Farewell To An Old Friend

Rocky was my tuxedo cat, seen here curled up on his favorite bed, the big green floor pillow. I got him as a kitten in 2002, or at least that is my oldest record. That made him at least 16 years old in 2018:

 He was a friendly cat, not given to causing trouble or being overly shy. He was a friend at all times:


 As you can see, he loved both dogs and other cats, and appeared in many of my kitchen corner pictures:

I hadn't noticed until I collected these photos, but he sure liked that spot on his green floor pillow:

 Back on the same spot:

 This time with Fergus and Clover:

 Rocky began to appear older this winter, sometimes yowling for unknown reasons and sometimes peeing in corners:

 And eventually he stopped eating and began to lose weight. I rushed him to the vet, who said he was dehydrated (and old), and sent me home to give him subcutaneous fluids and try to tempt him to eat. I tried tuna, meat flavored baby food, dry cat food and many flavors and brands of canned cat food. I even cooked him ground turkey with beef broth. He tasted things, then went back to his bed in the guest bedroom. I let him out occasionally to see his friends, which seemed to comfort him:

 But it became obvious that his body was shutting down and it was time to say goodbye. I took him back to the vet and had him put to sleep. He purred and cuddled affectionately with me to the very end:

I moved a couple of hay bales and found some unfrozen ground where I could dig him a grave. Rocky was a beloved old friend, and even with all my other animals, I miss Rocky:

Snowy Adventure At Whiskey Flats - Part 2

The dogs and I were exploring a logging road in Whiskey Flats State Forest and had been forced to turn around when our trail ended (see also Part 1, posted yesterday). It was plenty cold and snowy anyway, so I was OK with turning back:

The logging road was old and filling up with Scotch Pine saplings. The dogs just bounced around between them without a care:

Jack and Fergus love to run, and you can see Fergus on the right in this picture, running so fast that his ears were flopping:

We took a secondary logging road which was parallel to the first one, but it was nearly identical, so it provided no new scenery. Jack continued to run full speed:

Even Seamus did some running:

There were some nice pine forests all around us but I was in no mood to set off through the trees without a trail. Instead, I stuck to the logging road:

The dogs ran for awhile and then split up to investigate interesting smells and pee on pine saplings:

Almost back to the power line clearing, I figured it had been a short but worthwhile hike:

My merry band of misfit dogs were having the time of their lives:

Before returning to our car, I decided to follow the power line clearing to look for the trail I'd been unable to find when we began, so off we went - with Jack running on ahead as he usually does:

And that's when the crisis happened. I heard some animal screaming and saw, up ahead, what looked like Jack killing some small animal. I hollered and hurried to get there, only to find my little Jack with his leg in a steel trap. Lest you wonder why I took the time to snap a picture, I already had the camera out and ready. Also, I figured I might need evidence in case of legal action. I pulled off my gloves and tried to open the trap, but a terror stricken Jack bit me hard. I put the gloves back on and opened the trap, but by then Jack understood that I was there to help him. As you can see, the trap was set next to a Woodchuck hole. I tried to remove the trap to throw it away, but it was firmly anchored to the frozen ground and I was in a hurry to get Jack to the vet:

We returned to the car and hurried back home so I could call the vet. After examining him, the vet said no bones were broken and Jack should be fine. He gave me antibiotic and pain killer pills to help him through the coming week, but by that evening Jack was walking normally and apparently had forgotten all about his harrowing ordeal. One never knows when a pleasant hike can turn to crisis:

Around The Farm

Ever so slowly, the grass turned green - and Blue is happy to see all that fresh food growing:

Remy is happy about it too, and the two of them wander around, clipping the grass and not allowing it to grow taller. The grass is beginning to win, though, and getting longer by the day:

The lawn is growing too, and I had to clean up all the soggy old hay which had fallen during the winter when I was unwrapping bales:

And when the spilled hay was cleaned up, I removed rocks and smoothed out the place where the 88 big, round hay bales had been stored. I won't seed it, but rather wait for the grass to grow naturally:


I called the large animal vet to come look at Violet. He said he'd be out in the afternoon, so I called the cows in for grain and then trapped Violet inside the barn. She was nervous, and we had to wait for several hours for the vet to arrive:

I got her in the squeeze chute when he arrived and he checked for a mummified calf. He wasn't sure that was what he felt, but he assured me it was not a viable calf. In addition, he felt two large, fatty tumors inside her:

The tumors might not be troublesome, but they also might be caused by Bovine Leukosis Virus, which could have caused the tumors. He took a blood sample to test for the virus but the results were negative. He also gave Violet a hormone injection to cause her to abort the mummified fetus, if indeed that's what was in there, but so far I've seen nothing. Stay tuned for further developments

On a happier note, I caught Amy nuzzling and licking Blue. I watched for some time and decided that they were truly displaying affection:

Also, the apple blossoms began to pop at the end of April. I hope I'll soon be posting photos of the apple grove in full bloom:

Our Daffodils also began to bloom at the end of April. I know that seems much delayed to people in warmer climates, but spring comes late to the north country:

It was only in the 50s (F), but Blue and Remy thought it was a bit too warm and lounged in the shade of the barn. They still have their winter coats but are shedding rapidly:

Now confined to the barn at all times, I'm sure the chickens miss their free roaming days - and the foxes miss their easy meals. I will soon have to let the hens out once, however, so I can clean their room:

Remy's And Blue's Excellent Adventures

Remy always was the extrovert of the two, strutting his stuff wherever he went:

Blue is shy and likes to hang out with the placid Red Poll girls:

But the two little horses play together, often vigorously. In fact they are seldom separated:

One rainy day I could find neither cows nor horses. Worried, I walked out into the wet pasture to find them. I found the cattle, hiding beneath some trees. But there were no horses. I began to worry:

But a few more steps revealed Blue and Remy, both soaking wet, standing behind the cows:

I tried to coax Remy back into the barn, knowing that Blue would follow, but he wanted no part of it:

And one day the vet arrived to geld (neuter) both boys and give them their vaccinations. Remy was first, requiring extra sedative and flying backwards, landing on his back when the anesthetic took effect. He required more sedative to keep him unconscious, but the vet got the job done:

Then it was Blue's turn. He required very little anesthetic and it took him longer to come out of it:

Afterwards, they were a sorry looking pair:

I kept them indoors for the first night. Since I didn't have any hay left, I hauled in armloads of green grass:

Both horses refused to eat any grain with antibiotic powder on it. Even with maple syrup on top, they still refused. Eventually, though, all was fine. Now I own two geldings instead of two stallions: