Heidi Ho’s blog

He woke me up at 5 AM to tell me about the back paw.  Boil burst, much licking and soaking, wrapping, feel better now???   Still, have to go in for surgery.  Sigh...

We call them "sock rockets".  Annoying little barbs that stick and scratch when you walk through the fields; cheat grass, grass awns, foxtails.

Gus hates them, too.  Over a week ago, he started licking his paws.  I saw a little blood so I took him to local country vet.  Shaved between his paws, poured a little alcohol on them and good to go.  The next day, they were swollen.  Got some antibiotics.  The next day, he was still licking and limping, three out of four paws.  Turns out, the sock rockets got into the bottom of his feet and have worked their way up and out the top, we think.  I took him to city Vet who shaved and lanced them while I listened.  She got one out and found more in the remaining good foot. He might need surgery on Wednesday if they don't come out.  I'm not traveling to Montana this week.  Oh, well.

This is Gus' adventures over the last three weeks until today.

As you may well wonder.  Roger is my former neighbor here in Mazama.  He was an amazing farrier/blacksmith/artist who created our sconces, fireplace door, candlesticks and hooks.  He was well known and well liked in the Valley with requests from all over the world for his pieces.  He was a gentle giant;  dozens of hummingbird feeders adorned his shop and he had several half feral cats as companions as well as faithful Ben, Dog's best friend.  As I sit here writing, I can see his Silo Condo he made for summer living quarters, his huge shop, falling down barn and little tiny one room winter cabin-  the one that he committed suicide in.

He died almost three years ago.  Last fall, walking through our property, I found an enormous horseshoe from long ago.  It was hand crafted and very rusty.  I put it in a basket on our front porch.  In March, while I was burning a pile of brush, I found another unusual horseshoe in the ashes;  probably used in the snow because of the spikes on the underside.  Two days later, I found another one while walking to visit my dad's burial site.  I got to wondering about all these finds;  I know there were horses here over a hundred years ago, but until recently, I've never found horseshoes. 

Yesterday, I went to see Dad and a huge boulder near his headstone had been rolled into the old irrigation ditch and there was a large rusty irrigation ring sitting there.  I asked Mister if he moved it and he thought I was weird.  He told me the tractor wouldn't fit there, so why would he move it?  Evidently, if it can't be controlled by a tractor, it isn't worth doing.

I think Roger is being funny, leaving pieces of metal around.  I like keeping parts of him on my porch. 

Had fun with the 'Phew and the Niecel on Memorial Day.

Dog and I went for a walk today in Kirkland.  We passed and sniffed seven, count 'em, seven water bowls set out by the friendly merchants for dogs.  They were not to our liking.

Lake Washington, however, held the freshest, bestest tasting water of all.  Plus, you could lay in it.

Big Water Bowl

I used to be the Director of Purchasing for Stuff I Really Need, but I have a new skill set.  Mister is in Vegas for a skin care conference (one of his companies is in the biz) and since he is also the President of our huge Homeowner's association, he emailed me to take care of his business.  Evidently, I have become His People.

We have a relatively well known athlete living across the way and he and his 15 year old looking wife are on the road.  His handler contacted Mister who contacted me to give them the phone number of their adjacent neighbors.  I of course dutifully called said neighbor with the weird request and said handler's phone number.

Is this how Hollywood works?  It seems all very strange and circuitous.  I don't think I like this new job so much.

It's all planned out.  I'll drive the Mister's tractor and Dog will pull a cart in next year's parade.  Some highlights from the 2008 49er Days Winthrop Parade.

Self explanatory....http://dailycoyote.blogspot.com/

CoZ

Shameful, shameful, so says Dog, if he attended the Tuxes and Tails Auction.  He did attend last year as a runway guest, and of course, they grossed $850,000. 

Tonight, we had our usual auctioneer woman.  The problem was-  she had surgery that went horrendously bad-  on her throat, her vocal chords-  OMG.  It was a total nightmare.  Think older woman with cleft palate sucking helium.  It really should've been a benefit for the incredibly disabled auctioneer, not for animals needing homes.

We grossed $730,000.  What the F....??????  Never, ever, in 22 years have we gone backwards.  What happened???  Could it be that nobody understood a goddamn word the woman spoke???  I think so.

Dog is sad.  I am sad.  Mister is sleeping.  It is not a good thing right now.   And I dressed like a pirate.