Cutter

This is the best horse I've ever owned.  Hands down.  She was the first full sized horse I got, she was 25 at the time.  She passed away last year at the age of 31 due to kidney failure.  In the six years we spent together, we were the best of friends.  She was one of those special horses that just get into your heart and doesn't let go.  Every time I had a bad day or needed a friend to talk to, she was there.  All the other horses would walk away once they realized I didn't have treats or food.  But not Cutter.   She would stand there, let me hug her, brush her, talk to her for as long as I wanted to.  Its hard to put into words the connection we had.  I don't know which one of us loved the other one more. 

She loved little girls.  If a kid was out and I put them on her back, she would walk so slowly and carefully, as if on egg shells.  Once while I was riding her, she took a bad step and went down on her two front knees.  Any other horse I know would have rolled over and gotten back up.  But I could feel all the muscles in her body moving and convulsing as she balanced herself and regained her footing. With me on her back, she got up very carefully.  She knew I was up there and she took care of me.  Had it been the horse I have now, I know I would have gotten a broken leg out of the deal. 

The day she passed was one of the saddest I've been through.  It was peaceful though and almost touching in a way.  I came home for lunch and she was down and couldn't get up.  I knew it was time.  I just knew.  I called the vet who was very busy, but came out on his lunch hour to put her down.  (Note: always take good care of your vet and make them cookies for Christmas)  We had about an hour to say our goodbyes before he got there.  I laid next to her in the hay an stroked her neck and calmed her down.  It is an hour I will never forget, my head resting on her neck the whole time.  The vet arrived and she went without a fuss or a fight, with me by her side.  Thankfully, I was able to call a friend who came out with his skid loader and buried her at my farm that night.  (Note: always take good care of your friends with skid loaders) 

A month or so after she passed, I put a halter on my other quarter horse who was very close to her.  We walked down to her grave.  He stood there, took a big sniff, and let out one loud, heartbreaking whinney.  Normally a somewhat fidgety horse who doesn't like to stand still, he stood there by my side for quite some time, both of us in complete silence, heads hung low.

It hurt for so long, every time I would think of her I would cry.  I always knew it would be tough, but had no idea how tough until it happened.  It has been over a year now.  I am finally getting to the point where I can think of her and smile.  I remember the good times and am thankful for them.  So thankful to have had a  horse like her in my life.  So thankful I was there for her when her time came.  I think she was a once in a lifetime horse for me.  She taught me so much.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of her.

When animal lovers lose an animal, they grieve.  I suppose people who don't have a place in their hearts for animals find this silly.  But I understand.  And others do too.  When you lose a dog, a horse, any animal that you love, it can be like losing a family member to people like us.  So don't feel bad for feeling sad.  Don't feel silly.  Go ahead and cry.  Go ahead and grieve. And when you're ready, think back on all those happy memories and be glad for the time you had together. 

RIP Cutter, I hope to someday see you again dear friend.  

No words needed.  That is just a whole lot of pretty right there.  Summer rocks winter's socks off when you live in the country....

Thirty-something dating

I have never been  married.  This does not, however, mean I've never been in love.  I've had relationships that were longer than a lot of marriages.  Relationships that broke my heart as badly as a divorce can.  And I'm still alive.  Still kicking.  Having your heart broken sucks, there's no other way to put it.  (And I've broke a few as well)  The only bright side is that with each one, I've learned something from it.  I think this is important to realize.  With pain comes growth, and that is not always a completely bad thing.  With each one, I've leaned something about myself.  I sometimes wish I could go back and whisper in my twenty-something ear, "Stop trying to hang on to him, you can do better." 

So for anyone reading,  here are a few of the things I've learned:

You can't make someone love you. 

When you ask, "are you single?" and there is a pause.... before he says yes, he's not single.  Keep on moving girl.  

If you can't trust him, there's not much point in being with him.
 
You can't expect someone to fulfill all your expectations unless you clearly communicate to them what your expectations are.  Nobody is a mind reader. And visa versa.

Once a cheater, always a cheater.  If he had a girlfriend and was chasing you, he'll eventually do the same thing to you when YOU are his girlfriend.

A lot of it is about timing.  Yours and his.  You can be single, and still be in no shape to date.  Maybe you just broke up with someone.  Maybe you need to sew your wild oats.  Maybe...whatever.  If you're not ready to be in a relationship, take a break and get to know yourself before you jump into another one.  I think everyone should  be alone at some point.  It truly makes you more appreciative when you DO find someone who wants to be with you.   I know many people who jump from one relationship to the next, with no breaks in between.  And they wonder why it never works.  I'll tell you why.  Its because you don't  know who YOU are without someone else being with you at all times.  Being comfortable being alone is very important.  I honestly believe there are a lot of marriages out there that happened because of the fear of being alone.  "Someone is better than no one" is terrible advice and a terrible mind set.  You should be with someone because you WANT to be with someone, not because you feel you NEED to. 

You can't fix someone else.  You just can't.  You can help them, but only if they are ready and willing.  You can't to it for them. 

That giddiness?  That OMG I can't wait to see him feeling?  Thinking of him all day, the sweet texts sent back and forth.  Ideally, yeah, it'd always be there, and maybe it is to a point.  But lets be honest.  Most of the time the intensity fades.  Maybe after 6 months.  Maybe after a year.   This is when you really figure out if you are compatible.  Once all that wears away, you are left with two imperfect people trying to make a life together.  No one is perfect, and our fairy tail dreams rarely come true.  So don't get engaged after you've been together for 6 months.  You've got the rest of your life to be together, so don't rush it.  And expect some bumps, cause they're gonna come whether you're ready for them or not.

Don't chase a guy.  I mean yeah, show interest, initiate dates, etc.  But don't get in the habit of chasing him around.  If someone really wants to be with you, they will move heaven and earth to do so.  Don't waste your time on those who get a thrill out of the chase or just want what they can't have. 

I'll be honest.  I don't have a stellar dating record.  I've made a lot of mistakes.  But I rarely make one twice.  I haven't been on a date in about 6 months.  I have woken up in my bed alone for about 6 years, give or take.  But when I do meet a guy, I am much better at seeing both the good and the bad in him objectively.  I waste a lot less time.  I don't go on 10 dates before I realize we aren't compatible.  I don't put up with being treated badly.  I know who I am and what I want.  I know the things I'll compromise on and the things I won't.  I don't sit by the phone and wait for it to ring cause I've got a life to carry on with, man or no man.  This may all sound like a bitter single woman in her thirties bashing men, but it isn't.  There are good men left out there (hello?  are you there?).  But I think as we age, we know ourselves better.  We know what we deserve.  And to any of you singles out there, best of luck and don't give up or settle. 

Sometimes people tell me I'm too picky.  You know my only automatic disqualifiers?  No racists, no rednecks, no one who pushes their religious beliefs on me.  No one who is mean to animals.  That's it. Is that being too picky?  I think not.  As a wise woman once told me, "Its better to be alone than to wish you were."  Wise words. 

My Sharona!

Meet Sharon, one of my nearest and dearest of friends.  I love this gal for so many reasons!  She is one of those friends that you always have a blast with.  It doesn't matter if you're doing something exciting or just sitting around and shooting the breeze, we always end up laughing till our sides hurt.  One of the things I admire about her most is that she has an uncanny ability to treat everyone fairly.  Doesn't matter your race, your social standing, your age,  Sharon always treats people kindly and with a genuine smile.  This makes her a fantastic Public Health nurse.  And a pretty fantastic person in general. 

We knew each other, but not well, for years.  She was more of a friend of a friend than a friend of mine.  Then a mutual friend of ours got married and we were both in the wedding party.  One day, while taking a break from our bridesmaid duties, we went out to eat together at  A&W.  This  was the first time we ever really hung out, just the two of us.  And something  just clicked and we have been very close ever since. (Thanks for getting married Nicole!) At the time, we were both single and spent many a night out on the town together having so much fun!  Oh the times us girls had...needless to say, neither of us will ever be able to run for public office without paying the other one off to stay quiet and burn quite a few pictures. 

I love friends like Sharon so much.  Particularly when you are single,  you really learn to value your good friends.  I know a lot of people.  I have quite a few friends.  But few are on the same level as Sharon.  You've just got to love those friends who are on the A list.  The friend you could call in the middle of the night from jail.  The friend who will tell you how great you are when you are down.  The friend you know you can tell anything to.  I can count them on one hand.  And I am thankful for them every day.  AFF.  That is what my life is about.  Animals.  Family.  Friends.  That is what makes it worth it!

.....It's the principle of the thing. (part 2)

And then the day came.  Al gets his mail at work, so I was there the day the bill came.  In my office, I try to prepare myself for what is to come. While opening the bill, he declares, “oh this should be a great one!”  As he reads the bill, I see his face fall and he lets loose a string of accusations and expletives.  He just can't comprehend this!  How could this be?  As I listen to him spout off theories, it is all I can do to hold it together and not die laughing.  I did have to fake a coughing fit a time or two.  "But I was gone and the light bulb wasn't even turned on! I mean the fridge was running, but it was cold in the house and I never opened the door.  The water was drained and the heat was off. The bill should have been lower than ever!  Is the electric company screwing with me because I complained about the service fee?”



It is at this moment that I am thankful I didn't share the prank with Dad. He is very much enjoying listening to Al go on and on, but he also has no idea why the bill was that big. No doubt in my mind, had Dad known, he would have cracked a smile and the game would have been over.



A week later, Al tells us about this thing he bought that costs about 60 bucks (that's like a years worth of electricity!).  You can plug it onto your appliances, etc.  to see how much they are drawing.  Hmmm, no luck there.  Everything reads correctly.  Imagine that! I hear he and dad going back and forth and thinking of possible reasons. Al keeps circling back to the electric company hosing him over. At this point I can't keep the secret anymore and tell a few of my cousins. It was a very memorable Christmas, Al relaying his story over the dinner table, while those of us in the know gave each other knowing glances and tried to swallow our smirks and snickers along with our food.



Well, wouldn't you know it? The bugger leaves town again and once again puts me in charge of the birds. Repeat my actions all over again. And the same outrage at the bill when it comes in the mail. He is now completely bewildered and irate. Al goes to lunch, so it is just Dad and I. I can't take it anymore and spill onto the floor with laughter, tears streaming down my face. Dad gives me a look, I see his gears working. “Oh my god it was you?! This whole time?!” I fill Dad in on all the antics. It is entirely possible that I have never seen my dad so proud of me in my entire life. Not when I graduated. Not when I sold my first big ticket at work. Not when I bought my farm. He was beaming. We laughed and laughed till our bellies hurt. So with dad in the know, it was even harder to keep a straight face when Al brought it up, which was often. One day, Dad had to excuse himself to go down in the shop just so he could laugh before his insides exploded.



Now I love my Dad. A lot. But he loves a good story. LOVES. He did his best to keep it a secret, but ended up telling an internet buddy of his who was many states away. That guy told his secretary who knew Alan. And of course, she blabbed. So the gig was up. I have to say, Al took it like a champ. I think he was a little proud of me too, though he wouldn't admit it. I was afraid he'd be really really mad. I sheepishly told him, “I'm sorry Al. I couldn't resist. I'd pay you back for all the wasted electricity, but it was never about the money, it was the principle of the thing.” He graciously forgave me.



Now he has a nice new house that he built mostly by himself and there is even at least one light bulb in every room. (I think the kitchen has FOUR!) Every time I am there for any reason, I always leave a light on to let him know I stopped by. And the best part, now when he leaves town I am never asked to feed the birds.

It's not about the money....

This is my brother, Alan.  We are very close in age, about a year and half apart.  It doesn't seem like much of an age difference now.  But when you are young kids, it is like a lifetime.  As kids, it seemed he was always smarter, stronger, one (or two) steps ahead of me at all times. Everything I could do, he could do better.  He outsmarted me at most everything.  That said, I love him dearly and this whole story isn't really as mean as it sounds if you know us both. 

My dad, brother, and I all work together.  It is kind of a constant battle to "pull one over" on each other, in a fun way.  My brother is the hardest to fool, the slightest smirk or comment will tip him off.  Which makes getting the best of him one of the world's most rewarding accomplishments for me.

So let's backtrack a couple years.  Al had bought a small acreage north of town.  On it sat an old trailer house.  He lived in the trailer house for a couple years before tearing it down and building the beautiful house that sits there now.  At the time, Al was huge into conserving things.  Electricity being at the top of the list.  Now, I am all for conserving energy.  After all, I'm a flag waving liberal.  But when Al gets into something, he REALLY gets into something.  Intense is the word that comes to mind.

So after getting set up with the local energy coop, he was upset to learn  there was a fee for service every month, no matter how much energy you actually use.  I think it was about $35 or $40 bucks.  I live in the country and pay this fee every month as well.  He constantly complained that he only used like 4 bucks worth of electricity a month, so he feels ripped off to have to pay the service connection fee.  I always said, no, people like you are the reason they charge that fee.  I pay a LOT for electricity, so if anyone should be exempt from the fee, its customers like me.  Every bill he got, he would carefully inspect.  The slightest increase in electrical usage would send him over the edge.  Dad would ask how many dollars worth we were talking and Al would reply, "well, like a dollar.  But its about not the money, its the principle of the thing."  The lower the electric usage, the happier he was.  It was like a game for him.

Then he just went a bit overboard.  It got old.  He would be at my house and chastise me for leaving the TV on if I was not in the room with it.  He would ask why the light in the kitchen was on when I was in the living room.  "Dude, I'm going back in there in 5 minutes!"  I would say.  We were all tiring of Al and his obsession with electricity.  He was fond of saying, "I have one light bulb in the whole house.  I sit under my light bulb and read books."  No TV.  No computer.  Just the one bulb.  And his appliances, which were rarely used.

So one winter, Al decides to take off for a while and do some traveling.  He asks if I will FEED HIS WILD BIRDS WHILE HE'S GONE.  Now, there's taking care of dogs and cats, stopping to feed animals who can't feed themselves.  But he actually wanted me to feed wild birds while he was gone for three weeks in the middle of winter.  I begrudgingly agreed.  Then the idea hit me in the face like a glorious symphony.  It all became clear in my mind, the power I now had in my hands.  I was drunk with giddiness. 

So the first day I stop to feed the birds, I take along a 12 pack of light bulbs.  The old style inefficient ones.  The highest wattage his sockets could handle.  And I screwed them ALL  in.  Every last one.  And left them all on, all day and night.  Man, if you drove by that little trailer at night it was lit up like a roman candle.  If memory serves, I also took some stuff from my house and plugged it in.  A stereo.  A couple lamps.  And, as promised, I faithfully fed those birds. And the day before he was set to return, I took it all out.  He came home to the dark little place he was used to.  And then I waited....and waited....  I did not tell a soul what I was up to.  I knew it needed to be a top secret operation.  Loose lips sink ships.  So I didn't even tell  Dad, which was hard.

Tune in tomorrow for the rest of the story....Its a good one!

Meet...everyone else

This is Smidges, the first cat to come to the Copperbottom Ranch.  I couldn't love this cat more.  He is our great protector, always running off strays and never getting hurt in the process.  He's never been sick a day in his life. 

Back before all the cats were fixed I had a litter or two of kittens a year.  Smidges would always be so kind and gentle to them.  Once they were old enough, he would play-fight with them, playing rough but always making sure he was gentle enough to not hurt them.  I know they learned a lot from watching and being around him. 

As a kitten himself, he liked to sit on my shoulder while I did chores.  I could go for a mile walk and he would happily sit up there the whole time.  Anytime I was outside, he'd try to climb up my whole body to get up to my shoulders.  This was really cute until he weighed 12 lbs and I was wearing a skirt.  I have finally broke him of the habit, but if I pick him up, he'll still settle right in on my shoulder just like when he was a little guy. 

These animal introductions are getting a little old, so I'll hurry it along and introduce all the other cats as well. 

Marshmallow is pure white with blue eyes, a real stunner.  He was born at the farm and one of the few kittens I kept. 

Stumpy was born here as well.  He was born missing one back leg, but he gets a long fine.  He can run a lot better than he can walk, momentum is his friend!  He is very sweet, and loves getting scratched on the neck (on the side he's missing a leg).  When you scratch him there, his little leg stump shakes uncontrollably and it is pretty darn cute. 

Tips and Toots were kittens who wandered onto my dad's farm and ended up with me.  They were winter kittens, so they got to live in the house till it was warm enough to go outside.  They are particularly fond of Shooter, much  more so than he is of them. 

Rounding out the cat family is Stella, who I don't have a good picture of.  She is not as affectionate as the rest, I'm not sure why. 

Oh oh, and I almost forgot!  Here I thought I was done with the animals, but I forgot Bucky.  How could I?  He was the first horse I owned.  He is Dinker's partner in crime.  He is about 2 inches taller than Dinker.  He is more stand-offish than I would like him to be.  We're working on it.  One of the things with miniature horses, is that you tend not to train them as well as you should.  They do naughty things and they look "cute".  Whereas if a full sized horse did them, it would just be dangerous.  I think this is why ponies get a bad rap.  Yes, they can be naughty, but its usually because, as an owner, you let them get away with it.  I know I am certainly guilty of this with mine. 

Meet Dinker

Meet Dinker.  He, without a doubt, has more personality per pound than any horse I've ever met.  I don't even know where to start!  Measuring in at a whopping 30 inches and about 175 lbs, he has no idea he is small.  I honestly believe he thinks he is a big horse.  He is not afraid of much. He is brave, wicked smart, and a Houdini of sorts when it comes to halters, fences, and well, just about anything.  I can put a halter on him, turn my back for three minutes, and it'll be on the ground.  He'll never do it while I am watching though. 

I spent weeks trying to figure out how he was getting out of my electric fence.  Every darn time I came home he'd be out under the apple tree, munching away.  I'd go out, put him back in, look out 5 minutes later, and he'd be out again.  Again, he'd never do it while I watch.  I finally figured out that my 30" horse had been jumping a 4.5 foot fence.  Only Dinker. 

Once we went for a walk in the gravel pit and there was  big pile of gravel.   Wanting to climb to the top, I urged Dinker along.  He ended up practically pulling me up that hill.  While enjoying our view, he let out a big whinny that I took to mean, "I am king of the world!" And when it was time to go back down, he sat on his lil butt and slid all the way to the bottom.  Like I said, no fear.  I think he probably pooped sand for a week. 

He has a very advanced sense of taste as well.  His favorite food is strawberries.  He also enjoys the occasional sip of beer.  If I have a beer bottle, he'll come up to me, tip his head back, and form his lips into a perfect "O".  He will eat about anything at least once.  I try to limit his snacks, but it is fun to experiment.  I think this weekend we will give him some pop rocks.  I will try to take a video, as I expect this to be hilarious! 

He also enjoys chasing things.  Anything.  Dogs, cats, anything that dares to invade his pasture.  The deer like to jump the fence at night and lick the salt block and get a drink of water.  There is little more entertaining than watching Dinker try to keep them out.  They will work in a team, two deer at one end and two deer at the other.  The two distract Dinker while the other two jump the fence.  Then Dinker takes a mad dash at them, they jump out, and the whole thing starts all over again. I have a lot of coyotes  by my place, and there is no doubt in my mind that Dinker has chased them out of his pasture at some point.  He's awesome and one of my favorites.  He's been with me since he was a weanling and he'll be there for many years I hope.  He bit a friend's fingers a couple weeks ago, pretty good and hard.  I was very disappointed in him, as he usually LOVES company.  I was surprised he did it, then I asked if she'd eaten any strawberries lately.  She said yes, I just had a handful before I went out the door to pet him.  Ah, mystery solved.  :)

Meet Miss Billie

This is Billie.  I have had her since last fall.  I wrote a big bio for her, but it was ridiculously long and detailed.  So I'll sum it up by saying she's gorgeous, 16 years old, related to my old mare who passed away, and kind of a handful.  She's great at a lot of things, but is most definitely a better trained horse than I am a rider.  I rode her once last fall and it went OK.  I think if an experienced horse person rode her they would LOVE her.  She is smarter than me, and she knows it.  She'll take advantage of that when she can.  This is more of my problem than hers, and I am working on learning how to show her who's the boss. 

She's allergic to hay due to COPD, so she is a spendy horse.  (unknown to me at the time of her purchase) She can't eat hay, so now I'm feeding TWO horses senior feed all winter long.  This equals HUGE feed bills at a time of year that I am struggling to buy propane.  But what are you gonna do?  A forever home is a forever home and I do love the stuffing out of her.  She is nice and affectionate, comes when called, and follows me around the pasture.  I know she's got it in her to be a great horse.  I've just got to figure out how to bring it out in her, and we'll get there, I know we will.  Feel free to remind me of this when i get frustrated and make a post saying, "who wants a horse?"

And I have to say, is that not the most beautiful color of palomino?  Since I bought her in the fall, its been fun to watch her winter coat shed out and see the sleek, shiny, beautiful horse you see above.  I could sit in a lawn chair in the shade, drink a beer, and watch that horse all day long.  Some days that is exactly what I do. 

Meet.....ME!

So....this is me.  A much harder bio to write than for the animals.  I work as an office manager.  My second (and unpaid) job is running my farm.  I am also an aspiring caterer.  I have catered on and off for about 5 years and am trying to get my own little catering business off the ground.  I grew up in a very small town, the few children my age were all boys.  So as a girl I dreamed of little more than having a pony.  Yeah yeah, its every little girl's dream, I know.  My dad insisted it was a phase I'd grow out of....and he couldn't have been more wrong!  I got my first horse around age 25 or so. 

I had never lived in the country, but had always wanted to.  One day the then-boyfriend (we will call him Bob) and I saw this acreage for sale.  We had been together quite a while and were pretty well committed to each  other.  From the first time I stepped foot in that house and walked around the place, I knew it was home.  And Bob agreed.  We bought the place together three days later.  We had both always dreamed of country living, but it seems I was the only one who enjoyed it.  Long story short, Bob and I lived there together for a year.  For various reasons which I will not get into, it didn't work out and he decided to move back to town.  I was panicked.  How would I do this all without Bob?  After all, I am just a city girl transplanted into the country.  How will I do all the mowing?  I considered selling the place, but knew I'd likely spend the rest of my life looking for a place I liked as much as this one. 

Well, as it turns out, Bob wasn't as much help as I thought he was.  I was delighted to find that I could indeed do it without him.  It was actually easier....Bob wasn't the handiest of men and broke more than he fixed.  In the 6 years since, I have learned a LOT.  I can dig a fence post hole, assist with kitten birthing, trap a raccoon, put a belt on the lawn mower, build a proper bonfire.  The list goes on and on.  It should be noted that I couldn't do it without the help of my dad and brother.  They are awesome and always glad (maybe dad more so than my bro) to help me out when I am in over my head.  I don't think I could go back to city living now.  I like the wide open spaces, beautiful vistas, and bright stars at night far too much to go back. 

So that is how I ended up with a 7.5 acre acreage and a five bedroom house that I live in by myself.  It wasn't ever my plan to live there alone, but I couldn't love it more.  I always joke that I have enough bedrooms that each horse could have their own if we ever had really bad weather...

Meet Hollywood

This horse has the coolest "registered" name ever.  Normally the names are boring, including bloodlines and maybe the farm they were born at.  I don't know any horses that are actually called by their registered name.  But this guy's papered name is "Hollywood Eldorado."  How bad ass is that?  It sounds like a character Nicholas Cage would have played, back in the early 90's when he was still cool. Or some gangster or a character in a James Bond movie. 

He is currently my most "senior" resident, at the age of 29.  He is beyond his riding years, but he is a big ol softie and he is welcome to stay with me as long as he lives.  He was originally bought as a companion to my first full sized horse who has since passed away.  That is a story for another day, but a great one, as they were owned by the same family for many years.  They were sold and separated, and were reunited at my place years later. 

Nowadays he moves slower, looks thinner, and isn't quite the gorgeous horse you see in the picture above.  But he still enjoys life, trots to the pasture, and is a great companion.  Oddly, he was never affectionate towards me till his friend passed away.  Now he is lovey dovey and I am loving it!  When his friend (Cutter) passed, we were both heartbroken.  But we helped each other through it, as dopey and kumbaya as that sounds....I think he was the only one who missed her as much as I did, and we really bonded over it.  Anyone who says animals don't have feelings has most definitely never owned a horse!!

Meet the crew

Baker, caterer, animal wrangler, office manager, and now blogger.  Here goes nothing!  I am 32, single, and live on an acreage in Northwest Iowa with my critters.  I have named my farm the Copperbottom Ranch.  Expect to read a whole lot about animals, both domesticated and wild.  And a little of this and that sprinkled throughout.  I think I will start by introducing a critter per day. (This should give me material for a couple weeks)

Everyone, meet Shooter, my 7 year old Carin Terrier.  I love all my animals, but this is the only one I let in the house.  And we get to go to work together everyday.  Needless to say, we are pretty close and spend about 3 hours a week apart.  They say your dog picks you sometimes.  This was certainly true in Shooter's case.  When I met his litter of puppies, they said just find one you like.  So I sat on the floor and watched the other puppies play and romp around.  And then came Shooter.  He looked at me, crawled in my lap, stuck all four legs in the air and received his first of thousands of belly rubs.  Then he fell asleep.  NOW THIS IS MY KIND OF DOG I thought to myself.  He has proved to be a trust worthy companion.  Since he was a pup, he sleeps about 15 hours a day. 

But when that little dog goes, he goes! A little rocket of energy.  Its no wonder he needs so much rest!  He enjoys chasing cats, sitting at my feet while I cook and waiting for scraps to fall on the floor, fetching, sleeping on my feet at night, bonfires, sniffing around in wood piles, and running off to the gravel pit for a quick swim when no one is looking. 

I had wanted a dog of my own for a couple years.  My boyfriend at the time said no.  So when the boyfriend moved out, I got my dog and a better trade has never been made.  At my side ever since, I don't  know what I'd do without my little guy. 

That's all for today.  I guess I should have started by introducing myself.  There's always tomorrow....