The Threat Is Always There

  The old dog has really been enjoying being cone-free.  His leg surgery has healed nicely so the dreaded piece of plastic has been put into retirement.  I decided to keep that thing knowing how many folks around here have dogs and how many of those dogs get themselves in some kind of predicament that requires a doctor's care.  The cone is still in perfect condition and may come in handy some day.  I carefully cleaned the thing and then pondered where to put it to dry.  I really did not want to hang it on the clothesline as the sun would make the plastic brittle and useless.  Aha!  A brilliant idea hit me!  Since the grandlittles will not be on the Bayou any time soon, one of their rocking horses could wear the cone while it dried.  It worked!  The horse now sports the "cone of shame".

  My brilliant idea seems to have had an ulterior motive behind it.  With Mr. PJ feeling better, he is starting to get more active.  Being more active means he wanders about the house a good bit.  Wandering leads to the kitchen, of course, and therein lies a problem.  The cat's bowls are there and like most cats, Ms. Nycto, always leaves a bit of food in her bowl.  Mr. PJ knows that and wants to "finish off" her leftovers.  Well, that just makes me have to fill the bowls (he drinks her water, too.) several times a day.  I am quickly running out of cat food.  So!  Another brilliant idea!  When Mr. PJ starts being a busybody, I merely tap the cone on the horse's head and Mr. PJ returns to his good behavior.  He still wanders about but does not touch Ms. Nycto's food!  Tap! Tap! Tap!  

  I guess the memory of the dreaded cone is still fresh in PJ's mind and he perceives the tapping on the cone as a threat that it could be transferred back to his neck.  Oh, Mr. PJ!  You are a funny dog.

Bonnie and Clyde

 A while back, I was given an old spring type rocking horse. The thing was in dire need of some attention as it's paint was peeling and the entire body was covered with a green mold.  After a good bleaching and repainting, the horse became the "darling" of the Bayou and acquired the name "Clyde".  Clyde was a good horse that never caused a single problem so he stayed on at the Little Bayou House since then.  The grandlittles adore Clyde and when they come to visit, they ride him constantly.  Other littles who come to the Bayou ride Clyde, as well.

  Well now...we just cannot have a Clyde.  With two grandlittles, we must have two horses.  I am sure that is some sort of rule somewhere.  So...we searched and searched until we fell in love with Bonnie.  Bonnie came to us scratched, moldy and with a bit of peeling paint as well.  In anticipation of the grandlittles  upcoming Christmas visit, Bonnie was due a makeover.   My past two days involved bleaching, sanding and painting the horse.  Now, she is ready to meet her riders!

  It has occurred to me that even with all the bells and whistles that technology has forced upon kids as young as two months, sometimes they just enjoy some plain, old fun.  The horses provide that.  The kiddos can ride and not be exposed to brain-rotting garbage.  Their imaginations can take them flying across the plains of the wild west or the sands of Arabia on these fine steeds.  As for me?  I do not mind this sort of pet!  They do not need feeding and are quiet and  well-behaved.  Loving it!  Welcome to the fold, Bonnie!  You and Clyde have a lot of entertaining to do for the holidays!

Just a "horse of a different color"

  Back in the spring, my brother was doing a bit of housecleaning and loaded up stuff to bring back to the Little Bayou House.  Canning jars, dishes and one pot were items that had found their way from here to his home down the lane.  One item that did not travel from here to there was a horse.  He brought a spring type rocking horse down the lane so it could be used by another generation of children.  The grandlittles will be happy to see "Clyde", the horse, when they visit.  So I gladly adopted the horse and welcomed it to the fold.

  Clyde was a bit ragged about the edges, so to speak, so he got a good cleaning.  Just so you will know, never use bleach and a scrub brush on a painted rocking horse.  The results were not good.  Most of the paint wiped right off that silly horse!  Now I definitely had a bit of work to do. The horse would have to be repainted before the grandlittles could ride it.  Well, one thing then another got in the way of the task.  Spring planting, summer canning, the fall clue hunt all took up more time than I had so the horse remained colorless.  Then, we got word that the grandlittles would be heading to the Bayou for Christmas.  Whoa, Clyde!  We had to work fast!  I did the only thing I knew that would save the day....

  I called Darling Daughter, Elizabeth!  She always manages to make everything right!  First, we discussed what the horsey should look like then we dove right in to painting.  She was on one side while I did the other.  After a bit, we swapped sides and continued work. She and I can work on the same project and never get in each other's way.  (I must say that Elizabeth does an incredible job painting eyes but, then again, she is an artist...I am a wannabe artist.)  After several days of painting and then clear-coating, Clyde looks so much better! He is now a "horse of a different color"!  Success!  Elizabeth and I had so much fun repainting the horse that we now wish we could find more worn-out rocking horses that need refreshing.  

  Clyde is ready for the grandlittles' visit.  He is beautiful and will be able to gallop in all his glory!  How fun for the kiddies and how fun for Elizabeth and me!  I imagine Clyde is having fun as well.  He has sat idle for some twenty years and will now hear the giggles of little children once again.  That must feel good even to a plastic horse.

Can I keep it?

  There is no denying that things change as you grow older.  Once your kids grow up and leave home to do their own things, the house seems a tad empty.  Gone are the days of toys left on the stairs, of  late night junk food splurges and of endless pets.  Yes, we still have cats...even some that are not ours...but gone are the days of kids "finding" poor helpless animals that need homes.  There was the time that Oldest Son found a little black dog on the side of the road and I heard "He was SO hungry, he was eating a stick!  Can I keep him?"  Of course we did and "Slick" became a member of our family.  There was the time that Darling Daughter found a tiny kitten with a broken tail and I heard "She bit me, Mom!  Can we keep her?"  Again we did and Ms. Put joined the crew. Funny thing about that cat was she was actually two cats.  Unbeknown to us, Ms. Put had a twin brother who decided the Little Bayou House seemed to be a nice place so he stayed...Mr. Tup (Put spelled backwards) was welcomed to the clan.  Son (the younger) was a wee toddler when we heard a puppy crying in the woods.  He and I rescued her from certain death as whoever tossed her out of the moving car had tied a rope around her neck.  This rope had become hopelessly entangled in the brush and the little brown pup could not reach food nor water.  "My puppy!" said the small child that was previously terrified of dogs.  I gave the kids an ultimatum with this one.."Give me ten reasons why we need another dog."  They were stumped at number nine until I heard whispering in the bedroom.  Out came three young kids with one pup bedecked with a large red bow.  "Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!  We got you a puppy!"  We kept "Little Orphan Annie" and she grew into a huge Great Dane mix of a dog.  Son was also the one who "found" a turkey.  Don't ask...just trust me on this one.  Son found a turkey who was welcomed into the fold as Mr. Tom.  The saga continued for some twenty years with cats, dogs, otters, snakes, rabbits, ducks, geese, squirrels, mice, birds, calves, chickens, turtles, frogs, a rat (not one I was too overjoyed to see...thanks Daughter!), possums and many others. You name an animal and, at some point in time, we probably had one.  I was never surprised to hear a chorus of excited voices chiming through the screen door with "It followed us home!  Can we keep it?"  The answer, although sometimes made without a bit of commonsense, was always "Sure, as long as you feed it and take care of it."   I figured that all this interaction with critters was good.  I miss those days...in some ways.

  Now it is my turn.  "I dunno!  I turned around and there it was!  I think I will keep it!"  Yep, I think I should keep this "pet".  A pony showed up unexpectedly at the doorstep the other day.  I am not sure just what I will do with this pony except keep it for the Grandlittles.  I am quite sure that they will know exactly what to do when they see it.  And I promise that I will take good care of it!  So...welcome to the family..."Clyde"!

  "Clyde" did just suddenly appear at the front doorstep.  I heard a ruckus outside and when I went to investigate, I found my brother unloading the pony from the back of his truck. This is one he had bought years ago when there were youngsters at his house.  "Here.  This is for the babies.  It might need a bit of a cleaning but it is in great shape for being nineteen years old!"  I had to agree.  The old rocking horse was, indeed, in great shape albeit rather large for me to store.  Space is limited in the Little Bayou House so right now, a tent left over from the last clue hunt has been designated as a "barn" for our fine steed.  As soon as the weather permits, a good cleaning and possibly a new paint job will be given to the pony.  The Grandlittles will have something new as entertainment when they come back to the Bayou!  

  "It followed me home, Ma!  Can I keep it?"  Sure....welcome Clyde.  You are now a member of this crazy, pet-filled home....even though you are made of plastic!  Whoa there , Boy!