You Get What You Need

This weekend didn't turn out the way I thought it would. However, I believe things always unfold the way they should, and that we get what we need, if not what (we think) we want.

Thursday night, the AC went out. Of course it did. We're in the midst of triple digit temps. I forgot how quickly the heat drains one of any and all energy. Mr. Fry was able to contact the AC firm that installed the unit nine years ago, and they agreed to come sometime Friday. Meanwhile, I kept the house closed up, made sure all ceiling fans were on high, and brought out the powerful floor fans we have, which Mr. Fry calls the 'tornado fans'. I parked in a comfy chair under a ceiling fan, a couple feet from a tornado fan, watching nothing on TV, dozing occasionally. The guy made it around 4 p.m. Thank you, God, that it was the fan motor and not the compressor. Still expensive, but it was hundreds, not thousands of dollars.

The temps outside were so oppressive, I stayed in as much as possible. I did some minor chores, but mostly just messed around on the computer and watched a bunch of nothing on TV while Mike slept. The horses were so miserable, they didn't want to be bothered, and stayed in the shade. They welcomed cool treats like watermelon.

Martha and I got an early start on the 4th, as we headed out to Home Depot in Gainesville. Martha charmed everyone. I left a little money in the local economy: got some chicken wire to put around the bottom of the fence to keep Martha in, a hose, and a couple cheap sprinklers. Mike keeps running over them with the tractor.

There sure were a lot of yayhoos with fireworks and guns this year. The horses did their best to find a place to wait it out, but it was all around us. You could smell the black powder the second you walked outside. Chula and Martha were beside themselves. We couldn't even get them outside to potty.

Yesterday (Sunday), we enjoyed a Texas rarity — the most lovely soaking rain in July! We got 1.25" of rain, and it stayed cloudy and cooler (in the 80s, I think) all day. Another lazy day with a tiny dog on my lap, watching nothing on TV, playing computer Scrabble.

Cindi aka Ratweasel

Martha, Ratweasel-in-Training

I have today off and have a vet appt. for Martha this morning. She needs her stitches removed from being spayed, and I want my vet to look at her. Her eyes run all the time and she has breath that would stop a train (just like Cindi). As soon as I get her home, she's getting a bath. Stinkin' little dog.

If temps remain cooler today, I may groom my snotty ponies. Nothing involving water, though, since it's still a muddy/sandy mess.

Hope y'all had a great weekend.

Join the Virtual Trail Ride - Starts Sunday, July 12
Aarene over at Haiku Farm is the trail boss for a virtual trail ride starting in Washington State, and meandering to visit everyone who cares to join. Sounds like fun to me, so I'm inviting all my friends — that would be you. C'mon, do something different. You have 'til Sunday, July 12 to do your post, which can be real or fantasy, as broad or detailed as you wish. Read about it here.

Join the Virtual Trail Ride

Aarene over at Haiku Farm is the trail boss for a virtual trail ride starting in Washington State, and meandering to visit everyone who cares to join. Sounds like fun to me, so I'm inviting all my friends — you. You have 'til Sunday, July 12 to do your post. Read about it here.

With a Little Bit of Luck

You can make just one mistake
It can take you to your grave
Honey, one bad move can
Turn your world upside down
It’s such a shame
Cause you’ve been so good up to now

"You’ve Been So Good Up To Now"
Lyle Lovett
From the 1992 album "Joshua Judges Ruth"

'Little Bit' is the name
the animal shelter gave Martha.

She has been my little —
and I mean LITTLE —
snuggle baby shadow since
I picked her up on Saturday.

Altogether now,
"How small is she?"

She's so small,
she makes Cindi
look like a big dog.

Both are JRT/Chihuahua.
Cindi is the size of a JRT but
looks like a fat Chihuahua.

Martha is the size of a Chihuahua,
stubby legged and barrel chested like a JRT.
She has that unmistakable JRT swagger.
Only thing big about her is ATTITUDE.

She weighs 8 lbs.
Look at those mousy feet.
They're the size of my thumbs!

Know what we call dogs
like that out here?
Coyote bait.
An average-sized hawk could take her.

She's feisty, with enough street smarts to understand the limitations of her size. She dodges things bigger than she is and stays out from underfoot. Well, most of the time.

If she wants something, she'll take on all comers to get it. Imagine this slip of a thing getting in the face of a 65-lb. Doberman. She even gave the Boyz some sass.

She's already slipped out of the dog yard twice. Mike says he'll try to tighten it up, but she may always be able to find a way out. We will never be able to let her run the full property. This dog's survival depends on the choices she makes, and they better be smart ones, namely:

• STAY here and don't wander
  
• Relax and get along with everyone
• Be Mom's dog

That last one's not a deal breaker; they like whom they like. Cindi and Chula are Dad's dogs. I'll do in a pinch — a distant second — when he's not around, but they will mow me down to get to Mike. Everybody loves Dad.

I'd love it if Martha would decide to be my dog.