Our Sedative-on-Legs

This is Layla in all her glory. The greyhound people call this legs-in-the-air sleeping "cockroaching".

Layla came to us four years ago as a rescued animal for foster care. She did not know how to be a member of the family. Layla had never used steps before, socialised with other dogs/cats/chooks/horses etc and certainly had not been in a paddock before or dealt with barbed wire. What she could do was eat. She was underweight and always hungry. She also could walk on lead beautifully. A very gentle girl who needed to learn a lot of things.

At first our Cyclone-on-Legs, Roger frightened her but she soon became more comfortable with him. Layla had no dog etiquette/socialisation skills and so was trounced more than once by Roger for breaking the dog rules. Unfortunately greyhounds have very thin skin and so she needed stitches more than once. Apart from Roger there was the barbed wire incidents, and so many vet bills later we were wondering if we had done the right thing by her and us. These lessons were quickly learnt.

Layla once chased the mini horses in play and was kicked so hard in the head that we had to have the vet reconstruct her skull. She has more respect for them now. Another lesson learnt.

Layla has what we like to call stealth mode. While she was still in her state of "must eat, must eat" she stole a lot of grocery items from our pantry. If one were lucky one would see said greyhound quietly but efficiently abscond with say a packet of Weet-Bix, desiccated coconut, noodles, bread crumbs, anything edible really. She never ran, just quietly walked in, picked up grocery item and walked out, no rustle of packet or dropping of contraband.

Her appetite was so acute that she once opened and finished a jar of skin cream (bee product based). Layla shocked us all once by passing poo-shaped cracked corn. Ouch! That must have hurt like hell. Greyhounds are supposed to have sensitive stomachs, obviously not this brindle thief.

Once Layla gained the required weight she did stop the pantry raids but I don't think she will ever forget her hungrier days and cannot be totally trusted with food at head height. She has been known to drink hot chocolate, steal biscuits and take sandwiches from the table. The greyhound people call this "table top surfing".

Layla has never chased the cat, she wanted to chase the chickens but was scolded and can be totally trusted with them now. She still gets excited when the horses run but keeps well clear. The two dogs are the best of friends and play every day. She has never learnt to play with people but is so very loyal to us. She takes big circular sprints in the paddocks until she is puffed (she originally did not like the grass and only walked on the cow tracks).

Everywhere I go in the house or yard, Layla comes to. I once tested it by walking up and down the hallway eight times without speaking or looking at her. She followed me each time without question. You can't ask for a more loyal dog than that.

Adopting a rescued dog is so rewarding. Greyhounds are often mistreated and disposable but when they live with your family they are so gentle, affectionate, clean (they do not have any doggy odour) and low maintenance. They are subject to the wrong reputation as aggressive and needing loads of exercise, none of this is true. Layla is our Sedative-on-Legs, Miss Calm, Cool and Collected, slightly food obsessed girl.

The New Girls

I was offered some bantams from a breeder of Wyandottes I know and so yesterday I went out, armed with a carry cage to get them. He had picked out one white and one cuckoo coloured one (the black and grey speckled one) for me.

He has about 400 birds and so I enjoyed checking out the different colours and types he had, all the time he was offering me roosters. As with all of us he had excess roosters. It became a joke in the end along with his joke about me having to knit scarves for my naked necks. I did admire his frizzle hen (crossed with a wyandotte) and so he gave me that one too. Very generous man, I could have come home with at least five had I wanted to. I love the dishevelled look on the frizzle, as if she had stuck her claw in the powerpoint. I will name her Sparky in honour of her unusual feathering.

I asked him if I could put them straight in with a rooster and he said it would be fine. What sort of rooster would that be? A naked neck of course. I think he shuddered at the thought of his lovely purebreads being contaminated by that ugliest of breeds but can you imagine a frizzle x naked neck? What a vision!

Early Morning Balloon Ride

These balloons bring people over the countryside from the coast very early in the morning and on their return the passengers are treated to a champaigne brekky.
Sometimes they come over our property and our dogs bark at them, the dogs don't know where the sound of the gas flame comes from but they know it is a foreign noise and must be barked at.

Winter Sunset

Loose Bruce

I always knew Bruce was fond of me but I had thought it was more or less a "you let me out in the mornings, you feed me" kind of affection. It appears he has the hots for me! He thinks I am randy gander material. Huh! I have news for him. It is just not on. These photos show him with his Come Hither look and my foot preventing him from taking the big plunge so to speak. He keeps showing me where the water is but I know what happens in the water and baby, he can keep whistling Dixie. He apparently has the hots for the teenagers of the house too so, unless I am misreading goose body language, Bruce is one loose goose. (Yes I know he is a gander but what rhymes with gander anyway?). He is still cute and not a problem so far but Fanny is not quite as fond of him as he is of her. I can see why these randy ganders need a flock of geese instead of just one. He will just have to cope I am afraid.

Splice & Crepsley

These are our new pets, African Lovebirds. They are just beautiful don't you think? I have them in a snake proof, large cage on wheels. So much easier to move them around from sunny spot to shade etc. I bought the Lime Fischer bird and named her Splice after the ice block her colouring reminds me of. The Dynamic Daughter bought the Blue Fischer and named him Crepsley after a character from a series of books she reads and collects by Darren Shan. They are such clowns. I was given a peach faced lovebird for my 21st birthday all those years ago and she was with me for many years. They are a happy, chirpy bird (huh, yet another crappy joke my kids would groan at).

Keep posted, hopefully I will have no disaster befall these two to report.

Panic Stations Everyone!

The Young Negotiator has passed his Driver Knowledge Test and is now a Learner Driver..........yeah I know, scary huh? We had our first session in the front paddock today with lots of stalling of the motor and kangarooing in first gear. The car has quite a deep clutch pedal so it takes a bit of co-ordination, especially when stopping. Deep clutch, shallow brake and we both appreciated the seat belts! Paddock not really set up for a small car so we bounced around somewhat but we had some laughs and he managed to improve a bit. And so it starts, another era in our babies' growing up.

He was actually old enough to learn to drive one year ago, when he turned 16, but he and quite a few of his friends decided they were not ready. Another year of growing up hasn't hurt. There has been a lot of negative media stories regarding the P-plater (provisional driver) and a few fatalities regarding young people in the area. But I have to say I see a lot of older, more experienced drivers make mistakes (including myself) and I have seen many do stupid and dangerous things.

I remember when I had my P Plates it took me half a block to realise that you cannot actually watch the road and read a map at the same time. Duh! And that you shouldn't take your little Datsun 1200 Coupe (baby poop brown) through flood waters. No, really?! And whatever you do keep an eye on the petrol gauge, the fuel is not endless. We are all a bit dumb when we start out.

Wish us luck, this is number one of two teenagers to learn to drive and with 120 hours to fill in in the log book it is going to be a big year (both times).

Our Comfort Zones

Does anyone else find them hard to break out of? I found it hard pre injury but damn terrifying afterwards. I was a typical teenager and young adult and regularly broke from my comfort zone with great gusto but as an older adult (I always feel strange calling myself an adult) it became quite a forced thing. Those comfort zones are so cozy and warm but best of all, predictable. Post injury they were the things anxiety attacks (mild) were made of. My short term memory dysfunction made the retaining of new information very difficult and this in turn would strip me of my confidence which would then send me into a tail-spin of anxiety and indecision. Thankfully these extremes are in the past but I still have a fairly rigid comfort zone.

I admire my friends and acquaintances that have broken out of their personal comfort zones. I have friends who have tackled a new and exciting sport or a late-onset career, study at tertiary level or university and I think to myself that they are so brave. But they are ordinary women and men. We don't have to accept life as it is, we need to be proactive and brave. There is no need to sit there in your cozy comfort zone and complain that your life is boring/unsatisfactory/wrong. Get up off your arse and do something about it. Ditch the comfort zone, one small step at a time or take a giant leap. Sometimes it will have unfortunate outcomes.....like a Piece of Poop horse that throws you head first into the ground. I had never owned a riding horse before and I had a steep learning curve. But even this can be learnt from. My life is so much richer now with the appreciation of my friends and family, of life and a collection of 'head' jokes. I have a lifetime of excuses for forgetting lunch dates/birthdays etc. Sometimes it can be all good........like my tennis lessons. I had to enrol in them twice just to retain the information but met some great people and had so much fun.

I am using the Young Negotiator's laptop again, the one without the DELETE key. Wow I am going all out today.

OK, lecture over. Have a great day!

I'm Cured! (Official White Lie)

An Observation.

My friends and family are used to me announcing "I'm cured!" every now and then. They just role their eyes and agree with me half-heartedly. Sometimes I am travelling so well, I achieve such unprecedented post injury feats that I feel that I am, in fact, cured. A great feeling comes over me of pride and ambition but then, as can be expected, reality hits me and I have to ease back on my plans. It does not make me sad or disappointed but I have enjoyed the high of being 'cured' for a while. Little windows of energy are always welcome because, as you know, I am cured!