How Very, Very Sad

Poor Little Claire-Bear. How awful of me to take away your hay bed. Thankfully a clump of wool fell off the wool dryer so you could at least have a small pillow. I just don't know how you stand it sometimes.

I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon chopping thistles out of our neighbor's fence line. Not even a good fence will make a good neighbor sometimes. You would think a good farm dog, or at very least, Brushy, would come along to help. There seemed to be more pressing business up on the porch...ahem. Ewen McTeagle to the rescue! He happily followed me all the way out to the far corner and even ate some weeds as we worked our way back to the barn.

Now, he's not always so helpful. Tim was hauling one of five huge trailer loads of tree damage back to the large pond the other day. We decided to leave several piles of brush back there to help provide habitat for birds and other small critters. He didn't want the dogs following, so he latched the mesh gate at the end of the barn. Iris tried to jump over, didn't clear it and got her leg hung. Tim heard her screaming and ran back to grab her, but couldn't get her leg free. I was up at the house and couldn't hear him yelling for help, so he decided to let Ewen and Ewenice out thinking that Ewen would run to the porch and get my attention. This "looks good on paper", but those two ran past him and ducked right into the open hay stall. I can so see this happening - poor Tim.

All's well that ends well though. He was able to somehow get the entire gate off the hinges and carry it, with Iris attached, to the front of the barn. Luckily I soon stepped out on the porch and heard him yelling. Iris, unbelievably, was fine after we cut her loose. No thanks to the anti-Lassies.