BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

Such nobility! Such poise! Such a look of "Oh My Gosh What Is In That SWAMP?????"

Bad news: I was not invited on FarmWife's field trip, which took place in Alexandria, Virginia at George Washington's Mount Vernon Estate a couple of weeks ago. Good news: FarmWife got to go (she was the organizer, of course she got to!) and she brought back photos and stories. FarmWife quizzed her tour guide, a knowledgable and amenable fellow, on his understanding of George Washington's mule-breeding exploits. She was delighted to hear that he knew all about our first president's prominence as an early supporter of the mule, that he knew of the jack Royal Gift (a present to Washington from the King of Spain, and one of this continent's first good mule sires), and that even today mules and donkeys are kept near Mount Vernon Estate and brought back for demonstrations and for farm work in the spring. They were offsite at the time of FarmWife's visit, so she contented herself with visiting some steers and sheep. FarmWife loved the livestock, but she was really th...

Missy, left, and B.G., right This was a hard week. Last month, B.G., who has been on-again off-again lame for most of her life, was finally diagnosed at four years of age with laminitis and arthritis. Severe changes in the outer claw of her left hoof meant that, for the last several weeks, she had been virtually unable to walk. The third vet to see her about the lameness finally got the diagnosis right, and it was not a happy one. NSAIDS and dietary changes did nothing to improve the situation, and the vet and I agreed on Tuesday that it was time to put B.G. down. I made an appointment for Thursday. This decision came at around 10 am, and I went for a tearful muleback ride (my first in over a year, due to Fenway's old hock injury) thereafter. From the saddle I called my mom, which is always good therapy, and soon felt somewhat better. I came home from that ride to the news that my friend A. (www.mamacan.blogspot.com) had died of cervical cancer. She had a ferocious nearly four-year...

Here's an update for all my kind friends who offered condolences on B.G.'s passing. FarnWife and the vet spent a long time talking about Missy and decided to wait. Her daughter went quietly; Missy is attending the body now with no apparent concern. Time will tell if this was the right decision.

There's been some sadness hanging around here lately. FarmWife's friend Alexis (mamacan.blogspot.com) died of cervical cancer on Tuesday after a fierce, nearly four-year battle. She leaves behind a loving husband and preschooler son. Today, the vet is coming for B.G.'s end-of-life appointment.  We always expected her mother, Missy, to go first. Now it's B.G. who is in chronic pain from arthritis and laminitis, conditions which became apparent during her pregnancy and which were misdiagnosed twice before we finally got a clue. She is not well. FarmWife is left with the difficult decision of whether to put Missy down too. On the one hoof, she's weak and crooked and thin despite a high calorie diet. She sees demons, butting her head and hackling at invisible invaders every day. FarmWife fears she will feel vulnerable if left alone. She is afraid of me, now, and terrified of my sweet Arrietty.  On the other hoof, she's not declining. She's been a skinny, geri...

I'm off to the 28th annual eastern conference of the Timber Framers Guild. Those of you who know me well will realize the extent to which this event has absorbed my attention for the last four months. I'm glad it is finally here! Watch for updates here and at www.tfguild.org.

I, Fenway Bartholomule, have been abandoned yet again by my human mother (FarmWife). She is away on business, which doubtless means that she is hobnobbing with interesting people, eating interesting food, and washing her hair with *teeny weeny* shampoos. I envy her the food and the company, but I don't need the teeny shampoos. I have my own jumbo toiletries and medicinal balms, thanks to my kind friends at Simple Relief Products (www.simplereliefproducts.com). They heard I was turning 18 and sent me a sweet-smelling box of wound-soothing, coat-shining, skin-nourishing goodness. I will tell you more when FarmWife returns and conducts my next spa day. In the meantime, visit my new friends online or at their Facebook page to see their line of natural products! FarmWife promised presents for her daughters on return from her conference, and I rather hope she'll bring Arrietty a new halter, but my needs are met. I just need her back to help me enjoy these gifts. Thank you, Simple ...

I have had dealings with a veterinarian who called me a donkey, and I have had dealings with a veterinarian who call me a dear. The difference is stark. The former veterinarian said things like, "careful, you have to show donkeys who's in charge," and "you'll need a stud chain if your donkey won't come in here." He is not my veterinarian any more. The latter veterinarian said things like, "he's a wonderful mule—even nicer than most," and "he's being so good, we hardly need to sedate him," and "it's no wonder you are so proud of him. He's gorgeous." He is going to be my veterinarian forever. Thanks, Dr. Leisher, for being so nice to me and for knowing that there is a difference between mules and donkeys. You are the right kind of veterinarian for me. FB Mule recipe from peer.tamu.edu

FarmWife has taken me on some test walks (better, now, with shoes) and my hock has been rock solid all along. This is a wonderful improvement over last summer, a year ago, when my thoroughpin blew up to tennis-ball size after even light exercise. I've had more than a year off, and it is only recently that I've dared to hope that FarmWife may ride me again one day! No terribly high expectations, of course—I won't be foxhunting, completing the Tevis Cup, or entering Rolex anytime soon. It would please us all, though, if I could meander from here to Skagit County, ponying my pony mule, for a trailside picnic. (I do love sandwiches !) I shall keep you informed. Ears, FenBar

Barter: I love the concept, and I'm grateful for frequent opportunities to practice this ancient means of commerce in this closely intertwined community I call home. Here's my new tattoo, which I got in trade for writing through a convoluted string of IOUs. (Next question . . . to tip? I thought "yes," settling on some cash and a beaver skull. It suited the artist's decor better than my own.) The original design was by Briony Morrow-Cribbs, artist, illustrator, fine art professor, and childhood best friend. The tattoo was by Bob Yaple at Bellingham's Sabbath Tattoo. It's a robin amidst dill and sage, and reminds me of my three daughters (Robin Elizabeth, Dylann Hannah, and Mia Sage).

I'm strolling with my buddies and my feet feel fine!

FarmWife is back! She spent nearly a week in New Hampshire and Massachusetts enjoying the delightful company of her extended family, which includes a lot of people and a couple of cats but not a single mule. She came home, needless to say, in desperate need of a big furry mule hug. Arrietty and I provided eight hooves, four ears, four steaming nostrils, and a whole lot of fuzzy autumnal hairyness for the comfort of her lonesome soul. She is once again covered in hair, dust, hay, and straw—just like we like her. Jason Rutledge, www.healingharvestforestfoundation.org FarmWife is desperately eager to enroll students in her upcoming workshop, "Restorative forestry through horse logging," scheduled for Thursday, October 18 from 8:30 am to 5 pm in Leesburg, Virginia. Enrollment is low and the session will be cancelled on Friday if something doesn't change between now and then. If you have ever wanted to learn to work draft horses in the woods, or to promote the long-term ...