Rabbit Habits (Part II)

The best thing about Harriet might be the way she lounges softly like a bag of warm rice across one's lap. I would have to argue, though, that it is even better to see the way she entertains herself, and us, in her more enthusiastic moments. The biggest crowd-pleaser up Harriet's sleeve might be the floating 180. She executes this maneuver from a full gallop, a gait which more closely resembles the action of Chester Cheetah than of Peter Rabbit. Springing a full 18 or 20 inches into the air, Harriet manages an aerial twist that ends in a flat-out run in the opposite direction. It's a particularly popular move during her morning garden turnout, where she uses the carpeted weedblock pathways as personal hurdling tracks. Our dog Paisley, who is often turned out with her as a hawk deflection measure, serves as a launching platform for her more complex acrobatic endeavors.

Harriet always amuses us with her free time antics—her gymnastic superman stretch, executed in midair during her liveliest leaps, and her hop-flop, with which she transitions, sproinging up and flopping down, crash between active play and sprawled repose. We all love her ghost walks, during which she covers her face with a clean cloth diaper and roams, blindly nudging, to the tune of my children's collective, spooky moans. We love the way she begs for her breakfast, flipping her heavy ceramic bowl up and over, up and over, up and over, ever backward in a thumping rhythm.

Unfortunately for all of us, but not least Harry herself, her liberty and gymnastic opportunities have been limited since the last in a series of destructive occurrences. Now, in addition to her daily garden turnout, Harriet makes do with supervised indoor freedom under the watchful eye of my middle daughter D. We like to call D, in this role, Patrol Officer Jones. Never, to my knowledge, has there been a cuter parolee than little Harriet.

. . . . to be continued . . . .

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Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

Here, for your edification, are the X-rays of dear Paisley's leg. There is, apparently, no new break (since his Monday siezure) but there is, of course, a great deal of abnormality caused by years of living with a shortened ulna. His pronounced lameness, the vet says, may temporarily improve. Unlike me, Fenway Bartholomule, poor cloud dog can't expect much in the way of a full recovery. Not having the $$$$ for surgery to fuse the joint, we are working on making some sort of rigid splint to support the limb and prevent further degeneration. That is, the humans (with their space-age material inventions and their opposable thumbs) are working on making a splint; I am working on giving cloud dog brayful looks of support and encouragement every time he totters into the yard to relieve himself. As always, he fears me (me?!) and keeps his distance. Ears to you, Fenway

Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

I, Fenway Bartholomule, am a vegan: of course I only eat plants, not people! My human is too, so I'm sharing my blog with her today so that she can participate in the 2014 Virtual Vegan Potluck ! When you're done perusing the recipe for these delicious spring rolls, click "back" or "forward" for the entire potluck experience! Virtual Vegan Potluck: Spring Roll Appetizers Beautiful? Check. Healthy? Check. Delicious? Check. Easy? Check. Fancy? Check. Quick to clean up after? Check. Vegan? OF COURSE! If you're looking for something portable, colorful, and crowd-pleasing for your next potluck, look no further than these simple vegan spring rolls! The best part? You can substitute ANYTHING. I never make these the same way twice, so play around with cilantro, kale, cabbage, scallions, or whatever you think sounds good! Ingredients Veggie mix: 2 carrots (grated) 4 oz mung bean sprouts 1/3 cup chopped peanuts (raw, or roasted and salted) or ...

Continued . . .

Catastrophy

This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. I was going to entertain you with more haiku today, but something terrible has happened. I need your support. Today was supposed to be a regular spa day—a nice little hoofie trim, a fresh mane roach, an ear massage, and a handful of sunflower seeds (for shine). Instead of merely taking care of my beauty routine, however, FarmWife spent a full hour in contemplation of and attention to my overall physique. The upshot? A revision of my condition from Plump to Obese. (Her actual words, upon removing my blanket for the first time in a few days, were "Oh my God! You've ballooned!") She has decided that my fatness has become a health risk, and has resolved to exercise me as often as possible. It gets dark at 4:30. Her husband gets home at 5:30. She has small children and no sitter. This, my friends, means that I will end up being longed. Longed at the end of a stupid, smelly old rope. Forced to walk and trot...

Continued . . .

Mowers and raccoons and steers, oh my!

In my informal Facebook survey I learned that the majority of Friends of the Muleness want more stories—All the Stories!—and that the story they want most of all is the story of the raccoon. Farmwife says it's hardly a story at all, and that it would be something to talk about had the raccoon been in my barn, or touching my body, or gesticulating at me with it's bizarrely human little fingers to indicate that it would like a little snack or help with its homework. Alas, this is not that kind of story. Before I tell you about the raccoon I have to go backwards and tell you that I am feeling very good in my body these days. My track through the forest has been expanded, my laminitis is at bay, and my health has been very largely excellent since I came here to the Atomic Ranch in December. I am feeling so good, in fact, that I have been cleared for long walks around the neighborhood! Puck, Farmwife, and I sometimes make the long loop up Saratoga and back around Fox Spit, which ...

Continued . . .

BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

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