Vocabulary words

FarmWife hasn't ridden me in MONTHS! I'm not exaggerating. First she was working too much, then she was at a conference, then I had a stone bruise, then her kid was in the hospital, then it started to rain terrible, slushy rain. She's huddled in a warm house beside a crackling fire and I'm huddled in a cold shed beside a belching goat.

FarmWife still visits me every day. She feeds me hay in the morning, a snack in the afternoon (sometimes a rose hip, sometimes a pear, and sometimes a handful of sunflower seeds), and hay in the evening. She warms my water when it's cold and freshens it up when it's dirty. She cleans my shed. She opens my pasture gate when the sun is out and closes it when the weather's rainy.

We have a language: "Heeeee-Hawwww-Hee-HEE-HEEEEEAaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwww!" means "feed me," and her conventional reply is "poor hungry baby!!" She yells it to me, and it assures me that she knows about my plight. I stop braying and wait, and eventually food comes.

If she does not reply with "poor hungry baby," I worry. I bray again until I'm sure she hears.

If I'm not hungry, I say "hooo-hoo-hoo-huh" to her. It's a gentle sort of thing to say, and it means "I love you with my heart AND with my stomach." I usually say it when she comes back from the school bus—this is a time when I've already been fed, and when I know a whuffly thank you will be welcome.

If FarmWife wants to hear a full-fledged bray, she says "MuuuuuuuuuuuuuuLLLE!" I scream "HEEEAwwww!" and gallop to her. This happens most, but not all, of the time, and she is happiest when She is happiest when these times correspond to her attempts to show me off to a friend or visitor. Other times, she calls "MuuuuuuuulLLLE!" and I look up with a bored expression, nicker weakly, and go back to grazing.

If she wants to hear my whuffle, she says "Hoooo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo Fenny." I "hooo-hoo-hoo" back. Her heart melts a little, even though we say "hoo-hoo" to each other every single day.

I may not be able to carry FarmWife up the precipitous slopes of Lyman Hill today, but don't think we aren't having quality time. We are.

Ears,
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

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 ...

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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...

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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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BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

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