Will & Avery: Part of the Family Now

 

Back in November, I introduced you to the newest residents of The County Line. So, I figured it was time for an update. 

Will and Avery have made themselves at home, and they have been growing like proverbial weeds. My Facebook feed reminds me every so often of how quickly time marches on. Kinley's 12th birthday has come and gone, but my Facebook memory feed still offers glimpses of her first few weeks of life. It's hard to believe - whether we're talking human sisters or cat brothers. 

 

Before anyone thinks we are abusing the cats based on photos I took from their igloo during a snow storm, here's proof we are not:

I sent these to the kids, telling them it was the very definition of a "cat nap."

They take up a little more space in Randy's arms these days. (They were not particularly cooperative for this photo op. They are cats, after all.)

They still like their igloo - snow, rain or sunshine.

Our farm cats have also become accustomed to watching the 'Cats (K-State Wildcats) on TV with their favorite human. Just like Big Cat used to do, they know that the leopard print blanket is their spot. 

Sometimes, both come in for an evening cuddle. Just as often, it's only one brother. But last night, both came in to watch our 'Cats knock off the Jayhawks in an ESPN Big Monday game. If that's what it takes to win, maybe Randy will have to work harder to find both Will and Avery when the 'Cats are battling on the hardwood. They may be named in honor of K-State football players, but we'll take a little basketball magic, too.

Grandma Rules

When my kids were little, we had a rule. Actually, we had lots of rules. But the one to which I refer today is:

There are to be no animals in the house.

Yes, it was a hard and fast rule. Animals in the yard were encouraged. Animals in the corral were part of the paycheck.

But no animals in the house.

I must admit that the rules have relaxed over the years. Randy sometimes brings a cat or kittens into the house. But they are to remain on his lap. If they escape the confines of said lap, outside they go.

This photo of Randy and Big Cat is from the wintertime. He doesn't have to be garbed in a blanket to have a cat in the house. Even I'm not that mean!

When Kinley was here this weekend, Grandpa brought in three baby kitties.

He put them right on the carpet. And I didn't say a thing. What is wrong with me? It must be Grandma Rules.

Well, for sure, it's Grandpa Rules.

Kinley worked a little magic with her Mommy, too. Jill isn't much of an animal person, but she was right down there with Kinley and the kitties. (It may have been to make sure that Kinley kept the kitty out of her mouth and to wipe her hands after playtime was over. It may even have been to protect the kitty. But still ...)

Sunday morning before church, Grandpa and Kinley were out on the back steps, visiting another kitty. It was a perfect start to the day in Randy's eyes - Kinley and kitties!

A note:  I know lots of people feel differently about animals in the house. I was raised with outdoor animals.  I felt strongly enough about this issue that Randy and I discussed it before marriage, and I told him it was a deal breaker. Since I'm the primary cleaning person around here, I figured I got more votes on this issue. What you do in your house is your business, and I know lots of people adore their house pets.

And, apparently, this Grandma is getting lax in her old age.

Farewell, My Friends ...

The cold and dreary weather has kept me on the treadmill instead of outside. But that’s probably for the best anyway. My walking buddies are gone. And it would be a little dreary without them, no matter the temperature.

Ralph and Millie were gone when we got back from South Carolina. For the first few days, I kept thinking they would just show back up some morning, bounding with energy and ready to go on our daily walk. But as days passed, we faced the facts. Ralph and Millie weren’t coming back. The next hard part was telling Brent. We waited until after he was done with finals.

Ralph was Brent’s dog. Before he left for college, he made me promise that I would pet Ralph and talk to him every day. It became part of my daily walking routine. In the beginning, Ralph always went with me. As the years passed, sometimes Ralph would wait at the back steps while I did the walking. But he was always ready for our little talk, whether he did the workout or not.

Brent & Ralph - 2006 - before Brent left for K-State

We got Ralph at the Stafford County Fair one year. Our neighbor brought a pen of puppies to the fairgrounds. The “Free Puppies” sign was more popular among the 4-Hers than the concession stand. Brent begged to bring one home. And we did. We told Sharilyn that she wouldn’t have had to drag all the puppies 11 miles to town. She could have dropped one off 2 miles north since that's where he ended up.

Our other dog, Mindy, taught Ralph all about life on the County Line. As Ralph’s muzzle turned more gray than black, we thought it was time for Ralph to be the dog equivalent to Yoda. He could teach a new puppy about barking to alert us to visitors. He could demonstrate the importance of staying around home. He could let a new dog know that cattle weren't to be chased. So we brought Millie home in June.

Jake cared for the dogs and cats while we were gone to South Carolina. He last saw them on Sunday, November 27, the day before we came home on the 28th.

Would it have mattered if we'd come home one day sooner? Probably not. But it still makes me sad. We drove up and down the dirt roads around our house. We talked to neighbors. Nobody seems to know what happened to Ralph and Millie.

I'm the first to admit it: I don't equate pets with people. I don't like to have animals in the house, and I would never refer to a pet as a child. But I sure do miss my walking buddies.

Maybe the Hutchinson Animal Shelter's application should have a line or two regarding the track record of human applicants. During my growing up years, we had a bunch of different farm dogs, probably 6 or 8 of them.

Me at 10 1/2 months

Some were run over. Some ran away. Some got sick. My dad suspects one was stolen.

(Me at 5 1/2)

As the kids were growing up, we've had six dogs. They met the same fate as dogs from my youth. It's part of the cycle of life on the farm, I suppose.

But Brent's dog, Mindy, died of old age.

And we hoped it would be the same for Ralph and for Millie.

This was a post I didn't want to write. I prefer happy endings.

A Millie Update

She isn't nearly as well-behaved as her namesake, Millie, the KWCH weather dog. But she's a farm dog, not a TV star.

She's been part of the County Line menagerie since June 2, when we brought her home from the Hutchinson Animal Shelter. In 4 months, the cats have learned to tolerate her. Ralph - just like an older sibling - is resigned to the fact that this energetic interloper is here to stay.

I first took her picture in the backyard tub on June 13.

Nearly 4 months later, she is taking up considerably more space. I no longer worry that Millie's short legs can't make the whole 4-mile trek during our morning walk.

June 2011

Millie's legs are nearly as long as Ralph's these days. It's our senior citizen Ralph who is looking for shortcuts across the farm fields.

She's about 6 months old, which makes her the equivalent of an 8-year-old child in dog years. After spending the weekend, Jill & Eric think Millie's "people" should be a little more diligent in teaching her character traits like sharing and patience. They are probably right. Goodness knows, Ralph has had to be a model of those virtues since Millie arrived.

By Leaps and Bounds

Either the tub is shrinking or Millie is growing.

The pile of laundry wasn't the only thing that grew while we were on vacation.

Millie seemed to have morphed from babyhood to adolescence. Well, she still acts like a puppy. That's a cross that Ralph just has to bear.

But I'm no longer worried that her little legs won't make it back to the house during our morning walks.

Here she was on June 16, her little legs pumping to keep up with Ralph.

Two months later, on August 15, she's the one keeping both Ralph and me on our toes.

It's amazing how quickly little ones grow. Our great-nephew Braden celebrated his 1st birthday last weekend.

We'll celebrate with them before the first K-State football game. (The brainwashing begins early in our family.)

And this little Miss came to visit her great-grandparents last week, so the rest of us horned in on the baby holding time. And, of course, we were also glad to see her Mommy and Daddy (because how would she have gotten there otherwise)?

Here she is modeling the latest in summer fashions for 4-month-olds while showing off the name blanket her Grandma Lisa made her.

My little Ladd or little Lady Ladd coming in January will have to do without a carefully-pieced and quilted name blanket (unless I can find someone to do it for me).

But don't think the baby will be ignored. I told Jill it was probably a good thing I didn't know whether we are adding a girl or boy to the family come January. At every gift store, I seemed to gravitate toward the baby section. My pocketbook just might have been a little lighter had I known whether to buy ruffles or camouflage at Yellowstone.

Hmmm ... I wonder if that's the reason the secret will soon be revealed. With both first-time Grandmas hanging out in the miniature clothing aisle, that appears to be a smart move, Jill and Eric.

Picture Perfect

New moms have some creative methods to record the monthly growth of their babies these days. My niece Paige has been taking monthly photos of her daughter Neelly with a stuffed monkey. Either the monkey is shrinking or Neelly is growing. Paige got the monthly sign kit as a baby shower gift.

The signs were a lot more rudimentary, but Moms back in the "olden days" also recorded the passage of time for their babies.

My Mom took this photo of me at 3 months.

September 1957

I continued the tradition with my kids (True confessions: I wasn't as consistent as I should have been. And I definitely should have put the photos in an album as I went so I wouldn't spend my "golden years" searching through plastic tubs for hidden treasure. Where, oh where, was digital photography when I needed it!?)

How's this for a random mile marker for Brent? I guess "7 Wks" is better than nothing. It appears that Jill also had to have her photo taken that day. We couldn't have Brent being the star of the show without a little equal billing, so she got a 2 3/4 yrs. sign.

I haven't been particularly consistent with photographing our "baby" Millie either. But she seems to be filling the backyard tub a little more these days, and she's losing her baby face.

July 19, 2011

June 13, 2011

June 3, 2001 - The day we brought her home from the Animal Shelter

Let's just say Millie will probably take a back seat in the picture department when a certain little Ladd arrives in January.

Hot and Bothered

If you think you're hot, just think about this poor mama with these four heat-seeking missiles. They are constantly pushing their wiggly, hot bodies against her in search of breakfast, lunch, supper and assorted snacks.

How would it feel to be the vending machine for this never-ending open buffet? Apparently, it's exhausting.

The mom has moved her four babies into a single-family home in our backyard - a.k.a. a window well.

So far, Millie hasn't bothered them, though she is constantly seeking playmates among the other felines lounging in the 100-plus-degree heat in the backyard. As cats are wont to do, they pretty much ignore her.

Randy is on his quest to tame these newest additions to the farmyard.

We'll see if the mama cat leaves them in their current accommodations or packs them up and moves them to an undisclosed forwarding address.

Let's hope she puts them to work on mouse-hunting detail soon. There's no such thing as a free lunch around here.

Boot Scootin' Boogie

I gave the boot "the boot."

After 6 weeks of wearing the lovely fashion accessory necessitated by a broken big toe, I decided it was time to lose the boot. (I had the orthopedist's blessing.)

On Monday, I walked a mile for the first time in 6 weeks. That may not seem like much for someone who typically walks 4 miles a day, 6 days a week. But I'm under strict orders to take it easy.

Ralph & Millie have been keeping me company. We're up to 1.5 miles a day now.


It has gone pretty well. I've had a twinge or two as my tennis-shoed left foot hits the County Line. But I haven't been huffing and puffing, even after weeks of inactivity.

However, someone else is. This week has been Millie's first excursions beyond the farmyard. Her tongue hangs out and her short legs pump to keep up with Ralph.

Once we get back to the yard, she immediately heads to her "pool" for a little spa time.

Move over, Millie. You're not the only one who needs a spa treatment right about now.

It's a Dog's Life: The Opening Chapter

Meet Millie.

She's the newest addition to the County Line menagerie.

We picked her up at the Hutchinson Animal Shelter yesterday. Who knew it would be so complicated - and expensive - to rescue a dog?

Randy has delighted at telling people we are adopting. He thinks he's pretty funny. And I will admit, a few of our friends did double takes when he first announced our intentions to adopt. I may have rolled my eyes a time or two after the 10th time I heard it.

We have been thinking about adding another dog at the County Line. Brent's dog Ralph is at least 10 years old.

We finally quit talking and did something about it when Brent was home for a visit. He helped us look and did his share of dog petting at the Animal Shelter. But he told us it was our decision.

Here she was May 20. Who could resist that face? At that time, she was known as Prudence. We decided she looked more like a Millie to us.

Even though it's nothing like adopting a child, there is some pressure. When you walk down the hall of pens at the Humane Society, the cacophony of sound is overwhelming.

"Pick me! Pick me!" they all seem to say.

It was easy to say no to a few. Those who growled at us were immediately eliminated. The pit bull mixes were a no-go. The incessant barkers were crossed off the list. The St. Bernard puppy was cute, but he would have eventually eaten us out of house and home. Brent & I liked the golden Lab. Randy vetoed it because of our experience with a golden Lab named Sandy who liked to roam. We don't really know what happened to Sandy.

Millie is a Chow/Shepherd mix. She's a little over 2 months old. We picked her out 2 weeks ago and finally jumped through the last hoop to bring her home yesterday. Just like a baby, we thought she'd already changed in the two weeks since we first met her.

I was relieved to find out that her sister had already left the shelter. Now we're not the ones responsible for breaking up the family. Millie has a new family. I'm not sure either of them knows what to think about that.

Ralph has been put in charge of training Millie to be a farm dog. Brent's dog Mindy did the same for Ralph years ago.

At least the doghouse is finally getting some use. Ralph has always refused to enter it. Millie has already made herself at home.

To qualify for adoption, we had to:

• Have Ralph's and Big Cat's vaccinations up to date ... $200 later, they are.
• Pay $100 for vaccinations and spaying for Milly.
  
• Pay $26.45 for a collar and assorted puppy necessities.

Having a new dog: Priceless?

Well, that remains to be seen. But she is awfully cute.