Camp...

 When I was a little kid I wanted to go to summer camp.  My best friend did, and she'd come home filled with stories of swimming, playing tennis, riding horses and making new best friends. I was wildly jealous. My mother didn't want me to go to camp. She said I'd have just as much fun at home. And I did have fun... long, lovely summers, swimming in our pool, going for ice cream, reading book after book, but I still yearned for camp.

Fast forward a lot of years when I was grown and my child was grown, and I heard about Wag It Camp.  A place where people would go for a few days with their dog, and enjoy going to a variety of training sessions, swimming in a lovely lake, and enjoying the camp experience, but with their favorite dog and new dog-loving friends.  It sounded like a lot of fun. I didn't have a dog that would enjoy such an event, but thought that if I ever did, I sure would like to go to Wag It.

Then Bravo came to FairWinds. And for the last two summers we have splurged and gone to camp. It means taking time off work, leaving Chris and Rachel to take on all my chores, and paying for the privilege of a small vacation. It is SO worth it!

The place is beautiful. It is a Catholic summer camp, planted firmly on the shore of Ossipee Lake in New Hampshire. The grounds are dotted with buildings painted stark white, each trimmed in forest green. There are walking trails, sports fields, a tennis court, a huge pavilion which must house many fun activities, archery range, stable, a sand beach, lovely mountains in the background, towering evergreen trees... it's pretty much exactly what you might picture if you imagined the perfect New England summer camp. And for 5 days in late summer it is a little slice of heaven for people who love to spend time with a dog. Or two.

Every day there are a multitude of choices of classes to take with your dog. And there are trials to take if you wish, to test your skills. We wished, and Bravo did well.  Below is a picture of him searching a course for a container filled with raw wool. There are other containers that are filled with polyester fiber. He had to pick the right one, and he did, in something like 15 seconds. We also did some fancy heeling courses, and obstacle course, and even did a water skills test where he had to swim through hoops, weave poles, and around a post, not only passing, but winning a placement!  

Three meals a day are provided. Nothing fancy, or terribly delicious, but three meals I neither had to cook or clean up after. Bliss.

I went to "Barks and Crafts" and made a fun toy... a squeaky tennis ball, wrapped in fleece, which is braided to add extra shaking joy. Bravo loves to shake his toys, and toss, then catch them. 

Here is Bravo with the slew of ribbons he gleaned. SUCH a good boy. 

My friend Rita, with her dog Marcus, and I shared a bunk house.  Bravo and Marcus have been pals since they were pups, and they played adorably every chance they got. Rita and I had a nice time together, sharing a glass of wine on the wide porch at night, sharing stories and watching the dogs wrestle.

The weather was hot, and Bravo and I went in the lake several times a day. And night. The night swims were magical... a group of woman (no dogs!)  bobbing in the warm water under a waning moon. Laughter and singing erupted. I can't remember the last time I swam after dark. Or spent time with so many interesting women. It was all just so very good. I was right when I was kid. Camp is amazing.

My little cabin room was cozy, and Bravo and I spent some quiet down time there. The days were full and busy, but relaxing at the same time. It is nice, occasionally, to have a change of scenery and tempo.  On day three I was grieving, "I don't want camp to be over." But by this morning I was ready to come home. I loved my time away, but I missed my husband and farmlette.  Bravo was ready, too.  After a busy morning today, I put him in the truck. He was dead asleep before I even cranked the engine. And he slept sweetly all the way home, only waking at toll booths, to collect a cookie.

On the last day of camp there is a "Camp Game."  Campers, with their dogs, divide into teams to accomplish goals.  When I was a kid, I was never very good at sports and such, and was never chosen first for kickball or any other team. When we divided up for teams at camp for the game, several people said, "Oh good, we get Bravo!"  I had to laugh.  I still wasn't all that desirable for a team sport, but my dog was!

Oh, we had such a good time at Wag It Camp.  It was everything I hoped for when I was just a little kid. And more. And there were dogs.

The new arrival...

Today was the big day.  Marion kindly came by with her truck and stock trailer, and we were off.  We had arranged to meet Abraham's new friend at the Park and Ride in Saco. They arrived right on time. Three cute little blond boys tumbled out of the truck, eager to show me our new donkey.  She hopped right out of their trailer, and with a little coaxing, hopped into ours.

The boys each gave her a big hug, and we headed home.

Once here she was happy to get out of the trailer.

We led her to the back yard, and Abraham called out happily.  Our new arrival, Sarah, dropped her head to graze, and wandered over to the fence. 

Abraham was enchanted.  Sarah mostly ignored him.

Marion brought a little something to celebrate the occasion. She's good like that.

The day was rather warm, and an ice cold drink after a long drive tasted awfully nice.

Feeling bold we invited Abraham into the back yard.  He was on Sarah like a bad rash. She objected. Firmly. We escorted Abraham back to the pasture. 

A few hours later Sarah went to the gate and asked to be let into the pasture. We complied.  There was some running, bucking, kicking and general mayhem. And then everyone calmed down. And had a snack.

Sarah is lovely. Tame and friendly and oh so sweet.

 Her previous person told me, "She loves to be hugged."

She's a red head and has a temper, and Abraham is walking softly. I hope that by tomorrow they will begin to be friends. 

It's fun to see two little donkeys in the pasture. Welcome to FairWinds, sweet Sarah.

Loneliness...

Abraham is lonesome.

The night Chanel died he called for her, waking us several times in the wee hours. He has never called out at night before.He's been very vocal ever since, calling at all hours.  A few days after Chanel was gone, a horse trailer drove past, and the horse inside whinnied. Abraham came flying towards the trailer, braying his loudest, most urgent call. Then he CHASED THE TRAILER as far as the fence would allow.  Rachel and I saw this, and our eyes filled with tears.

So I did what I must. I got on line and began looking for a friend for Abraham. All the chickens have friends, as do the rabbits. The goats all have pals, the pigs and lambs do, too. It isn't fair that Abraham is all alone with no companion.  Here at FairWinds we don't like for anyone to be hungry, thirsty, or lonely.

I thought he might prefer a female. And a donkey that was similar in age to Abraham would be good. She'd have to be familiar and friendly with goats, and good for the vet and farrier. 

Currently, her name is Maggie. I'll be changing that. She is 17. Abraham is 15.  She lives in New Hampshire. Her donkey friend died in January, and she is lonesome.  So next week she is coming to be Abraham's friend.  Her owner will drive her half way here, and marvelous Marion will take me to meet her with her trailer.  Then we will bring her home.

I have read that it is important for donkeys to have a pal to live with, because they play differently than horses or even mules.  Abraham tries to play with the goats by chasing them and biting them. The goats are not amused by this.  I am expecting we will be entertained to see Abraham and his new sweetie playing... chasing, bucking, and then canoodling in the quiet hours.  I hope they will be very happy together.  We don't "do" lonely at FairWinds.

Farewell, Chanel...

She turned 30 in May. According to a chart I read, that is similar to a human being in their late 80's. Friday she began to limp. I gave her lots of pain medication and talked to my marvelous veterinarian. We made a plan.

Yesterday Rachel and Evans came to say goodbye. They brought a big bag of peppermints, and let her eat lots and lots of them. There was a lot of stroking and hugging, and inhaling her delicious, horsey, scent.

The vet came this morning. She explained to me what to expect. "Some horses do strange things, so be prepared. Some rear and kick." She gave Chanel a sedative, and I held her head, and kissed her a lot of times, and told her how beautiful she was, and that she was the best pony ever.  Her head became heavy in my arms. Then the doctor injected two huge vials of anesthetic and Chanel laid down, hard. I turned away as she dropped, but then stroked her face as her big heart stopped.  "Kind and careful to the end," the vet said.  It was a truthful eulogy.

The goats, lambs and donkey all came and examined her still form in the grass.  Abraham seemed to understand, and stood solemn guard for a time.

Chanel had been ours for 11 sweet years. I knew when I got her that we would be her final home, and planned to keep her until the day she died.  According to a friend of mine, many people send their old horses off to auction. I like to think Chanel had a nice retirement here with us.  She was an expensive pasture pet, tucking away hundreds of dollars of hay each winter, but I never begrudged her a bite.

We had some fine times.  She used to join us in the back yard when we'd have cocktail hour or cook supper out.

Sometimes she'd help herself to a sip of someones drink. Then she'd make such a FACE!

She was so good with all the other animals. Rachel's Pug would stand between her feet and bark at her for HOURS, and she acted like he wasn't there at all.  The adult goats would all run to her if something frightened them. The baby goats danced on her every chance they got. She seemed to like it.

We went trail riding at Acadia National Park,  and it was plain to see she enjoyed it. Her short little legs had to jog to keep up with the more elegant horses my friends rode, but she was as happy as could be.  Unusual obstacles like bridges or rivers didn't phase her, and people riding by on bicycles were calmly accepted. Babies in strollers were to be sniffed and examined, and then she would wait for the patting and admiration that was to follow.  She was unflappable. 

I think she loved me.  When she first came here, I'd try to kiss her velvet nose, and she'd jerk her head away and make a sound I learned meant, "Quit that!"  But after a while she not only tolerated my smooches but sometimes would walk right up to me and press her warm, sweet smelling nose up against my lips. She delighted in me scratching her chest, and would hook her neck around me, hugging me close while I rubbed her itchy places. She knew there were often treats in my pockets, and wasn't bashful about mugging me to try to find them.

We had some fun rides, the most memorable being the day we went to the beach. (Thank you, Liz!)

I don't think she'd ever been before, but she took the crashing waves in stride, and as we explored the shoreline she kept her head up, nostrils flared, taking in the sweet scents and strange new views.  When we were done I took her bridle and saddle off and led her back to the beach on a lead rope. She joyfully splashed in the water and rolled in the sand.

She was the fulfillment of many a youthful dream. A wonderful friend. A beautiful addition to our lives. I am so grateful to have had the privilege of loving her. Kind and careful till the end.

He cooks, and he KNOWS things...

Chris is the Information Technology guy at his work. He's good at what he does, and he likes his job. This spring, as they were planning their annual cookout, he offered to cook for the event.  They've had some unfortunate caterers in the past, and since he loves nothing more than to feed people, it seemed like a good plan.

I got to kiss the cook.

Yesterday he smoked 4 big pork shoulders, low and slow, all day long. The yard smelled amazing.  He pulled an enormous pan, heaped to the top, with moist, succulent, smokey meat.

 The party was to be held at a state park a little more than an hour from our house. We set off early to get things ready for when the co-workers and their families arrived.  There was a whole team of people there, setting up tables and games. A volley ball net was erected, bases put down for softball, there was corn hole, horse shoes, Frisbee's and more. People jumped right in to play.

 Chris provided the pulled pork, a big bowl of cole slaw, and he grilled hamburgers and hot dogs.  Other people brought salads, appetizers and desserts.  The weather threatened rain, but it held off till the very end.

There were several adorable babies.

 And a few cute dogs.

Rachel and Evans very nicely joined in to help. We were both so glad to have them. It meant a lot that they gave up their valuable time to assist.

It was a beautiful day, in so many ways, and Chris' cooking made it extra delicious.