Woodford comes to work.

For those of you who don't know, the beetle I work with has been approved for release into the great outdoors. Meaning; I got to move onto campus. Glorious!

I now have a big bright office (not in quarantine), a great new office mate (she's not quarantined), plants and a fish (can't have those in quarantine) and windows that can open (not possible in quarantine, either)!!!

We've decided to run with femalian urges and "nest" in our place of work, making the office comfortable, homey, AND dog friendly. She and I are both blissfully obsessed with our K9s, and are perfectly happy to coddle them over a child any day of the week. Luckily, neither of us actually have children.



Woodford approves!

A good horse is never a bad color

... but why can't the sweetest little dream filly be at least average?!



She's my new project, one in the herd of 20, at the auctioneer's farm down the road. Whenever Woodford and I show up, she walks over to me immediately, so I decided to start doing some basic work with her if she's gonna be there. She is responding at a rate so supreme I can hardly believe it! As far as I know, she's never been really messed with at all. A fresh canvas! I'm tired of nearly a lifetime of dealing with other peoples' horse issues. It can be very mentally and emotionally trying sometimes.

But anyway, about this little girl. For now I call her Tisket. Already I can pick up all four feet, she yields to slight pressure (i.e., moves away from pressure, not into it like instinct tells horses to do), and she lets me touch her anywhere I want (I can put two fingers in her mouth and rest them on her tongue). Just this afternoon at lunch I rode my bike down there with Woodford to see her. I stood at her shoulder, faced her butt, and lifted each of her legs up with a rope I had slung around behind them. That's pretty good, you know, for just being a yearling.



Love!

Winnie the ginormous poop

For the past 2.5 weeks I have given nearly every spare moment of my waking/non-working life to this dog and she refuses to:

believe my roommate is not going to kill her
be tired
lay down
be fully housebroken
be quiet
not try to kill my chickens
not try to kill the chicken coop(s)
play in a non-I-want-to-kill-you way with Woodford
stop bolting when she sees moving vehicles
not jump on top of parked vehicles (this one is embarassing)
quit putting every single personal belonging of ours in her mouth
not plaster the wall in her slobber
...and finally...
stop ruining my quality of life!

But, she's at least cute.



Her and Woodford playing in the backyard. They really do like one another.



She doesn't like being in strange places... even if it's pretty fall weather!



HounDiva