Gobble!

From our turkey (George) and the rest of us at Ararat Acres to yours this happy Thursday......Happy Thanksgiving to all!

**note: George is especially happy because he is out in the yard, and not on someone's table today. He is an adoptee here, of course :)

Giving Away

A couple of weeks ago, we began our fall cleanup of annual plant debris. My dear Dad helped us tremendously by taking down the brown and withered vines of this year's crop of formerly glorious Morning Glories. I asked him to save me a few seeds to pass on to some of my friends who have admired them in summers past. These viney lovelies are grand, beautiful, and bountiful!

Some people even go so far as to call them a weed. A weed, however, is only a misplaced plant.....but I digress~ My Dad, ever the man to complete a task well done, provided me with THOUSANDS of Morning Glory seeds. If you....any of you, out there in cyberland.....would like some seeds from these beauties (or if you are interested in starting your very own pink spotted hawk moth sanctuary), please let me know, and I will mail you some of your very own. Just making the world a prettier place, one seed at a time :).

Oldest Pig on the Block / Ode to Piggy Sue

I was reading in the Dallas Morning News earlier this week that the "Oldest Pot Bellied Pig"(documented by the Guiness Book of World Records) had passed away at the ripe old age of 21. Turns out, Oscar lived just 1 & 1/2 hours away, in Dallas. Who knew??? In the article, the writer also mentioned that the normal life expectancy of a PBP is 12-15 years. This I did not know, and apparently, Piggy Sue doesn't know either :)....and I'm not going to tell her :).

Piggy Sue has been known as our "Grandma Pig" around here for the last few years. She is roughly 17. Piggy Sue was our first rescue when we moved up to this area 16 years ago. She had been living in an apartment with a well-meaning young guy who had followed the "trendy pet of the year" gang, and had bought her.....and had also bought in to the misconception that pigs make great apartment pets. Uhh, right.

Pigs are brilliant creatures, and can be taught pretty much any trick you could teach a dog (within their physiological capabilities!). I personally can attest to the fact that a pig can and does hold the ability to reason (I've seen it in action). However, while you CAN give a pig an education, you cannot take away their instincts. I will leave it up to your imagination what kind of damage a pig, whose natural instincts include rooting and nesting, could inflict on an apartment or house if left unsupervised. Heck, I guess you could say that about kids too...who am I kidding???

All this to say, we ended up with a sweet yearling piglet whom we renamed Piggy Sue (I honestly don't even remember her original name). And in the last 16 years, we have loved sweet piggy.

She's kept us laughing as she hung out with the other animals that have passed thru Ararat Acres' gates. In her younger years, she outraced Charlie in a footrace. (Charlie will never admit he was beat by a pig...he claims to have been tripped.)Piggy Sue learned to use the doggy door, could sit for a treat, and wore matching bandanas with her doggie peeps.

Piggy Sue can pick up on emotions almost instantly. When she was a younger pig, if a farm guest was afraid of her, she would puff up her hair and grunt menacingly (although harmlessly!), as though she knew she could convince the visitor that their fears were valid. Not! However, if a guest showed zero fear, she would be sweet as pie to them. Honestly, I think she got a kick out of making kids (and adults) think she was one big bad pig..... when she thought she could get away with it.

A few things we have learned about pigs:
Truly, given the option, they DON'T like mud, especially if it's cold wet mud. She would tiptoe out to eat and pee, and then go right back into her room.

Pigs have a large and distinctive vocabulary. Every grunt has a very specific meaning based on tone, pitch, and cadence. In a split second, I can tell you if she is happy, angry, content, hungry, territorial, in pain, or pleased with herself (just to name a few).

I am not a vegetarian, but I don't eat a ton of meat. Living with an intelligent pig has reinforced my belief that all animals deserve to live a dignified life in the surroundings that they were meant to live (ie- in a pasture with fresh food and water. NOT in a feedlot). I've just seen too many irrefutable examples that animals do have feelings, which do include fear and despair.

Piggy Sue has terrible arthritis now, and she sleeps most of her days away. A couple of years ago, we had to move her to a bedded down stall (we always leave the door open). She had decided that no old woman should have to go outside on a rainy cold day to go to the bathroom. (This did not jive with our belief that one can have many animals and still be clean folks.) On a beautiful day, she may come out and sleep in the sun. I think she has three teeth left. Because of this, her daily diet now consists of small food pellets and bananas. She loves her bananas.
I figure, in pig years, sweet Piggy Sue is roughly 96 years old. That's pretty dang old.....even for a sweet loveable pig.

Then and Now

In June of 1960, my father graduated from the United States Naval Academy. The very same day, he married his high school sweetheart...my mother, at the Naval Academy Chapel. I have been told it was a very quick ceremony, as there was a que of midshipmen and their soon-to-be brides ready to also tie the knot.

(the newly wedded couple, circa June 1960)

Since then, they have lived in California, Wyoming, Iowa, and Texas. They have raised 3 kids, and are loving being grandparents to two sweet granddaughters. They have loved, laughed, cried, and travelled together. They have grown old together. 50 years is not easy all the time.....but the best things in life are usually not.

(The family: 3 generations all together in one place, celebrating the 50th this past weekend at the USNA Chapel)

As Charlie and I pass milestones ourselves (we are at 18), it becomes so clear that only the strongest of hearts can survive as a team. He is the the strength to my weaknesses, and I am likewise his. I know my parents would say the same of each other.

Happy 50th Anniversary to my sweet mom and dad!

1960- 2010

Quoted

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which as been opened for us.

~ Helen Keller

On A Lighter Note.....

This summer we've had some interesting interlopers on our porch. Charlie first noticed these amazingly enormous caterpillars that appeared to feast on the morning glory vines that wend their way around our porch railings in the summers. These fellas are huge..almost as big as Charlie's thumb, and certainly larger than mine. They caught our attention and our curiosity antennae perked up, so of course, we went to work trying to identify our porch guests.

After some serious sleuthing (brown caterpillars are extraordinarily difficult to identify), we discovered we were harboring the youthful precursor of the pink spotted hawkmoth. The only way we were able to identify the darlings was by way of their dietary preference: Morning Glories. The Pink Spotted Hawkmoth is an enormous moth that is frequently mistaken for a hummingbird because of its darting vertical and lateral movements.

By an odd twist of luck, a few days later we happened to see one, AND I actually had my camera in my purse and was able to get some decent pictures. Additionally, I accidentally had my camera on video for a few seconds, so I actually got a quick shot of what their flying looks like. Enjoy!

Again

Sometimes it feels like I just get over grieving for one animal, when we lose another one. I know you must think I live in an animal cemetery given the number of animals we bury. And yes, most of them rest here in their earthen plots. They all have their own stone markers.... it is a peaceful place. I love them all, and I hate hate hate hate hate this part of my life where I have to say goodbye to my sweet friends. But I'll never stop loving and never stop rescuing because of it. Charlie says (and I so agree), the goodness of our helping animals and the joy in our lives because of it so outweighs this pain we feel when we lose one.

Sweet Earl. Earl the Pearl. Uncle Earl. Earl...aka Baby Huey. I believe he is nine this year. My how time flies. Earl was born at Ararat Acres. One of the few furry family members that has that distinction. He was born with a club foot, a structural deformity, that while not immediately life threatening, was a definite future threat to a long life.

See, there is this old saying: No hoof, No horse. Beginning when he was just a foal, we started managing Earl's condition. He wore glue on shoes (because his feet were too small for regular horseshoes) for probably a year. His structural defect lead to bouts of laminitis (for more info on that, click here) which got worse and uglier every year. Summers have been the hardest. Inevitably, he would abscess on a front hoof. We would go thru (every summer) a month of wrapping, soaking, doctoring, changing stall bedding (for he had to become an indoor horse during this time), etc. I can make the best duct tape horse boot on the planet.

Earl has been ever so patient with all of this, although he sorely misses his friends as he spends his days in isolation. This summer has been the worst. His episodes of pain have been so obvious. Clearly, we have been fighting a losing battle with a structural deformity that has finally gotten the best of all of us.

Regarding the Obvious (that was his APHA name). Earl. My mom always thought we had named him after my Great Uncle Earl. I never had the heart to tell her differently. We give all the boys their barn names of country music singers. Earl = Earl Thomas Connelly, Earl Scruggs, Robert Earl Keen, Goodbye Earl (that was actually a Dixie Chicks song, and our Earl was a much nicer person than the one the song referred to).

Sweet Earl. Always quick to befriend a new horse. Even Donkey Boy.

Earl. My problem child who frequently found unique ways to hurt himself. Doesn't every mother have one?

A redhead, our Earl. Being a lightskinned sorrel paint means sunglasses and protection for the sunburn prone areas. I am an expert on prevention of sunburn on horses now because of him.

Earl. Who was so sweet with all the foals we've had. We never had to worry that he would hurt them, despite their youthful antics. Frequently, he would join in their "reindeer" games. A great babysitter, our Uncle Earl, during weaning season.

Young Earl, who managed to almost scalp himself by running into a wood fence when he was less than a month old. He lay with his head in my lap while tears ran down his face. It hurt, I could tell it hurt as we waited for the vet to come sew him up. Proof that horses do cry.

We called him "one of the girls" simply because he was the only guy in the pasture, and he was good friends to all of them. Don't we all know a guy like that :).

He only unseated one of us one time.....( it was Charlie)....and when you step on a live electrical wire, it's only natural to buck, right?

Have you ever been licked across the face by a horse? No? Well, you should have spent some time with Earl. He was loveable like that.

Soft peppermints. Yes, it's wrong to give a horse too many sweets, but he sure does like them on occasion.

Sweet Earl. You were a tall man with a big heart. You are missed by all of us and you are loved.

March 2001 - September 2010