Quick Notes

Not really much time/mood for a long post, and not a lot of photos as mom and I have been busy. Dad (as featured elsewhere in the blog) is in the hospital and is going to have heart surgery on a faulty valve tomorrow, so I am taking care of animals while Mom stays at the hospital until they’re done tomorrow. The dogs are confused, while the horses are surprisingly well-behaved. Hopefully they’re happy that I trucked a 10 cubic foot load of muck out as Mom couldn’t clean the barn for a couple days while they were sorting out where Dad would go for surgery.

Along for the ride Tuesday evening (my boss, the understanding Chef S., arranged a shift swap for me so I could start my “weekend” early) was Toby, aka Steamgoat. He’s currently spending the days staked out working on eating all the wood sorrel everywhere and spending the night in the Brenderup (we realized: covered, he can’t get out, warm, nothing can get in, easy to put in a haybag and buckets…Dad suggested using the little plastic mounting block so he could climb through the access door, too. It works!)

And the first night, walking him out there, we stopped in the barn to get hay. Mom held Toby while I fussed with the hay and horses, and we learned something: someone, somewhere, in a track barn in California or New Mexico, had a goat around, because fussy, attentive, typical TB Tice didn’t even look twice. “Yeah, that’s a goat. Where is my overnight hay? Faster, human slaves!” And no one in any of the barns Lucky occupied in Florida, Delaware, or New York had anything close, because Lucky was FASCINATED. He stared, he had to sniff noses, he was vastly more interested in Toby than in more hay. Probably because he still had some and he even deliberately crunched it by the stall bars so Tice (who is the equine vacuum cleaner and never has a scrap left after dinner) could hear.

No riding this week, and tomorrow I once again have to haul the canines and caprine back so I can get to work by 6pm. I swear, I need a bumper sticker that says “Yes, it’s a goat.” It would save people a lot of strange looks.


4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Cheryl
    Sep 12, 2013 @ 20:29:59

    Prayers for your dad!


    • The Author
      Sep 12, 2013 @ 20:38:34

      Thank you. The surgeon sounds very optimistic that everything should go well. The cardiac center is a ways away, though, so it’s a hassle for Mom. At least the horses are being uncharacteristically patient (normally it’s within five seconds of dinner time Tice is attempting to force his way into the barn before he STARVES TO DEATH. Tonight he wasn’t even hollering at me for taking too long with the buckets!)


  2. Bridget
    Sep 13, 2013 @ 10:52:51

    Jingles for your dad!

    And, that sounds like typical Tice. Things don’t seem to faze him.


    • The Author
      Sep 13, 2013 @ 11:06:09

      Lucky is normally like that, but apparently goats are strange! Tice was just like “Yeah, yeah, goat, WHERE IS MY HAY CAN’T YOU SEE I’M STARVING?” I wish I’d had a camera yesterday-he likes to toss his haynet around and he crowned himself with a bird’s nest clump of his dinner.


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