Day: September 24, 2014

There are a lot of newcomers on the blog – welcome to you – and I get a lot of questions about the animals in my life, so I thought it would be nice to pause and offer an update. I get questions every day on the Facebook Page from people wanted to know what happened to Rose or Elvis – these are readers of my books – and I can’t answer those questions, people have to read the blog to figure out what is happening here.

It’s good to offer a bit of a summary, though. At present, I have three wonderful dogs. Red, an eight-year-old border collie, a working dog – sheep and therapy work. He is from Northern Ireland and has been with me for two years. Karen Thompson, a wonderful human and breeder read one of my books and decided God wanted me to have Red. So I have him.

Lenore is an eight-year-old black Lab, the Hound of Love, the subject of several children’s books. She was bred by the best breeder I have met, Gretchen Pinkel of Kee-Pin Labradors.

Frieda, a/k/a the Helldog is about 15 years old, she is a Rottweiler-Shepherd mix, she is the dog who kept men away, she has a wild backstory, told in my last book, “Second Chance Dog.” She is getting old, but hanging on. I credit Fromm Family Food with the good health of my dogs. None have gained a pound in years, they have no allergies, their stools are healthy, their coats shiny and rich. I believe Fromm Senior food has kept Frieda going into her 15th year. Fromm is a sponsor of the this blog, the only one ever. They are the oldest family owned holistic pet food company in America, they do not outsource their food, they have never had a recall.

Rose and Izzy died several years ago. Elvis the Swiss Steer developed awful leg issues and was sent to slaughter, he fed homeless people in Glens Falls for a year. At one time at the first Bedlam Farm, I had four dogs, 35 sheep, two steers and a beef cow, two barn cats, three goats, and a half-dozen chickens. I learned a lot from them all, but there were just too many animals to care for well or get to know. It was a clear sign I was losing my perspective, to put it mildly.

We have three donkeys – Simon, the subject of my next book “Saving Simon,” Lulu and Fanny. Two barn cats, Minnie and Flo. Four unnamed chickens. Eight sheep. This is a good number for us. It is easy to care for donkeys, and our other animals, we get to spend time with all of them.

Hope this helps.  This is a wonderful configuration of animals for Maria and I, they are all gentle and easy with one another, it is a Peaceable Kingdom. We work hard at that, there is a spirit about the farm and the animals seem to pick it up and share it with us.

Red, Lenore and Frieda are very different animals, but they all exist very comfortably with one another, and with us. We are lucky to have them.

Maria and I walked in the cemetery this morning, we met James and Roxanna Bennett, who died in the early 1800’s. I do not dwell on getting older, or on death, but I do think about it from time to time, as many of us do when we get so much close to the end than the beginning. It is a different perspective, the place where the young and the old can never really meet.

When you are young, you cannot comprehend death and mortality, when you are beginning to be old, it pops up in your head from time to time. This is, I think healthy. I learned in my hospice work that people who shun death and never accept the idea of it seem to have the hardest time with it. I wish to age gracefully and to die gracefully.

Death is a part of life, I don’t want to wallow in it or hide from it.  It is what we all share, where we and all of the living things we love will go. It unites us and shapes our lives. I was a police reporter for some time, and met death often there, then in hospice, then when I had my open heart surgery.  I am not shocked or surprised by death, it can come at any time, in many forms. In the intensive care unit, I went to this very beautiful place, I think death was waiting for me there, we had a meeting, a kind of interview – death was actually a she –  and we both agreed that I should return to Maria and my life for a good while. She was warm, not at all frightening or menacing. She seemed to care about me, even love me. Not yet, we agreed, so much still to do. Love is strong, she said, more than you know.

I want to write about that trip when I can, I can’t quite yet.

I loved that James and Roxanne had their hands clasped on their marker in an eternal embrace. I wish to be cremated, so does Maria, I’d love for some of me to be in a small jar in her studio so she can talk to me and yell at me from time to time. And love me, too.

Seeing this tombstone though, made me feel a little differently. I thought for the first time that it might be nice to lie in this cemetery side by side, in a loving clasp for all time. Maria could design something quite wonderful and strange to go on the tombstone, she could sketch us walking together or holding hands, which we often do. Maria laughed, and said she loved the idea of both of us ending up as ashes, dust to dust, being scattered here and there. So do I really, but I like James and Roxanna, I have the feeling they loved one another very much.

I loved their hands, I will remember this marker, it seemed to speak of the purest love to me.

Roger has severe rheumatoid arthritis, he moves with the aid of two walkers. In order to touch Red, he has to sit down on the weight machine chair and lean forward. Red, as he often does, seems to understand what Roger is trying to do. He gets up off of the carpet where he lies quietly during most of rehab, and he steps forward, so that Roger can reach him. He does not move too close, nor does he get too far.

When Roger is in position – it took him a couple of minutes – Red moved forward, into his hand, where the two remained still for a few moments, and then Roger got off the weight machine and resumed his work in rehab. Red has transformed the tone and feeling of rehab, everyone greets him and visits him in between their workouts. He treats each one differently, moving differently, waiting patiently for people to come to him. I do not grasp how he does this, or even why, I just marvel at his sensitivity.

I feel differently about rehab now, and I am not certain why either. Our connection to one another is growing, Red seemed to open something up. Today, the head of the hospital came in and was surprised to see Red there, he watched him for a few moments, was told he is a therapy dog. Keep him here, he said, all of the time.

And introduced herself.

My heart surgery altered my life, and in many ways. One of them is our morning routines, which have changed and evolved ever since I came home from the hospital. I am not quite able yet to haul hay and heavy things around – just another month or so – and so I mostly fill the water tubs and do some morning herding with Red. We are now feeding the animals hay, the grass is pretty well shot.

After the morning chores, we have breakfast, sometimes at the farm, sometimes at the Round House Cafe. Today is Scott Carrino’s birthday, I have to think of something to bring him, he is working all day. Like me, he doesn’t pay a lot of attention to birthdays.

After breakfast, we walk. Sometimes on Macmillan Road, sometimes – like this morning – through the cemetery. If we go to Macmillan Road, we bring Lenore and Red, if we go to the cemetery we just bring Red. We get up earlier, we do more. Then Maria goes to her studio to craft her fiber magic, I hit the computer to work on my book and post to the blog. I cannot say how much I love walking, and how grateful I am to be able to do it several times a day. My heart is grateful too.