Merry Soggy Christmas!

Merry Christmas from water-logged Zephyr Hill Farm!  Come along with us on our Christmas Day swim drive!  For the record, these photos were a lot darker, but I lightened them enough to show details.  It never got this light all day!

At 10 this morning, the creek through the lower part of our property was overflowing its banks after several days of rain followed by almost 3 inches of rain in the last 24 hours.

By 2:30, there was a lot more water.  No wonder, since the rain never let up all day!

We headed out to take a look at things.  Looking down at the Lower Pasture from above, we can see channels carved by runoff from the neighbors' adjoining hill that was deforested this year.

The Lower Pasture has a creek running through it where no creek should be.

Normally the "creek" is a dry bed that runs along the fence before it cuts across the Lower Pasture, but today it was a torrent.

Standing at the Back Pasture gate, we could see the water pouring out of the pond.  So far, the dam is holding . . .

We parked the Doodad and waded to the gate.  Misty is such a faithful companion, always ready to come with us and check on things, no matter the weather.

Ebby, Royal and Ebby's calf Seb are in the Back Pasture.  They're going to need a new hay bale soon, but at least we don't have to fill water troughs!  That tipped-over thing is a heavy wooden mineral feeder that was here when we bought the place.

Herb really likes his Muck boots and his LLBean rain coat and rain pants!

"This deep."

This photo shows the pond runoff on the left.  The drainage pipe discharges water coming in from the hunting preserve off to the right.  Those two streams of water join up here . . .

. . . and pour toward the front of our property, overwhelming the normally dry creek bed.

We headed back up toward the house, very thankful for hills!  Royal and his band have a hill and wooded shelter; Wellie and Remy are in the Home Pasture which is a hill with a shelter up top; Siobhan is in the barnyard, which may be soggy because it's flat, but she's got the barn.  The chicken coop is in the barnyard, too.

Just beyond Wellie and Remy's shelter, the horses are on the highest part of the farm.  They may be wet, but their hay is high and dry in their new Hay Hut.

A flood like this brings worries about whether fences will stand, whether trees might fall, and whether the dam will hold.  It brings slogging mud and damp and inconvenience, but up on our hills, we and the animals are safe.

I must admit that after days and days of rain, I've looked around and imagined how the people back in Noah's day must have felt as the water crept higher and higher.  Of course, they had no idea it was going to keep coming until it drowned them.  It makes me thankful for God's promise never to flood the earth again.  I'll be eagerly looking for some sun and a rainbow, but meanwhile, we have so much to be thankful for!

Christmas may feel different when it's soggy and muggy instead of cold and brisk, yet the reason we celebrate is still the same.  "Joy to the world, the Lord has come!"

Merry Christmas!

*We ended up getting 4.14" of rain in less than 24 hours on Christmas Day, about twice the all-time high.  We're still here, the only casualty being the overturned feeder you can see behind the cattle in the Back Pasture.  We got another torrential rainfall on the 28th with an even higher flood level, so we sure were ready for the sunshine we're getting today, Dec. 29!

After the Turkey is Gone

Our Thanksgiving dinner was pretty much like everyone else's.  It's what came next that was different . . .

While much of the nation was being inundated with rain and cold, we were blessed with a sunny day of shirt-sleeve weather on Thanksgiving and again on Black Friday.  So Herb blew a huge pile of leaves to make the perfect photo backdrop.

Monique and Jim and the grandkids . . .

. . . Jean-Marc and Jenny and Tai . . .

 . . . and Kara and Bonnie.

Later that day the grandkids wanted to visit the horses.  Julie was happy to see the kids and generously gave out pony kisses.

The horses haven't been ridden in a year, but Romeo, Angel and Brandy stood so still while the kids sat on them bareback.

On Saturday we saddled the horses and went for a real ride.  Well, some of us rode!  Herb led Brandy for Kol to ride.

Jean-Marc led Romeo with Jenny up bareback.

Jim led Julie and Charis.

I led Angel with Monique and Eden riding, although Jim took over for the photo op.

Notice that every rider wears a helmet.  We are firm believers in the importance of wearing protective riding helmets and teaching the kids to wear them, too.  They may not be pretty or "cool," but they're an indispensable part of horsey fun on our farm.  Helmets have kept various members of our family safe on multiple occasions throughout the years.

We have much to be thankful for this holiday season--family, food, falling leaves, and fond memories made on this beautiful farm.

Helping Me Over the Hill

As I mentioned back in June, the month of July was scheduled for a big family get-together.  It ended up being a month-long celebration to help me "over the hill" for the Big 6-0.  My two sisters, Barbara and Karen, arrived July 1 to kick things off.

Of course visiting me means hanging out with my Dexters.  Barbara has met them before, but it was Karen's first time here on Zephyr Hill Farm, so she had to meet the whole crew.  Here she is petting her first cow, Ebby.

Barbara discovered that when there aren't enough barn boots to go around, cowboy boots work fine for mud, too.

We did some civilized, "girly" things, too, like antiquing--an especially appropriate activity for an old-timer like me!

The last time the three of us were together was five years ago, so this was a special time for us all.  Someone has to be the oldest and hit 60 first, so it might as well be me.  As I like to remind my sisters and my kids, "If I can't be a good example, I'll just have to serve as a horrible warning."

Sadly, the girls had to leave before my actual birthday, but others came to take their place . . .

We celebrated that night at my favorite restaurant with all of us locals: Jim, Monique, Herb, me, Katie (who came in from Houston), and Kara.

Before Katie headed back to Houston, we modeled our new Billy Bob teeth.  What can I say?  It's a family tradition!  She also took me shopping while she was here, so now I actually clean up nice.

Kara had spent weeks planning a special birthday menu that spanned much of July.  Since we love ethnic food, she cooked up an Around the World Food Tour of places we've visited and cuisines we enjoy, including German, African, Persian, Egyptian, Italian, Greek, Spanish and Mexican.

This was the twelve-course Persian meal she prepared one night with a little help from her Minions.

Jim and Monique brought the grandkids for a weekend, and they kept me young at heart.

Jenny and Jean-Marc came down from Ohio to join the local yokels, and we all got our own pair of teeth for some family photo fun.

Misty had to get in on the act, too, and the kids couldn't bear to take out their teeth, so the "serious" photo was only about as serious as it ever gets in this clan.  Fun times to remember, though!

When everyone else had to go home, Jenny and Jean-Marc stayed on.  They were able to use up some leave and get some rest before heading to their new base.

About the time Jenny and Jean-Marc left, Barbara came back with the rest of her family for another week of fun and laughter, like enjoying my youngest nephew's attempt to walk on water.  (Just kidding--see the swinging rope over his head?)

The month of July finally drew to an end and so, like all good things, did the longest-ever birthday bash.  After we waved goodbye to the last of the family, Herb turned to me and jokingly said, "Well, it's over.  You're not special any more."

I didn't believe him, though--I had an entire month full of lovely memories to remind me otherwise.

When God Sends a Gift

Driving home from Chattanooga on a couple weeks ago, I suddenly stopped the car in the middle of the road.  There near the edge of the road, heading into a patch of dense woods, was a tiny puppy--too tiny to be wandering alone.  I called the puppy and it came right up to me.  I picked it up and drove to the nearest house to see if it was theirs.  It wasn't, and all we could assume was that someone had dumped one more defenseless puppy out in the country, although we couldn't figure out why on earth someone would dump such an adorable, friendly puppy.

I called every vet we know, but they were all closed for the weekend, so I drove home with the puppy curled up in my lap.  Kara pitched in, and we gave the puppy some water, which it lapped thirstily.  We fed it a bit of milk and some congealed meat juice, then gave it a bath.

As we bathed it, several things became obvious:  It was a boy, it was skin and bones, and it was swarming with ticks.  I started removing ticks, but it soon became clear the puppy needed more help than I could give him at home.  Kara offered to drive us to R.I.V.E.R., the emergency animal clinic in Chattanooga, so off we went.  On the way, we decided to name the puppy Kona, Hawaiian for "trade wind."  The first dog we had in France was named "Alizée," which is French for trade wind, and it seemed to fit my theme of wind names which began with Zephyr, Misty (Mistral) and Jet.

At the animal hospital a sweet tech named Becca took us to a room.  She began to remove ticks, and we counted as she pulled them off and dropped them into a vial of alcohol.  After a while, Kona got some prescription dog food and Becca drew blood.  While she went to run the tests, I kept removing ticks.

By the time the vet came to see us, we had some numbers:  At approximately six weeks old, Kona weighed 2.5 lbs. instead of the 5 lbs. he should have weighed.  Even after eating, his glucose was only 62 instead of over 100, which it should have been.  The worst news was his PCV or percentage of red blood cells.  Instead of a normal of 35, Kona's was only 11.  That explained his white gums and tongue, as well as his weakness and lethargy.  Basically, his life blood was being drained by starvation and the ticks.  We were up to 180 by the time I left, and before Becca was done for the night, she had removed over 200 ticks from Kona's tiny body.  She told Kara and me that her previous record in school was a full-grown pit bull that had 100 ticks on it.  I'm not sure that's the kind of record a puppy wants to break at such a young age!

In consultation with the vet, we decided to leave Kona overnight for treatment:  IV fluids, a blood transfusion, prophylactic antibiotics for tick-borne diseases, treatment for intestinal parasites, and a re-feeding regimen.  The vet called us before she left for the night and told us that the blood transfusion raised Kona's PCV to 20, and that he stood and wagged his tail.  When I heard that news, I was pretty sure he would make it.

Before we headed home, Kara called and gave Herb the heads-up that I had found a stray puppy, was getting it treated at the animal hospital, and planned to keep it.  Herb thought she was joking!  He told me later he didn't mind me helping the puppy, but he sure didn't want another dog!  I told him that the puppy had snuggled right into my heart, but that he was going to need a lot of care to recover, and meanwhile we could keep an open mind . . .

Sunday we brought Kona home, quite an improvement over the bedraggled creature I had picked up the day before.  Kona met Hero . . .

. . . and Misty.  He wasn't afraid, just respectfully humble the way a teeny puppy should be.

The grandkids were at the house, and they couldn't wait to meet the new puppy.  Hugs and cuddles were shared all around, and Kona generously handed out kisses and tail wags.  The eldest asked, "Are you going to keep the puppy?"  (Smart little girl!)

Kara told her to ask Didi.  (Smart young woman!)

Take a look at the way our youngest granddaughter clutched Kona in her arms, and tell me what you think Herb said . . .

That was an easy guess, wasn't it?!

Yes, Kona has a home!  I told Herb that his appearance at the exact moment I drove by was an "act of God," and I meant it.  It's incredible to me that such a sweet puppy could have been discarded, but God did not intend this special part of His creation to be wasted, so He literally dropped Kona into my lap!

I remember telling one of my daughters many years ago, "When God sends you a gift, even if you didn't ask for it and even if the timing isn't what you might have chosen, you don't say, 'No thanks!'  You take it in both your hands and say, 'Thank you!'"

So . . . thank You, Lord!

Update:

With company over Memorial Day weekend and the arrival of Siobhan's calf, I didn't get Kona's story posted. However, he quickly wagged his way into all of our hearts.

Just a few days after his arrival, he was sleeping in my lap when Herb walked by. Kona woke up, jumped up wagging his tail, and whined for Herb. I told Herb Kona wanted some loving, so he came over and petted him. Kona kept whining until Herb picked him up. Then Kona settled into Herb's arms and gave tiny little moans of delight, while Herb stood there grinning in delight, too.

Yesterday I spent about five hours treating Siobhan (that will be another post) for mastitis.  When I came in at about 8 pm, I found out that Kona had been acting like he was trying to throw up.  He began doing it more frequently, wheezing at the same time, and about 10 pm Kara drove us to RIVER again.  There we learned some very sad news.  Kona has food bloat because his food has not moved through his stomach and intestines properly, although I did ask our vet about his distended tummy.  He also has aspiration pneumonia with fever, which is causing the wheezing.  And finally, he seems to have megaesophagus, probably the congenital variety, which often appears at weaning, leading to emaciation (and perhaps making him prey to so many ticks) and aspiration pneumonia.  This would explain--although never, ever excuse--why someone might have dumped such a precious puppy.

We had to leave Kona at RIVER again, and it looks like he'll be there for a while longer.  He's still bloated, though somewhat better.  (My concern is whether the lack of esophageal peristalsis carries into his intestines and what that would mean for his prognosis.)  His fever is a little better, but his breathing is still difficult.  He's in an oxygen box, receiving antibiotics and nebulizer treatments.

When Kara and I went to tell him goodbye last night, I picked him up out of the oxygen box, and he wagged his little tail like crazy and licked all over my face.  Kara got the same treatment.  When we put him back, he was so weak and tired he laid down at the edge and peered out at us.  I said, "Look Kara, Kona's looking at us!" and he wagged his little tail again.

We're asking God for another gift, that He would heal Kona so he can come home again and have a chance at a happy life.  This little puppy is a ball of love, which he lavishes on all comers, and we love him right back.  Right now there's a huge Kona-sized hole in our home.