Here's my crazy story of the day:
As usual, I began feeling fatigued after eating lunch, so I made myself a cup of coffee. The dog immediately announced her need to go outside. I sighed, took a few sips of hot deliciousness, and then took her out. I noticed that Rock was pecking at Bombay's fly mask, and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before he disrobed him. I took Midge back indoors and by the time I was done hanging up her leash and reheating my coffee, Bombay's fly mask was on the ground and he was stomping on it.
I debated whether to go outside to rescue it. I am so tired of having to hose it down and stitch it up. A part of me just wanted to drink my coffee, but I figured it would only take 30 seconds to rescue the mask. I noticed that Bombay was playing in the water trough, in addition to trying to pick up the fly mask, so I had to run out there before he dunked it. As I bent over to pick up the fly mask, I heard scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch.
Who goes there?
The sound was coming from a water trough I had just filled the night before that Bombay had been sticking his nose in. I looked inside to see this adorable face looking up at me. At first I thought it was a rabbit, but the fur was too dark. Then I thought it was a beaver. But we don't have beavers here. I looked closer and saw the long, bushy tail floating behind it. It was one of our large rock squirrels. These types of squirrels are somewhat rare to see compared to the round-tailed ground squirrels.
I thought, "Leave it up to Bombay to be the one horse who tries to rescue another animal."
I've noticed that he attracts wild animals, and he seems to have an emotional connection with them. I often see birds riding on his back.
The squirrel was doing a pretty good job swimming, but I knew I had to get it out before it drowned. My impulse was to reach in and lift it out, but I didn't want to risk getting bit and scratched up. I really could use some thick gloves that go up to my elbows in cases like this. I ran back to the house while devising a plan and grabbed my husband for his muscle. It's not easy to tip over a water trough with 75 gallons of water inside, so I grabbed a bucket. I really wanted a fishing net, but knew it would take too long to find one in the garage, and I didn't want the squirrel's toes to get tangled in it. The problem with the bucket, though, was that I'd have to get my hands in close, and I didn't want to get bit.
My husband told me to just help him tip over the trough. I was bummed about having to do that, because I'd been trying to dry out Lostine's stall for the past week. She's been peeing a lot and her stall stinks in addition to always being wet. We dunked the 75 gallons of water onto her stall floor, and the squirrel rode the wave out of the trough.
The poor thing was exhausted, so I suspect that we got it out just in time. It slowly inched along dragging its hind legs behind it. We thought it was injured, but once it came out of its initial shock, it scurried off on all four legs. A squirrel swimming in my water trough is a first in my book. Sorry, no pictures. I was trying to save a life.
There must be something in the air, because this holiday weekend has been crazy so far. My mother-in-law is in the hospital, my brother needs money because he's being evicted from his home and has to pay a moving company, first and last month's rent at a new place, etc., he's handicapped and has no friends or family close by to help him, and Midge had a grand mal seizure. It's been tough trying to complete a single task without another emergency falling in our laps. In the meantime, I've got the added challenge of my ex-neighbor being in town and needing to borrow things and talk to me. Too much is happening at once. I'm on overload.
We've also been having issues with various wildlife banging up against our front door at night, which gets Stewie growling and barking, which wakes me up. We have glass on our front door, so any light from inside the house shines out and attracts bugs, which attracts bug-eating animals like toads, who throw themselves against the door and sound like burglars trying to break in.