Things in general have kind of crashed and burned all around me this past week, so I'm laying low and waiting out the crud. Some days I've had to let the horses out of their stalls in increments, because Rock and Gabbrielle can polish off a flake of hay in two hours, while Lostine takes four hours, and Bombay takes six. I don't think Bombay has actually finished a whole flake of hay in two weeks.
The other horses fight over his leftovers. My daughter and I were talking about how animals have demonstrated that they can work together as a team to get their needs met. She told a story of an eel that worked with a fish to trap smaller fish for both of them to eat. Sometimes the eel would hide in a cave while the big fish herded the smaller fish into the cave. Then the eel would eat some fish and herd other fish back out to the opening so that the big fish could eat some.
I had seen Rock and Gabbrielle use a similar tactic. You see, normally, when Bombay has leftovers, Gabbrielle races over to his food trough to eat them as soon as I let him out of his stall. Then Lostine chases Gabbrielle away and starts eating his leftovers. Then Rock chases Lostine away, followed by Gabbrielle chasing Rock away, and the three horses literally go in circles chasing each other and snatching hay out of the trough at the same time. It's all very silly.
So, Gabbrielle figured out that if she lets Rock stand next to her and shares the leftovers with him, Lostine won't chase her away because Lostine is scared of Rock. It's really funny watching the two of them "sharing" food, because ultimately Gabbrielle just pins Rock against the railing and tries to squeeze him out rather than chasing him away. But Rock is so food aggressive that he just pushes her aside until he can reach the food, so they stand there bumping each other from side to side. But Gabbrielle won't kick at him anymore, because that chases him off and gives an opening to Lostine to come in and chase her off.
I had my daughter test out Siri on my iPhone by saying, "Hey, Siri" and seeing if she responded. Siri is only supposed to respond to my voice, but my daughter's voice is a lot like mine. Sure enough, Siri responded to my daughter. However, once my daughter started asking questions, Siri recognized that was not my voice, and she stopped answering. Kind of fascinating what tiny microchips can do.
The killer bee swarms are back. Another man was killed near here. My husband came racing into the house this weekend out of breath and clutching his chest because he had to run and hide from a swarm that passed through our yard. This is really putting a crimp in my ability to hike, bicycle and ride horses this year. Usually, I run into these swarms in the desert, but I'm really worried now that they are passing through our yard.
My leg has been giving me trouble off and on. I tried really hard to go for a trail ride on Tuesday, but each time I limped down to the barn, something happened to take me off in some other direction. Before I knew it, it was time to feed the horses their dinner and I lost my window of opportunity. With all the distractions and interruptions, I suspect it wasn't meant for me to ride. Since my leg was already hurting, I probably would not have been able to dismount. It's just that sometimes I get stubborn and push my boundaries in order to get my horse fix.
I was having some other health issues that collected additional symptoms throughout the night, all of which I tried to ignore. I took some medication that knocked me out and overslept. The poor horses and dogs looked lost without their breakfast. I rolled out of bed to feed everyone. My head was so hazy that I kept forgetting what I was doing. I had just handed out flakes of hay to the horses and was about to get their grain when I heard voices nearby. I thought, "Oh crap. I feel and look like hell, I haven't had my breakfast or coffee yet, I don't want to deal with people right now."
I limped back toward the house, figuring I'd give the horses their grain later, but I got caught. My neighbor was back in town and she called out to me. She had a friend with her and introduced her to me. They were full of happy energy and all perky. I was just teetering there thinking, "It's too early to socialize. Go away."
She had wrangled her friend into fixing something on her property that I refused to fix myself. She asked how I was doing, and I blurted out that I had the flu. It hit me right then that I actually do have the flu. I've had the symptoms for two days, but didn't admit it until then. I guess I didn't want it getting in the way of riding, so I pretended like this wasn't really happening to my body. My husband had come home from work saying he had a fever and he asked if I was sick too. I insisted that I was fine, but now my throat is on fire.
I had planned to tell my neighbor in person that I couldn't keep helping her, but now that I had the flu I didn't want to pass it on to her. She told me she needed to talk to me and to send her an email later on how much she owed me for the work I've done, and then she would call me. I'm sure she picked up on the fact that I just wanted to go back to bed right then. I gave her fair warning in the email that she needed to find someone else to assist her with her needs. She surprised me by not arguing with me. She just said she'd pay me and pick up her keys in a few days.
Now all I need is for the dogs to get over their poopsidents, peepsidents and pukesidents, so that I can leave the house for a few hours to have a doctor look at my leg problem. I figure that since I've already got the flu, I can't catch it from all the sickies in the doctor's office. The temperatures will be rising to the triple-digits soon, which means that I can't be riding my horses even if I have a good health day, so I may as well see a doctor and deal with all the laboratory and imaging appointments.
Our Chiweenie Scrappy hasn't been fairing too well. He's been on a chicken and rice diet, because he refuses to eat any dog food. He's also been struggling to walk, so I've been carrying him outside to do his business. I think he's 17 years old. We don't know for sure since he was abandoned. I had several false alarms before in which I thought he was dying, only to have him recover and race around the house like a puppy, so I'm giving him time. He needs to have his toenails trimmed, but I don't want to take him into the salon while he's in this condition. Not only do those ladies have to pick him up a lot, which hurts him if they don't do it right, but they would be quick to point out to me that he is sick, which I already know. They are the type to accuse me of neglect. I also don't want him having an accident on their grooming table. So, I'm playing the waiting game, treating him how the vet would tell me to treat him, seeing how things pan out, and then deciding whether to take him to the salon or the vet's office.
Midge's diabetes is still a little unstable thanks to the change of diet, but it's getting better. Stewie just refuses to eat the dog food because he sees where it got Scrappy. Mmmmmm. Chicken and rice. It's worth the wait.