The Not So Fun Farm Days

     I can handle a lot of things.
     I can handle the stress of too many "to do's" and not enough time; I can handle the repercussions of having bitten off more than I can chew. I can handle the uncertainty of not knowing what I'm doing half the time, especially as it pertains to learning curves of gardens and farms. But what I cannot handle is one of my babies in pain.
     Ran into town for dog food and while there, caught up with a friend over dinner. I try to do chores later in the day this time of year as critters can go through more water than you expect and even if they leave some it gets hot and buggy rather quickly.
     Exhausted as I am from a day playing catch up and my kitchen still a wreck with pickles everywhere, I mixed bowls of chow and headed out to check on everyone only to find Rosey walking painfully towards me. Seems her sutures have gone raw and the area around them --hard as a brick. (Sadly they had to staple her after her surgery given her size, which means nothing dissolves, like most sutures these days. Nope. Rosey has one more uncomfortable follow up to go.) ... A call to the surgeon and I'm told the brick hard knot in her stomach is to be expected. (But hers feels extra large, which is weighing heavily and thus hurting her.) I'm told it's the body healing itself, and not liking the foreign feel of staples that have to stay in for a full 10 days. But the raw and agitated skin around the staples doesn't look like healing. It looks more like infection, and the fact that it's itching Rosey to pieces isn't helping matters. Between foreign objects and a shaven belly now with 4 day stubble, I can't imagine the irritation; heck,  I nearly clawed my arm off with that last bout of poison ivy. Thank God there was no cone of shame for humans. Even if there hadda been, I wouldn't have worn it.
     I bring Rosey in the house (from her house outside where I thought she was ready to be). With this many critters, you keep a supply of antibiotics on hand, which is what the vet recommended. Likewise as fortunate, given Minsky's recent ordeal, we now have puppy pain pills, which Minks gladly loaned Rosey to get her through the night. We're hoping she'll get a few hours sleep with no licking to give the antibiotics time to kick in.
     So it goes when you're animals are your family. They protect me. I protect them. We're a team. But tonight one of our players is wounded, which leaves me so helpless I can barely see straight. Rather than distract my mind with something stupid on TV or revert to cleaning or ironing as is my drug of choice, I get pills in puppies and puppies on pillows as we all fall asleep to the sound of chanting monks ricocheting off church ceilings. (As I type these words I hear Rosey snoring, which brings some small comfort.)