At least it’s better than corn harvest. . .
Warning - Manic Run-on Sentences Ahead
The beet digger got into the final field - #4 on Tuesday evening. Wednesday was spent there, until the beet dump went down. One of our trucks hit the piler, breaking a belt. We were told that it would probably be a couple of days before it was repaired. I was busy wrangling pets, and sorting off a heifer to doctor while waiting for the phone company to come and install my new ADSL modem. I’m also doctoring Ty - since Friday. We had an emergency vet visit on Sunday. And a followup on Monday in between parts runs to Bridger (imagine that!), Red Lodge, Billings and Lovell. I really need to make a grocery run.
Ty seems to be doing better. I’m pulling my hair out with Sugar. I’m using a Gentle Leader with her. She is not thrilled, but I hope that we’re making progress.
This morning we thought that we’d “sleep in”, since we couldn’t dig. Then the field man called. He informed me that the piler had been repaired, and was ready to accept beets. I made phone calls and breakfast. The Baron ate and then headed out. I prepared his lunch. When I went out to the Mule I discovered that Rocky (the cat) had vomited several large mole and/or mouse parts all over the seat. I scraped the seat cover, removed it and tossed it in the washer to soak. With lots of bleach. I guess that it could have been worse. It could have been the sofa, or the bed. . . Then I brought the lunchbox out - in the pickup.
I just came in from bringing Allan some cocoa (sugar free) - and a pill that he forgot to remind me about. He was recently diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. Not a good deal for a Sugar Beet Baron. Or anyone else. I got back to the house with Lucky and Sugar. Ty is wearing an Elizabethan collar. Sugar was harassing him, so I put her in the kennel on the porch. Then the dogs went wild again. Jan had stopped by with her grandchildren who wanted to see the puppy. There was no way I was taking the Devil Dog out now. We’re all on the porch with a yammering puppy when Wyatt came in looking for a bandaid. He’d sliced his finger open with a beet knife. Ty and Lucky were in the house barking their heads off at all the excitement on the porch. Wyatt has now been doctored. I need a cup of coffee. Or maybe something stronger.
October 20th, 2005 at 9:57 pm
Oh, my goodness - your days are all full of such excitement and constant activity. Glad to hear Ty is doing better. My big excitement today was to teach Maggie to go in and out of the dog door. Got tired of hearing her yap to be let back in constantly, so took out the string cheese, and after a bit, she had it down. Thank goodness. Linn
October 20th, 2005 at 10:25 pm
Sorry to hear about the Baron’s diagnosis. (It reminds me of the joke about Billy Carter sending a bottle of Billy Beer to the Georgia State Agriculture lab in the late 70’s, and getting a letter back, saying, “Dear Mr. Carter: It is with deep regret that we must inform you that your horse has diabetes.”) Having gotten the same word from the doctor 2-1/2 years ago, I can relate. (It wasn’t a surprise: being a connoisseur of cuisine de junque, along with a six-pack of Pepsi-Cola a day habit, I figured I had it coming.) My condition has been controlled by medication (Avandamet, twice a day), and some moderation of my diet (eating more chicken and turkey, and cutting down on the fatty foods, along with drinking diet colas–which I’ve gotten used to). My only other advice is that he walk to wherever he needs to go in the fields, when practical–since exercise helps a lot. (And hope–as I do–that when the day comes when he needs insulin, that it can be taken as a pill or nose spray. My dad–who has had the disease for years–has to inject himself three times every day.) And make sure he tests his blood sugar three or four hours after eating–that’s the best and most accurate way to test. (He’ll get used to poking his fingers. It took me about three months–but then, I’m not a farmer.)
Get well wishes for Ty. Hope it’s nothing serious. A few years ago, My Massive Mangy Mountain of Mutt suddenly went lame for a few days. Suffice it to say, Daddy was worried sick. Never really found out what happened, but I suspect she’d been stung by a scorpion, as I had found a couple of little ones in the house. As for dealing with the little one, all I can say is good luck, as I can’t really give you any tips. (To this day, Sheba takes me out for a drag every day–when she’s not eating the house, that is.)
Hang in there. Tomorrow is another day. (My grasp of the obvious knows no bounds.) And remember, things will get worse before they get better–and who the @%$&# said things were ever going to get any better, anyway? (Being a naturalized Arizonan, I subscribe to the Pessimist’s Creed: In front of every silver lining resides an extremely dark cloud.
Kirk (who is going under the name of “azamlg” this evening–on my way to 2600 East Van Buren in Phoenix, better known as the luxuriously-padded Hoo-hoo Hotel)
October 21st, 2005 at 10:36 am
how is that Gentle Leader?
we were going to try that on ours… but decided to stick with her pronged collar. pain seems to speak to this dog.
October 21st, 2005 at 9:06 pm
Never a dull moment. Yesterday, I met a beet truck at the side of the road that had blown a front tire with a full load on and didn’t spill a beet. Tire pieces scattered for a mile and front end of truck a mess but driver and cargo fine. I’ll bet that was quite a ride. bonnie