Revisiting Goodnight Little Henry

Henry and siblings when just a couple of weeks old. Henry is one of the smallest birds in the nesting box.


One of the favorite posts from one of my other blogs, "What I Learned from Daniel" was this one, which concerns the life and passing of a young rooster.    This post originally appeared there on November 1, 2011.




Those of you who are ardent followers of this blog may remember that two days before Daniel's sudden Autumn passing,now three years ago, that Daniel purchased a beautiful young rooster to watch our chickens. Daniel named him "Ross the Rooster" because Ross is a Rhode Island Red. Ross is still very much with us, and has sired about a hundred chickens and young roosters. One of those young roosters hatched about a year and a half ago was "Little Henry". "Little Henry" was the same size as his siblings as a hatchling, but very quickly, they surpassed him in size and in speed and agility. It wasn't long until we had to place Little Henry in a cage beside them,so that he would not have to compete with them for food, wouldn't get stepped on, could get water, and wouldn't be picked on by his more aggressive larger teen brothers. I did some research as to why Little Henry appeared not to be growing, and why he appeared to have a much paler comb than his counterparts and I came to the conclusion from references,and from the vet's suggestions, that he likely had a heart defect which would limit his abilities as a rooster and likely shorten his life. Most good farmers would have ended his life, but I never said I was a good farmer, and as long as an animal appears to be enjoying his time on Earth, in the warm sun, enjoying pecking the insects in the grass, and getting those tick eggs out of here on occasion, I tend to allow animals to eat and live, until they are called home. Little Henry has been doing rather well. He has been enjoying his life, periodically ambulating alone around the outside of the cages, basking in sunlight, and even seems to be gradually putting on some weight. Our plan for the winter was to shelter him more than his brothers, so that he would not be subject to as broad temperature excursions as his brothers would likely easily tolerate. With a heart defect, he would be more prone to pneumonia.

Last night, my husband brought little Henry into the barn, where it is warmer over night especially since we have had two hard frosts overnight the last two nights. He ate his grains and comfortably closed his eyes, as if to go to sleep. This morning, when my husband checked on him to consider putting him out again, in his neighboring cage, Little Henry had passed. Little Henry will not be enduring the long winter. He will not be here to bask in the sunlight of Spring next year. He will however, join a sister and a brother who passed before him, and a few hatchlings who did not make it into this world, and the sweet little rooster who never got beyond half normal size will bring joy to Daniel, who will be pleased to see the legacy of his rooster.
I am pleased that if Little Henry had to pass, that he did so, quietly and comfortably in his sleep. Goodnight Little Henry. I really enjoyed our time with you. Thanks for coming. Tell Daniel and Dad hello and that we love them too.

Ross the Rooster

This post was originally written on another one of my blogs "What I Learned from Daniel", in June, 2012.    Because it is relevant to life on the farm, I have reprised it here.

Ross the Rooster, and to the left, one of his three hens, who were all sisters.

          

      Two days before Daniel's sudden death, he and I visited a neighboring town, a distance away, to pick up animal feed and to select a rooster.  Our old rooster had passed leaving us with three hens who needed some protection when they free ranged.   Daniel picked a beautiful young Rhode Island Red with a nice nature, that he named Ross.  We carefully put Ross in a box and hurried to finish our errands, and then headed home so Ross would not need to spend too much time in a box.  Ross adapted quickly to the task of watching his three hens, and they accepted him as if they already knew him.
            Of course, Daniel passed suddenly two days afterward, and somehow Ross and his girls held together, even though we probably weren't as attentive as normal in those days of dealing with such a terrible loss, and an autopsy, which turned out to be normal, leaving us with the probability that a spontaneous heart rhythm disturbance in an otherwise healthy heart somehow took our youngest son.
            Ross has not had it easy.  About a month after we got him, one of our Labrador Retrievers, Sally,  picked up the cage in which Ross slept, and shook it violently.  When we found Ross, he looked dead.  All floppy and lying on his side.  We brought him into the house, and put him on his side on a pizza box in a warm place, and gave him gatorade. He lay there for hours, and eventually was able to stand.  He took three days to be able to walk and eat and drink normally.  We were thrilled that it wasn't yet time for him to join Daniel.   Ross is also incredibly courageous. He will seek out snakes and attack them, because I think he believes they are a hazard to his three hens.  There was also one other dog attack in the past four years, but this was not as severe as the initial one, and Ross recovered quickly.

This is Ross recovering from the dog attack of which we spoke.

 


            With his three hens, Ross has sired about a hundred hens and roosters, most of whom look a good deal like him.  He looks surprised when one of them ventures near his area.  He recognizes them as looking as he does, but does not seem to understand that they are his sons and daughters. One of his sons and one of his daughters passed recently, which is still very good odds for 100 chicks, all of whom made it to maturity. He is particularly annoyed when one of his sons crows loudly.  Ross is coming up on being about four years old.

These are a few baby roos and hens of Ross.

             About a month ago, a large fox broke into the coop where Ross and his three hens live, when they are not free ranging. The fox apparently grabbed one of the girls likely breaking her neck in order to grab her through the small space he was successful in breaking into. Ross and the other girls were bewildered the following morning. The fox was apparently so quick and aggressive that they did not know what happened. My eldest son fixed the opening, and later that day, when the fox returned and challenged him by growling and running toward him,(often a sign of being rabid) he shot the large male red fox.

             This morning, when our son Matt went out to check on Ross, something was wrong.  Ross was lying on his side, and although he could move his head and neck and his comb was still brightly red colored, he appeared not to be able to move.  My husband moved him to our barn sick room immediately, and called me. I am not sure what is wrong, but I suspect some type of an infection coupled with heat exhaustion.  Many times, animals will tolerate high heat well, but if they are ill, particularly with a bacterial infection, their tolerance for heat is poor.  We gloved and cleaned up Ross, who appears to be weak but not in any particular pain. I gave him gatorade, and then gatorade cut by half with water, when he seemed reluctant. I tried cooked oatmeal and the normal farm remedies. Ultimately, I gave him an injection of antibiotic which the vet has us keep in the refrigerator for such occasions.

            We continued to check on him hourly all day. We used a warming light to keep the temperature constant at the preferred rate.  We turned it off when it became a little warmer.  We have offered gatorade and water all day. For a time, he seemed a bit more alert and to be moving a bit better.  However, when evening came, he went back to a side lying position, and although he does awaken and his eyes and his comb look very good, I think he may pass overnight.

            Daniel, I am sorry I can't do any more than this, to save Ross.  At this point, my goal is to keep Ross comfortable. He has become very important to me since your passing.  He is the last pet you chose and named, and he has worked hard here to protect his hens and his progeny, and is a treasured farm member.  I told Ross tonight that I would very much like him to recover and for him to stay here on Earth longer, but that if he must go, to you Daniel and to God, that I understand.  I know that you will take good care of him and that he has a hen and some of his children there with you also.  I told Ross I will do my best to take care of his remaining hens and other family.

            Please say a prayer for Ross the Rooster.  May his passing, if this is what is to be, be gentle and easy.


Update:    Ross, the Rooster passed away just after 9 am this morning, June 24, 2012, at four years of age.    I noticed that he passed just after we placed some dried flowers on the grave of one of the other chickens nearby, and that when he passed, there was a momentary clucking and crowing of his progeny, as if in tribute.  I know I shouldn't be sad because Daniel has his rooster back, but I am.
               He was buried in accordance with our normal funeral practices for animals, in which the family gathers, we read some scripture, say some words and thank God for a creature such as this, and then we completed the burial with each of us gently shoveling before the grave is completely filled in. We completed it with a bouquet of dried flowers from the farm.

Updates on Jared

        

Jared, sitting by a warm running dryer in the Mud Room. The three fluid containers are lemon Gatorade, plain water and chicken broth.  The food nearest him are pieces of grilled chicken.

        I have chosen to share the continuing saga of Jared's health issue here, in the event that someone who reads recognizes an issue in their own pet, and is therefore able to put together their own animal's issue, and more intelligently seek veterinary treatment.
              In the last post I established that Jared is thirteen years old and that he has never had an appetite to write home about. He has always taken considerable effort and creativity to feed.  A couple of weeks ago, his appetite dropped off to almost nothing.

"No, Mom. Don't make me drink that !"

 While we made a vet appointment, he began with watery diarrhea.  Initially, the veterinarian staff thought this was simply the end of his life, but I reminded them that he looked well and was highly functional a week before and so this was an acute process, and not completely the downhill slide of old age. He did not move well as we took him from the truck to the vet.  They wasted no time in getting bloodwork.   The most rapid bloodwork showed positive for Erlichiosis, a tick borne illness which may be carried for an extended period. He may also simply have some antibodies to it, and may not actually be ill from it.  Usually, dogs who are symptomatic and positive are treated, and dogs who appear well, are not.  (Incidentally, German Shepherds with erlichiosis can become extremely ill.)   The vet did not wish to treat him at this time because she felt it would flatten his appetite even more.  The second issue was that Jared has a very low sodium, and a potassium level that was in the highest range of normal.  His other kidney labs were within normal limits.  They decided to test him for Addison's Disease, and so a Cortrosyn stimulation test was scheduled.  (Lucky for us, this was a fraction of the cost for a human test of the same type, which is thousands !)   When the bloodwork from the Cortrosyn stimulation test was back, it was negative for Addison's Disease, and Jared was worse.  By then, I was feeding him with meat baby food, salt, water, and proton pump inhibitors, until we had a better diagnosis, all through a large plastic plunger-styled feeding syringe. The vet was planning for intravenous hydration at home.  He was cooperating, and for that reason, I was continuing. Finally, I told the vet that I wanted to go ahead and treat him for the Erlichiosis, and perhaps also for a gastrointestinal parasite.  Shigella is part of the normal surface water here. It sits on the clay and has killed many humans and animals in the few hundred years since this area has been occupied.  Shigella causes death through dehydration.  Dogs of course, get shigella when they drink from puddles while running on the farm.  Humans get shigella from drinking what might look like a beautiful stream or waterfall, which might still be contaminated.  Both antibiotics began in an oral syringe, along with a little food, some salt, and even some mylanta between doses. (Mylanta will impede some of the absorption of antibiotics and can disrupt electrolyte imbalance when used in the long term, so we should avoid doing so, unless your veterinarian has ordered this practice or approved it for some very narrow band of uses during antibiotic therapy.)   Three doses of each later, (36 hours later) the dog began to eat.  A week later, he is eating better than he has for some time. He looks well, and I can barely keep this exuberant individual on a leash !
           The moral of the story is that anytime a dog has rapid onset watery diarrhea, treatment for shigella (also known as shigellosis) should be contemplated, if tests for worms or other obvious causes are negative. Also, we probably should treat for a positive canine erlichiosis test more often than we do, especially in large dogs who seem more vulnerable to it, than others.
          If you own, and love dogs, please read the links to Erlichia, Addison's Disease and Shigellosis, as above.  Our vets are all very good, but we are the experts in the environment and in the habits of our dogs. Our own input and observations are invaluable in pinning down a diagnosis, in a young, or even a very old dog.
         Jared continues to gather strength and to recover. He is really enjoying his life in what are likely his last years. This dog has lived with our family for thirteen years and was a beloved pet to our son Daniel.  Eventually, Jared will join Daniel, but it won't be today !



Later Updates on Jared:

http://lifeaftertherescues.blogspot.com/2014/02/jared-taken-today.html

 http://lifeaftertherescues.blogspot.com/2014/02/sometimes-we-can-hold-on.html

 https://rationalpreparedness.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-passing-of-valued-canine-friend.html


Prior Posts to the above with Jared as the subject:

http://lifeaftertherescues.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-story-of-jared.html

The Story of Jared

This post first appeared on my other blog Rational Preparedness, as certainly a healthy dog who is feeling well and is capable of watching the environment, is important.   I have also chosen to make it available to the readers here.

      

Jared

       In 1999, my husband and I occasionally rescued a dog or two just before our county's scheduled euthanization days.  Often, we would rehabilitate the dog and find it a new home. Sometimes, we would either experience a long term medical problem with the dog, which required injections or medication, and then we would keep him for his lifespan, here on the farm.   We don't do anymore rescues because now our county only euthanizes dogs with terminal issues, and because many other groups now rescue such dogs.  (We also have enough rescue dogs, cats, horses, and other animals to keep us, and our animal vets busy enough. )

             Jared is a Siberian Husky purebred who was rescued from our county's pound one hour before scheduled euthanization.  His story was that an individual bought a Siberian puppy and took it with him in his truck to jobs while working, and fed him through the Wendy's drive up window.  As the dog grew and became larger, he not only didn't really know he was a dog, but he became harder to handle while living in a truck. He was eventually placed at the pound.  Several families took him and found he either wouldn't eat dog food for them, or that he would howl incessantly or that their yards were too small for him.   Time was ticking and his chances were up. I was pretty confident that this beautiful dog, who was only about a year old, could be fairly easily rehabilitated.  We took him home, and were very attentive to him, and began to educate him as to the normal life of a dog who lives outside with access to a kennel.  At the time, our total lands on our original farm comprised ninety acres and our home was in the middle of that. . Jared howled so much that our neighbors complained !    Jared didn't seem to sleep outdoors, or indoors either.  In those first weeks I resorted to taking him for runs in the front seat of my husband's diesel truck, where Jared would nod off immediately.  When I parked the truck, he stayed asleep there. Eating was also a difficulty.  Normally we feed a good quality dry dog food and use a couple of tablespoons of alpo or a similar brand to encourage the picky eaters or to administer oral medications.  Jared wouldn't eat either.  We decided to let him go a few days and "get hungry", in order to put him on the type of food that was best of him both from a nutritional and dental standpoint.  I think he would have starved.  At that stage he would not eat. The vet couldn't find anything wrong with him and suggested we transition him from the Wendy's drive up window.  Jared enjoyed a single burger from the drive-through window. As I recall, he isn't a big fan of mustard, but is quite fond of ketchup and even the onions.  He also polished off the remaining chili chips and cheese I had ordered.  The young woman at the Wendy's drive through in Richmond was Russian, and she thought that Jared was an arctic wolf.  She was actually fearful as she gave us our food through the window.

Jared 

             It took several years for Jared to realize that he was a dog like our others, and that he could eat somewhere other than Wendy's.  Over time, the howling diminished.  Each November, despite the fact that we'd had him neutered, Jared would escape from our farm to run his own Iditerod of sorts.  He isn't very good at finding his way home, and so, if he gets out, we must look for him.  This can be challenging in a place where hundreds and perhaps thousands of acres are wooded and sometimes mountainous, and occupied by wild animals like bears and potentially coyotes.  Each year for three years, we found Jared, a great distance from our home, but we located him each time and brought him home. After that, he would leave annually, either from the kennel or out the gate, but these would be local trips. He knew where he lived and would cooperate in coming home afterward.

            Jared has continued to be a picky eater and stays quite slim. He remains a beautiful dog.
            This year, Jared is thirteen years old, and although he looks wonderful, we know that he is nearing the end of his lifespan.  We are supplementing his food with glucosamine and chondroitin which we purchase from Sam's Club, as joint and hip issues can be common with large breeds.  He saw the vet recently and there are no obvious medical issues.  He continues to be a picky eater and has a bit less muscle than he did in earlier years.
            I wanted to share with you some of the tricks we have been using to keep the appetite of our "most challenging customer".

      Although we try hard to adhere to the plan of a good quality dry food, as he still has healthy strong teeth and we need to keep these clean, we are doing the following things to encourage him to start eating.

 1.  Make sure that a picky dog always has a clean dish.    Make sure they have plenty of clean water, because a thirsty dog will often not eat.

2. Sometimes an elderly dog needs his tastes piqued by a small squirt of ketchup on the few tablespoons of soft food you place on the top of his dry.  (Get him his own bottle.)

3. Don't use garlic salt, but occasionally dogs will eat better or will be convinced to eat if you shake a small amount of garlic powder on their food.   (No crushed garlic or garlic from jars because this can give them diarrhea.)

4. Try not to resort to feeding "people food" as this is much too low in calcium for dogs and will cause difficulties in the long term.  A little on the top of a meal might induce your picky dog to eat.

5. Check any supplements you give with the vet before adding them.  Our vet is okay with our adding a glucosamine supplement which actually was intended for human beings.  We do it because we found a formulation that is cheaper and because we do this for all our dogs who are age 8 and older.

6. Never give a dog any form of chocolate, even ice cream.   Chocolate has theobromines which can cause lethal arrhythmias in dogs.

7. Don't give treats to a dog who is picky.  Give him affection instead.   Treats will cut down what he eats at meals.

8. A dog with a new onset lack of appetite may have a parasite or a new medical problem.  If this is the case, take him to your vet.

9.   Some dogs are very sensitive.   Make sure your dog food is fresh.  Look at expiration dates.   Some dogs should have a smaller bag of food they will consume completely in a shorter period of time.  Often, the huge bags of food are best left for people with multiple large dogs.

This was how Jared looked at about six.  He is thirteen now, and looks the same, though thinner.

               This morning I poured a half a can of dollar store mackeral over his food in order to get him to eat it.   Your vet also has some rather expensive high fat and high carbohydrate canned food which they will sell for animals who need to eat but are exhibiting reluctance to do so.
              May all your furred and feathered friends be doing well as we anticipate another Winter, and soon.

The Story of Daffney, the Duck

Daffney is the smaller white duck to the far left of this picture.

Back in the early two thousands when Daniel was a small boy, we bought some ducklings for him for Easter. We bought some ducklings that were Khaki Campbells, and some yellow ducklings which were to grow to be Silky Swedes. Daniel adored the ducklings. As they grew, the Silky Swedes grew to be larger and heavier. The females were white and the males were grayish white.  The Khakis grew to be brown, and a few of the males had some greenish head markings, which reminded us a bit of mallards. They were a happy bunch. There is something very satisfying about feeding ducks. They like bread crusts and slightly stale bread and muffins. Daniel and I used to buy a fresh bag of kale or collard greens and toss each piece to them. They enjoyed the greens especially. Originally, we started out with twelve but lost a few when some of them flew out of the enclosure at night and were caught by a fox.; The females began to produce large eggs which Daniel and I found made gorgeous omelets. The eggs were a little gamier than chicken eggs, but with homegrown chopped chives and some small cheese squares, the omelets were fantastic. Duck eggs contain more protein than chicken eggs and for this reason, when used in cakes, they produce a very high cake. We got into the habit of always using a duck egg when baking a birthday cake. The ducks came to us in 2003 and the group above have done really  well. This week, Daffney, the duck on the far left of the picture passed away after a brief illness. She had been ill for a couple of days and we tried an antibiotic and some B vitamins. She passed a couple of days later while we were present. It hurts each time one of Daniel's animals leaves the Earth, but we know that he has them now.  Daffney was the last of the females to survive this long. She was more than ten years old.  Goodbye sweet Daffney; It was a joy to have you here. We will take good care of your remaining family on Earth.


"I Will Take Care of You"            This is Canadian recording artist and amazing woman, Amy Sky

Modern Miracles

  This post was originally posted on one of my other blogs "What I Learned from Daniel" at www.learnedfromdaniel.blogspot.com  on July 1, 2013.  It was entitled "Modern Day Miracles" at that time.
    Since it relates to animals, I am reprising it here.    

A shetland pony

 


   Miracles do occasionally happy in the present day.  I have been a witness to many of them over my lifetime myself.    Some are of the dramatic variety. A person is admitted to the Intensive Care Unit and the trauma surgeon has told the family that the patient has only a five percent chance of survival, but a week later, the person is sitting up, complaining about all night lighting in the ICU and is transferred to a regular hospital floor a week later. He will not only survive, but will recover much more rapidly than was anticipated.  Most miracles in our lives are much smaller less dramatic events, but they are there, if we pay attention, nonetheless.  I think some of them simply occur because God is telling us that our lives are not meaningless and that He does care about our challenges and sorrows.  Sometimes, there are miracles which confirm our direction in our lives.

                 This is a small miracle I have chosen to tell you about here.  When Daniel was four and five and for a few years after that, our entire family used to travel quite a distance to attend the annual "Celtic Festival".   Both my husband and I have some Scottish, English and some Irish ancestry, and we thought this would be an excellent way for our children, especially as homeschoolers to learn something of this ancestry. It was an expensive trip for a family of six.  Parking, entry fees, and then additional charges to eat, and do some of the additional activities were large for six, but we would budget for this well in advance.  The entire family would dress in Scottish gear, including all of boys in kilts.   We would watch the Irish dancing, sword demonstrations, musical performances by Celtic artists etc.  We would eat fish and chips and homemade lemonade.  We would shop for British groceries and sweets and visit with friends who had stalls there.   It was during one of these days that Daniel and Matthew had a chance, in kilts to ride some ponies.  I remember well the chocolate colored young Shetland who would rather have been grazing, but who begrudgingly carried Daniel in his kilt and a turtleneck down the length of a field while being led by a teen girl with a giant rope.  I remember the wind blowing on that November day, blowing both the mane on the horse, and Daniel's hair as well.    Matthew followed on a taller horse, also being led in similar fashion.  We took photographs and these became special memories to me.

                 Over time, the Celtic Festival changed locations and became even more expensive. The younger boys also didn't want to dress us in kilts again and there came many other interests.  Eventually, our older kids went together when they got driver's licenses, but my husband and I, and Matthew and Daniel never went again.

                Of course, as you know, this November, Daniel will have been gone from the Earth five years.  He came, enjoyed his time on Earth and his studies, and then passed at 12 1/2.  There were many things I wish he'd stayed longer to do.  I am therefore very grateful for the things he did have a chance to do, and for the pictures that help us remember them.

               A couple of months ago, I noticed that local papers, Craigslist,  Freecycle, and other sources have an abundance of really wonderful horses available for relatively low prices.  Many people who like horses take on a greater number than they can afford, or find over time that between feed, hay, veterinary care, shelter, farrier care, boarding if you don't have room at home or are zoned for such, becomes expensive.  Consequently, there are Freisians, Thoroughbreds, Clydesdales, Arabians, miniature horses, Welsh ponies, and Shetland ponies all for sale.  I have always wanted a horse here on the farm and so I read them carefully.  I decided to buy a miniature horse who needed a home, in part because I was concerned I would be injured as my accomplished horsemen paternal family were, and also because I thought a mini would be a great place for me to learn.   I saw an ad without a picture for a miniature horse being sold by a woman who does horse rescue.   I went to see the horse right away.   I liked this beautifully proportioned bay gelding very much despite the fact that he could use some training and some handling. His original owner had become ill and was unable to care for him. Consequently, he was skittish and quick to spook and needed a lot of handling.  It also took me no time to see how bonded he was to another horse who was housed with him.  The horse housed with him was a chocolate Shetland pony who was muscular and stocky and had a long tuft of fetlock hair which curled.  He looked familiar.  I made no promises that first visit and told the owner I would need to go home to discuss the purchase with my husband.

              It took me several days to convince my husband who didn't remember telling me that I could get a horse if I did 100% of its care. During this time I also felt guilty about removing the miniature horse from his friend the Shetland, to whom he was bonded.   Animals are never happy on a farm being the only one of their species.  When I spoke to the woman again, I asked her how much she would charge for both the miniature and the Shetland.  She told me that the Shetland would be more money as he'd had a career giving rides to children at birthday parties, bank openings, and festivals etc.  Finally, she settled on a price, I paid it, and she delivered "the boys" to the farm.

            The first few weeks were challenging as I learned to muck stalls, and led them out to graze.  We had an equine veterinarian out a couple of times.  He taught me how to identify landmarks in order to do all the immunizations myself in future.  The vet determined the age of both horses based on their teeth.  The sweet miniature bay gelding is about seven, and the Shetland gelding is about nineteen.  Not long after, the farrier came, and I could see that both horses enjoyed having their hooves trimmed and were very cooperative.
            Within several weeks both horses were very gentle, easily cared for, loving. and since I feed them, are thrilled to see me, each time I make my way to the stables.  They are indeed bonded and play with one another in the corral.  They play a version of what looks a good deal like tag.

             This week, with much of the horse chores being done and the hot weather here, I have worked on some indoor chores.  I wanted to clear some space downstairs so that I could better access some of the many albums of pictures of the kids when they were younger.  Thank Heaven, I thought, that we took so many pictures of Daniel when we did things.  They are so important especially since he has passed.  We are lucky that we have so much to remember, and so many pictures also.  I decided to look through some of the photograph albums from about 2000.    There was Daniel in a turtleneck and kilt as a boy of four riding a horse that looked just like my nineteen year old Shetland pony !    It can't be, I thought.  I studied the pictures carefully.  It did look just like our Shetland, but his mane and tail were slightly lighter in color than the horse I have now.  It can't be, I thought.

             This morning I was looking up something unrelated with regard to horse care and I came upon some information I did not know prior.  Apparently, many times, chocolate colored horses, particularly Shetlands have manes and tails which darken as they age.  My Shetland is nineteen.  If he were the horse that Daniel is riding then he would have been about five years old at the time.  I now remember commenting to the young woman who told us about the horses as Matt and Daniel rode, that Daniel was the same age as his horse.
            I truly believe that the chocolate Shetland pony that Daniel rode at the Celtic festival in 2000, is indeed the Shetland pony that we quite accidentally acquired this year !    What are the chances that we accidentally purchased simply as a companion to another horse, the horse that Daniel rode ?   What are the chances that this horse would be made available to us when he simply needed a home now ?  So many things had to line up perfectly in order for this to have happened.

            Perhaps placing the horse Daniel rode is God's way of ensuring this older Shetland gets excellent care as he ages.  Perhaps this is God's way of telling us that He and Daniel have not forgotten all the incredible times we spent together.  Perhaps this little miracle is Daniel's way of saying hello, and that he knows of things that happen here on Earth, and on the farm. Both horses are happy and healthy, and are a great joy to me, whether I have met the older of the two before, or not.



Update:  About six weeks after getting these first two ponies, we rescued another two horses who are true miniature horses.  Thus far, they are all getting along nicely and seem to appreciate being in a herd of smaller horses.

The Story of Rosheen (Roisin)

      

Roisin, in her kennel

    One of the most valuable and important gifts God has chosen to provide to me in this life have been my dogs.  I have had a dog of one kind or another since I was a small child, and the only genuine criticism I have for them is that their life spans here on Earth with us, simply aren't long enough.  When I was much younger than this, I recall praying to God asking why people, who are often hostile and self centered may live to a hundred, and many dogs are lucky if they live as long as fourteen.  It took years before I believe He answered me, and when He did in a dream, He related that human beings require many years to learn all that is needed about love and loyalty, and that dogs know all that is important relatively quickly.  I have taken that to be true, and not simply a creation of my own mind in sleep.
           Now that I am half way through a century myself, and we have raised our own large family and lived on two farms, I have had an awful lot of dogs over the years.  The farm needs a number of different types of dogs for many different purposes, and we have been fond of taking many of them, often purebred varieties, from pounds and rehabilitating them.  Of course, the pedigreed varieties often  lack the mongrel resilience of others, and I have often wound up with an animal with a significant medical problem which requires injections or anti-seizure medication a couple of times a day.  Still, I can convince a dog of my good intentions within an afternoon, and having been a foster mother, I can assure you that human beings take much longer to trust other human beings, if in fact, they ever do.
          This month has been particularly difficult on the farm.  Angus, was a small bi-color beagle who came to our original farm some years ago and would watch us.  It took a year before he allowed himself to be captured and served a meal, some water, and within a day or so, a rabies shot.  (Rabies is endemic here and we cannot have an animal in close proximity without proper protection.)  Even then, the vet indicated that Angus was very very old.  He was likely one of the hunting dogs which had found its way to our property and then was never picked up again.  He had no collar, and no microchip.   He adapted to our farm in 2000 and having spied on us for just over a year.  We know that he had been abused in a prior home, because he could cowar when we raised our hand to pet him, and then he would remember that we meant no harm and he would allow us to touch him.
          Rosheen  (Irish Gaelic spelling is actually Roisin) was a Jack Russell terrier mix who came to our farm in 1999. In 1999, after we moved out to the country to our first farm that we built, my daughter and I went out one day to the edge of one of the cities which is within a days commute. While we were there we stopped at a Dairy Queen which has long since closed and been replaced by something else.   My daughter and I each got a small cone, and the woman who has working the DQ that day asked us if we wanted a dog. We told her the truth which was that we already had several dogs on our farm and didn't really need any.  She proceeded to tell us that a female Jack Russell Terrier mix had been dropped off at her apartment complex, and that she didn't want to take her to the pound, but couldn't keep her.  She proceeded to take us to her car where the dog was "napping".  How bad could a napping dog who waits for you to finish working really be ?  When the woman got to the car, she found the interior of her (thankfully) older car, chewed to bits !  The woman was upset, and I had plenty of places we could station a small watchdog, and so we brought her home.  Our daughter named her Rosheen, (written for pronunciation) although the Irish Gaelic spelling is Roisin.  The dog has been a great joy to our daughter, to all of us, and also to our young son Daniel who passed suddenly at the beginning of the Christmas Season now four years ago.
         Although we had Angus neutered and Ro was spayed, they were like an old married couple.  They shared a kennel room in our kennel, and this year had been together for ten years. They fought over a milkbone from time to time, but their relationship was congenial and devoted.   We were aware that the vet believed that Angus was in excess of twenty years old.  We knew his passing was coming, especially since the vet warned us of it, each Winter.  We also inherently knew that Rosheen would not do well following Angus' passing.  We knew she was now fourteen, and we tried not to contemplate this much, and we hoped the other larger dogs would help her in that event that he passed before she did.
          On December 1st, Angus passed quickly of a stroke. We moved him to the finished warm barn. He was alive for a few hours and we had a chance to sit next to him as he slept and eventually died.    Ro, initially seemed alright, but one never knows how much they do, and do not grasp. A couple of weeks later, we could see that she too was depressed. She was showing clear signs of Canine Cognitive Dysfunction or more commonly "Doggie Dementia". She initially drank well, but almost seemed to have forgotten how to eat, or that she needed to eat at all.  She enjoyed our interaction, but she was not the same dog. It was as if all of her energies were set on joining Angus in whatever Heaven our Lord sees fit to provide for his youngest children.

Rosheen, also in happier days.

           Tonight, at 5:15 pm on December 28, 2012, Rosheen drew her last breath.  This week has been spent tempting her with turkey, chicken broth, a couple of flavors of gatorade, all manner of food, specialized soft dog food in cans, and ultimately simple rehydration solution in plain water. My Christmas was spent walking her, playing the radio to her, and having each of the kids including my daughter, (who was really her owner), spend time with her. Today, I spent as much time with her as I could, and then returned about every forty minutes when her respirations grew shallow.  Ro waited until I was there and took one last breath.
             I have been so honored to have had all these dogs as my friends. Angus and Rosheen are just two in a long line of very special devoted friends who have shared important parts of our family life. I am going to miss them both so much, even with seven different breeds and types of dogs remaining.    Medical care, chux, special bedding, blankets, medication, food, feeding syringes, for Rosheen's last days were about three hundred dollars.  Dogs: Absolutely priceless.   Yes, our friends are priceless.