I recorded a podcast this morning about the Open Group For Bedlam Farm and I took my digital recorder into the basement, into the cold storage room so many old farms had to keep vegetables cold and fresh in the winter. Red is almost always with me, and when he isn’t, he tends to pace looking for me. As I began the recording, I saw a shadow in the window – it had rained all night – and I saw that Red had tracked the sound of my voice into the back yard and over to the basement window. I went outside and brought him in, he lay down next to me, which seemed right. I’ll put the podcast up shortly.
Greetings from Lulu, Fanny and Simon whose ears are up and who are eagerly awaiting their morning carrots, brushing, and attention. They all have their eyes on me, and if I don’t soon put down the camera, I will get bumped and nosed in the butt. Their winter coats are finally shedding off. I haven’t told them yet that Ken Norman is coming on Saturday morning to trim their hooves. But they will know.
As near as I can tell, Flo has evolved in her life and chosen to retire as a barn cat. She spends little time in the barn these days, or even in her woodshed retreat. She seems to have given up hunting, we see none of the carcasses that Mother used to scatter all over the place. We never see her hunting or chasing mice or snakes. Mostly, she sits in her rocker or suns herself in the back yard or follows me and Maria around when we garden or do barn chores.
Admittedly, Flo had a tough life, she was living under the porch and hiding in the rafters in the woodshed for months before she revealed herself to Maria through the Studio Barn window. If you are an animal in need of attention, and you have your wits about you, you will show yourself to Maria and the good times will roll. Maria is Mother Teresa of farm animals, she brushes, cuddles, chats and ferries treats back and forth.
Flo studied the percentages and figured out there is no percentage in running around a barn when there are rocking chairs with towels on a porch that offers shade from the sun and shelter from wind and rain. Good food comes out in tins and there are laps to sit on and cuddle. She has to put up with a few dogs, but that does not seem to be a problem for her. I think she is now a retired barn cat.
Red amazes me every day. Fanny has taken a shine to him, and she comes over to him, leans over him and blocks his view of the sheep. This is how Fanny shows affection, she just leans right into you, she is increasingly fond of Red, who is not distractable when he is working sheep. So he just peers around Fanny’s leg. I think just about any other dog I have ever known would have long taken off, or at least backed away but Red didn’t budge, even as she got closer. Eventually, I worried that Fanny would step on his paws, so I called him off.
