Green Acres is the Place to Be

           

            As yesterday’s blog will attest, this day was cast before it began…

            Only you can’t really “cast” a day in the country. You can only, kinda start one and then hang on for the ride…

            I was given strict instructions to pick Rosey up by 7:45 at the big S&N (Spay and Neuter clinic over in Gallatin). Seems things pick up steam after 8, and by the looks of things, I’d say Thursdays are cat days.

            At the mercy of my friend with the truck and given that same said friend had cats in need of “fixin’” …we were two for two on the ol early morning drive to Gallatin heading towards a clinic where we could now be staff.

            In a scene I could only title “What a difference a day makes” …we arrived back at the same, said clinic, at approximately same said hour….only to find a line out the door looking lots like a Walmart day after Thanksgiving. There were cats in carriers; cats in crates; cats in little kid’s arms. Seems someone put out a memo saying “Today is get your kitty spayed day” and everyone clipped the ad. I’ve never seen so many cat people (nor have I seen so many cats)…It was a 180 opposite of Rosey’s check in the day before.

            Ever the co-dependent, simplifier in moments such as these, I hit the scene hoping to help, thus was doubly grateful when one of the staff whistled “Pssst…Hey….You~ Meet me out back”  which I did. . . only to be greeted by Rosey …all belly-shaved and druggy happy. Having swapped her ovaries for a microchip and a tattoo (seemed a fair trade to me) I was told Rosey refused their food, but she was plenty happy with the drive thru we managed on our way home J (I know. I know. The paperwork forbade this, but hey… Rosey spent her first night ever in a cage. Work with me people. Work with me.)

            Having blocked off my day to work from home, it was “Farm-ville 101” in the truest sense of the word as I used the day to catch up while Rosey napped off her drugs.

Catch up on a farm includes pulling crops, picklin’ cukes, freezing corn and basically stashing away all the produce one girl can stash between talking on my blue tooth and making notes for business meetings to come. (Yes, at some point I have to leave my little doggie /goat haven and head into the city to do business things…otherwise, dogs, goats and girls don’t eat)…But today was Rosey’s day to have her mama at home. At least I was able to check on her regularly and stop every so often when she’d go belly up to show me her stitches, reminding me that this was her day to be pampered.

Of Trucks, Dogs and Friends (Rosey's Spay Day!)

          I’ve heard it said you never want to own a boat or a truck, but you do want to have a friend with one~ I’m sticking with that one when it comes to boats, but I’m pretty dang certain you can never be officially country without a truck. But until I get there, thank God for friends as today was our day to get Rosey to the spay an neuter clinic one town over.

            May I just take a moment while I’m here to give a big ol shout out to the folks at the Sumner Spay and Neuter Alliance in Gallatin. If you’re considering this proposition for your pet, (and I highly recommend you do)...This is your place. Not only are the fees half what you’d pay in a vet’s office, they’ll update your vaccinations, and even (micro)chip your pet while they’re at it for a small additional fee~  They are, in a word the BEST!

            Trickiest part was getting Rosey in the truck as it didn’t take her long to determine that something was different about this morning. First she broke a lead; then she slipped her a collar…Then she took a nice long romp around the neighborhood before getting hoisted into the vehicle against her wishes. Nervous she might jump out the back, my friend graciously allowed her to sit in the cab with us which tells you what kinda friend he is given Rosey’s doggy-fine condition. (In addition to being 3 days into her heat cycle, Rosey also managed to tangle with a skunk the day before. Let’s just say there’s not enough Fabreeze on the planet ~ Oh to be “nose blind” for real. )

            Once there and paperwork complete, Rosey weighed in at a whopping 109, meaning TJ must weigh at least 150 if he’s an ounce. In one last ditch effort to avoid her plight, Rosey splayed her legs before entering the operating room, but to no avail. I left knowing she was in capable hands and that we’d done the responsible thing.

            I would get to do this same routine in reverse in 24 more hours. For now, my job was to release her into their care, and that of the good Lord. Rosey’s mothering days are done and for sure, she was the best. Rosey took to motherhood like a duck to water, but now was the time to be a good mama myself, after all birthing pups is stressful on a dog, and certainly a dog this size. When it comes to my Rosey, I’ll do anything in my power to keep her days stress free and happy, after all, I want my girl around for a long, long time.