Birds and Bees

   

Couple more days and I'm naming him. I thought it might be Minks.
I'm now thinking it may be Teddy (bird) Bart...
(From our Beyond Reason days we always said we'd send signs.)

     My mornings begin earlier than ever now that I have a new bird alarm. The tap, tap, tapping begins around 5:30 and the singing is incessant. I now have white dogs, a black cat, a blue (betta) fish and one red bird who, for reasons unknown, starts at my bedroom window and follows me throughout the house as the day progresses. (Oh, and let's not forget the 50 shades of grey goats. I'm like a walking Crayola box of critters over here...)

Boo ponders the bird.

     Re: the bird, responses have varied from "It's seeing its reflection" to "It's there to eat your bees" but because it goes from window to window as I go about my day, I'm convinced it's here to see me, so I shall continue to study it, speak to it, ask it why it's here, etc...(If it does more than sing, I'll let you know.) As to reflections in the glass, he's definitely seeing in as he gets annoyed when I turn my back or do something as to ignore him (as I did several times while on a call yesterday...ticking the little dude off immensely).
     I'm told he's a Summer Tanager (http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Summer_Tanager/id) and that he likes wasps (good news) and bees (not so good news, though I've not seen him on the bee side of the farm).  I do have wasp nests near where he is, so he is free to knock himself out (on wasps that is...preferably not my window pane).
     Meanwhile, if it is bees he's after, he's in for a smorgasbord~ My keeper was by two days ago to check the hives. Seems we have very happy bees, which should come as no surprise. They not only have a veggie garden in full bloom, but a lavender grove and wildflowers now in their immediate proximity. Seems they've doubled in population since arriving on my scene.We've double and triple stacked the hives and anticipate adding more. (Nothing like happy birds and bees amongst your flowers and your trees and your moon up above....and that thing called love!)

   
   

Mourning Rosey

           

            If ever there’s a reason NOT to have a dog…this day embodies that reason...Much as you work to protect your heart, there is no avoiding that gut wrenching pain that comes with saying goodbye.

            I confess I leave precious little time in my schedule on a good day; and I leave “zero” room for emergencies… (something I’ve got to work on), but such a change was not on the docket for today.

            With Rosey responsibly seen to (she was heading back to the clinic so the surgeon could examine her sutures under proper lighting and with the aid of anesthesia) I hit the ground running, feeling overly optimistic about all I could accomplish. The surgeon’s assistant made a second house call in as many days-- this time to fetch Rosey and haul her in. (No small feat just getting Rosey in a vehicle… Did I mention how much I love these people?)

            Like a single mother with a daycare pass, I had reconstructed my “to do’s” so as to make up for a week’s worth of work in a 7 hour window. With Rosey safely out the door, I commenced to checking things off the list as fast as my little heart would let me.

I met with my barn builder… reviewed layouts. We designed goat stalls and factored in well water. I spoke with trademark attorneys, scanning signatures back in time for renewals. I reviewed reprint numbers for a cookbook going into its 3^rd printing. I confirmed meetings with well pump designers, solar panel specialists and electricians.  I likewise confirmed a second vet to come take a look at Hics’s tumor. And before heading into Nashville for meetings I packed a cooler’s worth of veggies for stops I’d make along the way.

            With the bulk of this list complete I was finally pointed home when in rush hour traffic it hit me: “I haven’t heard back from the clinic…Sure hope Rosey’s ok.”

            The outgoing message said “Call us back in 15 minutes if we haven’t returned your call.” I had done that twice already. Just then it hit me: Ohmygosh! What if something went wrong? How many times have we heard of some “routine operation” going awry? My mind was now cranking as I heard myself asking, “Would YOU want to call you, Evins?”  It occurred to me that if the clinic had bad news, they’d probably want to tell me in person given all we’ve been through…The voice in my head said, “Why I bet they’re discussing right now just how to break it to you.”

For the past 72 it’s been all Rosey all the time; but in this last 6 things had grown suddenly silent. So what if I’d only called in the last hour? My mind, being creatively wired as it is, can go crazy with an idea like this; the wheels were starting to turn, doing a number on my head (not to mention my heart).  Raw panic hit me like a tidal wave.

            Despite the rules, I was texting and driving… “Could you please call?” followed by “Is there a problem?” I am normally an optimistic person by nature, but something felt totally wrong about this moment and for reasons I can only attribute to sleep deprivation I started to clutch.

            I called my foster dog friend who had recommended the clinic...By the time she answered I was a blubbering mess trying to explain my theoretical crisis. With no more business to distract, my mind was free to wander all over the place, and wander it did—sadly to places that under normal circumstances, would not have left me thinking my dog had crossed the rainbow bridge coming out of anesthesia.

            The sad news is, for a solid 45 minutes my beloved Rosey was dead.

            The good news is, “ecstatic” doesn’t begin to describe my reaction to the text that read, “She’s OK! She’s OK! They got really busy and forgot to call you back!”

            It was the strangest, most surreal emotional roller coaster ride I’d experienced in quite some while…all in a 45 minute window. Rosey had her own little NDE, only it was totally in my mind.  

I’ve heard of living every day like it’s your last, but living like it’s your dog’s last was a new one, even for me. (Surely there’s a country song in here somewhere.)  But you can bet your bottom dollar no one’s ever hugged a dog like I hugged Rosey tonight!