Explanation

 Good morning, dear Blogger friends. Thank you for your comments and care on the previous post. The dogs in question are very friendly, within reason. However, they do not permit anyone without authority into their garden. Until that penultimate day in 2023, this always pertained to humans. With Scabby venturing into their turf (he was following me), they took great offence and attacked. Each one on its own would be a fair match for Scabby, but together, mother and son are a killer team.

They are also the "yard or outside" dogs and when the owners (who treat them quite well, feeding and housing them) are away, they spend their days at my garden fence. And when I am in the office, they both lie at my feet under my desk. I bear them no animosity - at all! In fact, in the photos of the previous post, you see Scabby chewing his bone. These two dogs were waiting at the fence, as I have smaller bones (for economic purposes) which I throw over the fence for them. The young male is very agile and leaps into the air to catch his treat. 

Meanwhile, this past week has been terrible for me. At Parkrun last week (minus Scabby, as it's too hot at the moment), I managed to reach the 800m mark; stopped and turned around. I never ever give up on anything I embark on, and this was a first for me. The volunteers at the end were horrified, as they knew something was amiss.

I couldn't breathe properly, and my legs had just refused to obey me. I sat at the end, commiserating that I could perhaps have done the 5km. 

Instead, I found myself driving into town to the doctor. He summarily did a Covid test - positive!

I drove home armed with painkillers and a three-day course of antibiotics. I had notified my neighbors and subsequently, I have been in quarantine for the past week.

I am still not out of the woods. Normally I can push through pain and discomfort and chivvy myself to get moving, but this [the second time] that I had the dreadful virus, has really floored me.

On Friday, I drove to the Bunker to clean after the last guests and prepare for the next ones.  As you can see by the photo below, not much enthusiasm went into polishing the wood surfaces! 

 I am spending the weekend resting: no Parkrun (definitely!) and no church. I need to be re-energized and ready for work at the farm office on Monday morning. 

I used my limited surrounds to look for interesting critters and sights. 

A centipede found its way into my kitchen

Chappie not at all fazed by the creepy critter at her tail. Using a piece of paper, I let the centipete walk onto it and tipped it in the garden 

The Tecomaria blooms reflected in Scabby's plodging bowl caught my eye and I had to share it!

I'm linking to Saturday Critters with Eileen, here.

Here's wishing you all a healthy and happy Saturday! 

 

A distaster averted

 Good morning, dear Blogger friends. As described on Wednesday, I was all alone on the farm, although during the day I had three staff here and the farmer next door whom I could call in an emergency. 

Once I'd returned from Parkrun, I settled in at my desk to clear some of the admin for the week. While sitting there, I heard the two Labradors next door attack the old Staffie. This happened every time the owners were away. I always dashed into their yard and bellowed at them which seemed to work. They would leave the old dog and she would slink aways around the house to lick her wounds. 

This Saturday, I reacted no different. I ran outside and through my gate, (which I realized afterwards I'd not latched properly,) into their garden, also leaving that gate unlocked. The dogs had left the Staffie, and I ran around the house to see where she was. She was not at the back, and I dashed back to the front. As I looked up the path, I saw a dog with a collar in the garden. Not one of the neighbor's dogs have collars and I realized that it was Skabby. He had followed me through both open gates. 

My blood ran cold when I saw the two Labs running up and circling him.  I pulled a couple of bricks from a crumbling garden wall (on a farm of over 100 years, things tend to crumble) and sprinted to the three dogs. By now the other two dogs had hold of Skabby. One had his right cheek and the other had him by the ear. I hurled the bricks at the male dog but he didn't even flinch.

By now I had reached the dogs and I was screaming blue murder. I had hold of Skabby's collar but as I'd pull him away from one dog, the other dog took a firmer grip. Skabby also got a few bites in. I thought of poking the male Lab in the eye, yet all the while I was concerned that I had my hands and arms so close the viciously snapping jaws. And all the time I was screaming like a banshee! In this milieu, I was thinking imagine the vet bill on a New Year's weekend. And I also thought, my dog is going to be killed. 

I must have been calling Star, because she ran into the garden and also threw a brick at the male, but as he let go, his mother took hold of Skabby's cheek again. I shouted to Star to bring water. Thankfully, my Zulu studies helped her to understand me. She returned within a minute with a tiny 500ml bucket (we buy raw honey in these containers) filled with water. As she splashed it over the three dogs' heads, they all let go.

Incredible...

She chased the two dogs towards their home while I pushed Skabby out of the yard. She followed me to my gate and patting her chest she said; Eish (Zulu for phew). I, close to laughing hysterically, said:  Star, I am forty years older than you, what do you think my heart is doing right now. 

These dogs had known each other for the past six years I've lived here. They have snapped, growled and barked through the fence. But with Skabby trespassing on their turf, there had to be a confrontation. 

Skabby enjoying his bone on the lawn in my garden

The two Labs next door. 

All's well that ends well. Skabby got off with not a single puncture or wound. When I went into the house next door later to check on the dogs, I saw the male had dripped blood on the veranda floor. And his mother limped painfully to the corner when she saw me.

I have never, ever seen dogs fighting. Let alone been in the thick of it.  This was the first time and hope the last. I never want to live through that again.

HAPPY FRIDAY TO YOU ALL!

23 days into the New Year!

 Good morning, Blogger friends. Once again, I played hookey from Blogging, but it was not intentional. From Christas through to 2nd January, I normally have the whole week off. And I had hoped to blog hop and post in that period. 

As you all know, from Christmas post that Farmer John had a nasty turn and was transported by ambulance to the city. Unbeknown to us, he had convinced the doctor to discharge him. He said (and it was true) that his son was due to leave on an overseas trip with his wife and there would be no-one at the farm.

However, on the Thursday night he began to have anxiety attacks. On Friday they had an appointment with the doctor who said his blood is very thick and he is in danger of a clot forming. The doctor said Farmer John needed to be hospitalized. Once again that evening we were standing on the farmyard waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

Once again, Farmer John was loaded into the ambulance and his wife got into the passenger seat next to the driver. When they drove off, I thought: well, that means I am all alone on this farm!

The next morning, Star arrived to feed both the other houses' dogs (there are twenty in total). The herdsman arrived to take the cattle from one paddock to the other. Nelsiwe was at her post in the mill, selling maize meal. 

Farmer John's brother farms next door and his son came over to execute a few tasks that the Farmer John would have done that day. I handed him a bunch of keys and telling me to call him if I needed him, he went off into the shed. 

Feeling quite proud of myself for managing the farm so well, so far, I got into my car and went to Parkrun. 

To be continued...