and very grateful realization that for every hour my pups spend outdoors, well that’s one less clean up task for me, and that’s my juggle for the day. Knowing some will fetch their pups this weekend, (meaning evening storms will only contribute to muddy puppies)…and… more night in the basement was definitely in the plan. While there, spotting the ones wired to fear storms should be easy, since I planned to be hunkered down with them myself if things got rough...

        Bracing for the fierce forecast, I let the pups go back and forth between basement and the great outdoors pretty much all afternoon, after all, they’re coming to love that particular spot on the drive where I release them each morning in what we call the “breakfast pen”. They have toys outside their door. Mats to sleep on…Plus, Rosey lives to hang there . . Until today when the drama set in:

        Come time to head to my 2 oclock, I realized I was 3 puppies (and one roaming mama) shy of securing my count, a dilemma that will leave everyone wishing they had the neighbors I have. As it turns out, one such neighbor landed all three pups under her car, thanks to Rosey, (lover of said neighbor) who had sauntered over, with 3 of her 7 pups, pide-pipering behind.

        The good news: everyone should catch up with their neighbors more often.

        The better news: it reminded me all over again how very much I am NOT in charge of my sagas, my schedule, my life.

        At the end of the day (and thanks to said saga) it allowed me to know that as far as these particular puppies go,  storms aren’t all that big a deal…These pups were not affected in the least by tornado warnings or even heavy rains. If anything unnerved them this tumultuous day, it was me…being out of sorts, in the moments I was out of sorts….

        Bottom line: tis "I" I need work on, once again. TVs and forecasters --not enhancements to my life (or my pups'), still and so, only I and I alone that can alter the real energies that drive my day's forecast.

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