Alternative transportation

FarmWife went on a bike ride to the local watering hole yesterday, with our youngest human filly in tow. Normally, my hackles would be up at the preposterous suggestion that any mode of transportation could serve better than me, Fenway Bartholomule. This time, though, I have to agree.

Firstly, there was the weather. A romantic mist at the beginning of their ride turned into a pissing, frigid downpour by the time they returned, and I was just as happy to observe from within the comfort of my dry shed.

Secondly, there are the amenities. I understand that they serve beer, soda, juice, and coffee at the Blue Mountain Grill, but only out of mugs, glasses, or cups. A bucket of Guinness would cost a pretty penny, and I'm pretty sure those lawn chairs on the patio aren't designed for the likes of me.

Thirdly, there is the roadway. Rushing along a paved back road is fine for wheels but hard one hooves, and with the pace they were setting I was well advised to remain behind.

Fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, the Blue Mountain Grill sits on Highway 9. The means by which to get there are quieter, but the parking lot is right on the main drag. It would be a shame, I think, if I was overcome by my Annual Stupidity while in such close proximity to the thundering lorries. (My Annual Stupidity, for those unaware, is a gigantic megaspook, which involves whirling, bolting, and braying in abject terror. It has happened to me twice in my two plus years with FarmWife.)

I won't begrudge FarmWife and her littlest filly an occasional bike ride, then. I just hope they bring me back an oatmeal stout and a side of onion rings next time.

FenBar

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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

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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 ...

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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 ...

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To Boot or Not to Boot

There're boots (FarmWife's, pictured) and and then there're boots (mine, below) and boots (suspensory). And THOSE—suspensory, support or protective boots—are what I want to talk about today. (And yes, I know that there are a million other kinds, too, but a mule has only so much time.) I love my Easyboot Epics, and I would gladly wear a second pair on my hind hooves if the opportunity presented itself. So far, it hasn't, but it's only a matter of time until a mule of my caliber starts seeing the corporate sponsorship love. All in due time! In the meantime, FarmWife wonders about protective or supportive boots. You know, the kind that make a mule look very fancy, ready for anything, and primed for tremendous athletic accomplishment? Really, I would love to have some. I think they'd look sassy. The arguments in favor of wearing something like a Sports Medicine Boot are thus: I love to a...

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