Never thought I'd see the day

You can't say I haven't been warned. I know the dangers. Rachael Rossman is very clear about the havoc that can be wreaked by a studio cat. Hair on paintings. Colorful pawprints on paintings. Painting water used as a water dish.
But come on. Look at the cuteness. THE CUTENESS.
Mark still insists that this is a barn cat. But, honestly, I don't think even he completely believes it anymore. Every time I turn around, the kitten is in the house. More often than not, riding on Mark's shoulder as he goes about his day. I know. I don't believe it either. But, seriously, this is probably the single friendliest cat on planet earth. No one is immune to his charms.
And in the Cunningham family tradition, we seem unable to settle on one name. Here's the list so far.
Chumlee (from Pawn Stars)
Little Cat A (from The Cat In The Hat Comes Back)
Rootin' Tootin' Kitten Kabootin (from the Skippy Jon Jones books) This gets shortened to "Kabootin" or "Bootin")
Mousetrap Wellington III (from, well, my crazy family's overactive imagination)
So... I'll keep you posted on the transition from barn cat to studio cat, but I'm pretty sure that's what's gonna happen. It can't be helped.

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. ~Proverb

I expect National Geographic to be calling any day now.

Chapter 24 In Which We Acquire Walter Wedgie, the Wonder Hedgie

Also officially known as Spike.

So here's the very sweet story of how a little boy named Max got his heart's desire.
Okay, first you must know that Max's heart's desire is a hedgehog. Apparently, there is no accounting for heart's desires.

Somehow, about 6 months ago, Max got it into his little head that more than anything else in life he wanted a hedgehog. A little random, but, okay. Whatever.

Here's the problem, though.

Hedgedhogs are quite trendy, and as you may know, the trendier something is, the more expensive it is likely to be. Hedgehogs are no exception.

If you google hedgehogs looking for a breeder or just someone who has one for sale, you're likely to find that a hedgehog is probably going to run you in the neighborhood of $250. I know. Yikes. And that's before you start purchasing the vast quantities of gear that a happy hedgehog needs and wants.

So we told Max, "Better start saving your money."

Those of you who are parents know that at this point Mark and I are thinking that Max is going to lose enthusiasm for hedgehogs WAY before he earns enough money for one.

So...

Max takes a shoe box and uses stickers to label it "Hedgie Fund" and puts in the $1.58 that he has saved. And then the $2 he earns for doing chores. And the $5 his grandpa pays him for washing his truck. And time goes by.

Occasionally, something at the store looks very tempting to Max, but with a little encouragement he manages to forego plastic toys, video games and trading cards. And time goes by.

Meanwhile, just out of curiosity, I'm keeping an eye on craigslist to see what's available as far as hedgehogs are concerned. They don't come up very often, but once in a while there is a hedgehog listed, always for a lot of money.

But one day, after I drop the kids at school, I pull up craigslist and search for hedgehogs and there is a listing for one. It doesn't name a price, just that the owner is very concerned with finding it a good home.

Now, at this point I know that Max has saved exactly $40. A huge amount for a 9 year old with cheap parents to sock away, but not even in the ballpark of what one might expect to pay for a hedgehog.

Still...

I figure it can't hurt to shoot this person an emamil explaining that I have this 9 year old, hedgehog-obsessed son, etc...

So I write a long letter telling the story of Max's quest, and explaining that he only has $40 but he's saved it all himself and that his dad and I would front him another $10 and if there's any way that she would consider taking $50 to please give me a call.

And I'm thinking, yeah right. That's the last I'll hear of that.

But, wonder of wonders, this young woman calls me and says that although her email box was jammed with responses from people wanting to buy her hedgehog, and although mine was nowhere near the first response she received, she read my letter and decided that Max absolutely HAD to have her hedgehog and she hadn't even contacted anybody else.

Let me tell you, there's nothing like telling your kid something that makes them so happy that they cry. I'll never forget telling Max the (intentionally drawn out) story of how I had found this ad on craigslist.

He just stood there with his eyes getting wider and wider and filling up with tears until I got to the end of the story. Then he whispered, "Does that mean I get the hedgehog?"

We drove down to Portland the next day to get Dexter (now, Spike) and Max brought in his "Hedgie Fund" box, and he just about cried, and the woman just about cried, and she told him that he should keep the coins that comprised part of his $50 because he would need a start for whatever he decided to save for next. She explained all about caring for a hedgie and then loaded us up with every imaginable thing that a hedgehog could need: cage, travel cage, playpen, wheel, bath stuff, blankets, food, even a book and a little decorative hedgehog figurine.

Spike is now happily integrated into our family. Max is a happy hedgehog owner and I am beyond grateful to a young woman in Portland who passed up maximum profit to fulfill the wish of a little boy she didn't even know.

You enter into a certain amount of madness when you marry a person with pets. ~Nora Ephron

For those who haven't seen them, here are the sheepies and the llamas.

I'm still waiting for my trainer to email me pics from the inspection, but here are a couple from Friday, right before we left. Stella was feeling quite impatient from having her fourth bath of the week and then not being allowed to roll. I swear next time I'm picking a breed with NO WHITE ON IT ANYWHERE!!! More info on the inspection coming soon...

Off we go...

Here is a picture of Stella au natural in the pasture. I'll post "Inspection" pictures tomorrow for comparison.

M-I-C… K-E-Y…

Want to see if you can guess my least favorite thing? Okay, I'll give you a minute to think. (Just know that in my head, the music from Jeopardy is playing...) Time's up. My leastest, most very leastest favorite thing is... going to start a load of wash and finding... a live MOUSE in my washing machine! See! I told you! Admit it. Now it's your least favorite thing, too, even though this has never actually happened to you. I'll bet you think I'm making this up. I guaran-double dog-tee you that in my most horrific imaginings I could not make such a thing up. Seriously. And, worst of all, that is exactly what happened to me 5 minutes ago when I innocently opened the lid of my washing machine to start another chapter in the endless saga that is Dirty Laundry around here. Yes, indeed. There was a little mouse staring up at me, unaware that it barely escaped having 20 pounds of smelly-boys-playing-outside-all-weekend socks and jeans and underwear dropped on its unexpecting fuzzy little head. I will admit that the shock of it was not nearly as cardiac arrest-inducing as it was the first time this happened, but still, it's not good. I don't enjoy it. Especially when the rodent in question has not yet given up hope of escape from its prison and is hopping with all its might, trying to scale the walls. Try having that greet you some morning before you've even had a cup of coffee. Trust me. Your adrenaline will spike so high that you'll never need caffeine again. The worst part of it, though, is that there is nothing at all that I can do about the porblem. Okay, read that: nothing I'm willing to do. My farm girl persona does have its limits, past which I revert to girly-girl. A mouse in the washing machine is way, way past my farm girl limits. So, not only can I not do my laundry (do you hear me crying over that?), but all day long today I will have to think about a poor little critter, scared out of its mind, trying to escape from its trap. Not knowing, as I do, that certain doom awaits it when Mark gets home. Don't ask what happens when Mark gets home. I promise, you do not want to know.

Gipsy gold does not chink and glitter. It gleams in the sun and neighs in the dark. ~Attributed to the Claddaugh Gypsies of Galway

This is Stella. She has just been bathed and clipped and brushed and sprayed and now it is time for her photo shoot. Stella says it is very hard work being a super model. Stella is getting ready for her big day. June 27th she is going to Eugene, OR for the American Haflinger Registry's official Classification and Inspection. That's what Stella is. A Haflinger. For those unfamiliar with these gorgeous creatures, Haflingers come from Austria, and are good for everything from dressage and jumping, to endurance riding, to therapeutic riding and giving lessons to children. So basically they are sweet, kind, smart horses that just happen to look like the equine version of a game show hostess. Just don't tell her that her butt looks big. She's very sensitive about that. Look for updates on Stella as her big day approaches.

Marty the Wonder Dog gets his own post!

Okay, here's Marty. Read the next post to figure out what that's all about.

The Bumpus Hounds

Okay, to get the title of this post you have to have more than a passing aquaintence with what my sweet husband would call the only Christmas movie worth watching: A Christmas Story. You know, the one with the Red Ryder Beebee Gun and "you'll shoot your eye out, kid." Sound familiar? If it does then you may remember that the next door neighbors of the main family were the Bumpuses and their main claim to fame was owning, like, a billion hound dogs that bayed and howled and ran amok and generally drove everybody crazy. This week the Cunninghams have officially changed their name to the Bumpuses. Let me introduce: Gizmo, Moose, Voey, Patch, Spot the Dog and Marty the Wonder Dog. Know how many dogs is too many? Six. Oh, wow. I have so many dogs that blogger has cut me off before I could post pictures of all of them. I'll have to outsmart my computer by putting Marty the Wonder Dog on his own post. He deserves it anyway, seeing as how he's a wonder dog and all.

Gidget!

Here is Gidget. Cutest little button! She is five months old and for those of you who know (or care) about Haflinger bloodlines, her daddy is Altess. Today is a big and stressful day for Miss Gidget. Weaning! This is the first time that I've weaned a foal and my knowledge comes from what I read on the internet, and what my good and knowledgeable horsey friend Angel has told me about her experience. I've decided to go with the "adjacent pasture" approach to weaning. I had to put Gidget in the barn while I moved mommy Paris down to the bottom pasture. Oh my word! I thought Gidget was going to kick the barn down with her tiny little hooves and I thought Paris was going to run herself into a lather, or go straight through the fence! Fortunately, as soon as I turned Gidget out in the upper pasture she and mom both settled down and began munching on hay. Now they can see each other, but not get to each other and they both seem content. Paris is for sale, so if you are interested, please contact Glory Bee Farm at 360-666-3567. I am just starting to work with her, so in a few days I should be able to tell more about her abilities. Stay posted!

Meet the critters

This is our handsome new herd sire. He's just a baby, and not yet old enough to leave his mama, so he won't be arriving 'til next month. He's coming to Glory Bee Farm from Capriola's in Woodburn, Oregon. He comes from really great lines on both sides and we are expecting beautiful babies from him when he gets a little older. We will also be offering outside breedings from him. If you are interested, please contact Glory Bee Farm. We currently have three grown wethers available for sale, and babies expected at the end of October. Watch this space for more pictures.

New horses on the way!

Just got a call that Cassandra and baby are safely loaded on the trailer and headed my way. I'll post pictures as soon as they get here. I think the baby's name is Gidget, but I'm not sure about what I'll call the mama.

The Potential of Pigs

Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast! ~ Lewis Carroll

Pigs! Don’t you think pigs are a good idea? I trust that you’re not rolling your eyes like my sweet husband does when I fall victim to another “Lucy moment.” Just go with me here. Right now two (or maybe three) mama pigs raising wiggling, oinking little curly-tails seems like just the thing for a little extra income. Nope. Never done it before. Don’t know the first thing about it, but, hey! How hard can it be? That’s the great thing about the internet. You can learn just enough to get you started on your next brilliant idea and then you’re in deep enough that you have no choice but to go forward.

Have you found ways to support your farm habit? Send me your great ideas. Pictures, too! Let’s inspire each other. Keep in mind that anything worth doing is worth doing cute! So the more charming your ideas, the more likely you are to see them implemented and posted here. Farm girls, unite!