Day: May 9, 2015

We are still looking for a dog. One breeder is waiting for her dog to go in heat, another has a bred dog with only one pup, my sister has a nice dog who could use more attention. We are taking our time, waiting for some clarity. This afternoon, I think we should go to a nearby shelter and just look around. Red is the best imaginable dog for me, he is the dog I have always wanted, the new dog – replacing Frieda and Lenore, who both died this winter – will be mostly Maria’s dog, her studio and walking companion.

Lots of people think there is only one way to get a dog, I think there are many and we want to take our time. Maria misses having a dog acutely, and I just have this feeling about this shelter, this sense there might be a dog there for us. I suspect we will end up with three, that has always been a good dog number for us.

We have stopped putting hay out and started rotational grazing, time for a border collie to really do his work and earn his keep. In the morning, we open up the side pasture and Red- on command – moves the sheep to that pasture, sometimes he sits with them for a couple of hours, he circles around, gets behind them and drives them to the pasture. I take him out again to get them out and bring them back. It is always a beautiful thing for me to see.

Chickens have grown on me over the years, I’ve had them for a long time now, and I appreciate their sense of purpose, industry and gravitas. This morning a big bug landed on the back of the white men and she turned around quickly and ate it. There is no confusing the purpose of chickens, it is to eat, and then find some nice cool resting spots to retreat to and look out at the world. When we open up the coop in the morning – our chickens have the run of the place all day – the hens head right for the water bowl and tank up, then they scour the grounds looking for bugs and seeds. They are efficient eating machines, they scratch for food with their feet and their heads go up and down all day.

They are now part of the thread and fabric of the place, I can’t say I love them but I am fond of them. We stopped naming the chickens because so many were getting eaten by one thing or another, and since we stopped naming them only one has died, and that of natural causes.