If you look at our dog Wendell you might not think much, he just looks like a boston bulldog, plain black and white with four paws and a round head like a little pumpkin. But inside that pumpkin there must be pages and pages of the Sears catalog or something because Wendell loves to bring things home from faraway places.
This happens when he gets under the fence and goes snuffling around the neighborhood, which is strictly forbidden so it only happens roughly three or four times a day.
Here are some of the items Wendell has brought back from his travels: stuffed animals (several regular teddy bears and a duck wearing shorts and suspenders and a little cap), hand tools, unmentionables, a slice of pepperoni pizza (still warm), a plastic Godzilla one foot tall, a carburetor, 10,000 balls (tennis, golf, and other sports), a new pair of socks (tag still on it).
Those are just some things. We don't have room to list everything. It is possible he is running some type of backwoods delivery service. We just don't know.
Anyway you might think a dog that has the nerve to snatch a slice of pizza that is still warm or a carburetor which somebody almost certainly needs, probably a large person with muscular forearms, you might think a dog like that would be very brave.
But that is not the case.
Yesterday Wendell was sitting in the living room and he started shaking and shaking uncontrollably, which is what he does when he is in the grip of a terrible fear. The farmer looked out the window from whence the horror came and there was a deer in the yard. More of a fawn, really.
And last week Wendell was in the barn and the farmer shooed him out but he wouldn't go which is a serious violation. "Get out, Wendell!" the farmer yelled, but Wendell just sat there shaking and shaking like the end was near. The farmer looked out and the tuxedo cat from next door was strolling through the garden. Wendell was pop-eyed with terror.
So you might think that a little dog afraid of a tuxedo cat and a fawn must be a terrible coward. But consider the case of Wendell and B.D., in which Wendell routed a bold, gigantic coyote.
So maybe he is both, a terrible coward with the heart of a lion and the guts of a burglar. And a traveling dime store all his own.
Friday, October 29, 2010
The Jammies Family is rather sickening because they always get a lot of attention in fact when the farmer sees them the farmer always says "oh Jammies, I love you, Jammies." Or, "oh, Bumbles, I love you, Bumbles." Not like Tangy for example where the farmer always says, "Tangy, get OFF!" or Maddy where the farmer says, "Will you PLEASE be quiet," or Jimmy, Jr where the farmer says, "JIMMY! Do not make me come and get you!" or Hannah Belle where the farmer simply bellows, "HANNAH BELLE LECTER!"
No with Jammies the perfect mini-Mancha and Bumbles the overstuffed doeling it is always Jammies I love you Jammies and Bumbles I love you Bumbles.
In this photo they take their adorableness to a new level by lounging in the pasture on one of our probably last sunny days. Bumbles, Jammies' daughter, demonstrates just how fat you can get by drinking mini-mancha milk, especially if you are an only child and your mother is Jammies the candy goat.
Jammies is bred to our cousin Pepe, Betty's blue-eyed son, and somebody already asked if the babies would be for sale and the farmer said, yes, they would be available for one million dollars each, two million if they have perfect mini-Mancha ears like Jammies.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Our farmer has been buying all kinds of fence chargers and they don't work like the old Sears fence charger that was built in 1974 and zapped like a charm until it finally gave out last spring. They don't make the parts for it any more so it went to the scrap heap. Since then there has been a Gallagher (PowerPlus! Good for 60 acres!) that wouldn't shock a flea, a Farmtek that would make you say "I think I feel something! There! That's it, isn't it?" And a Saaco that had enough juice to light the flashing light indicating that it was working correctly but not enough power to actually produce any shock at all of any kind.
Every time the farmer would go back to a different farm store and the farm clerk would explain why the fence charger didn't work, it was all because the farmer hadn't hooked it up right and all the voltage and amperage was flowing counterclockwise down the drain as if it were in the Southern Hemisphere where they have Christmas in July which would mean that it needed a better ground, with a minimum of 75 30-foot-long copper poles from NASA to work correctly.
"Oh really," the farmer would say. "Well how come the old one worked for 35 years with no problem?"
"Well," the farm clerk would say, and make a little French touche gesture, "they don't make them like they used to."
After the last episode the farmer said, "that's it," in complete disgust and now we have a charger that is rated to completely encircle Rhode Island three times. It is enough to hold Laddy and will probably hold Tommy. Willen will stay if the other two aren't going anywhere. Anyway, if you find an old Sears fence charger at a yard sale anywhere, please email us immediately.
In other farm news something far more shocking has happened to Big Orange. Big Orange used to be a high-kicking bucket-launcher. She was the bane of the milkroom. She was considered the Mayor of Crazy Town until the farmer started working in the city and the neighbor farmer started coming over to milk Big Orange. Somehow the neighbor turned Big Orange into an almost normal milker. So Crazy Town will need a new Mayor.
Luckily there are several deputy mayors waiting in the wings to take office.
Big Orange's granddaughter Pinky has been started in the milkroom even though she is not a milker just to keep her off the ballot.
In this photo she stuffs her face while Jimmy Jr., Jimmy's wether son, wanders mistakenly into the milkroom. No wethers allowed, Jimmy. Beat it.