210529 ...until the cows come home!

May 29

The cows came mooing and mooing up our hill to spend a few weeks here. The farmer rotates the herd around several properties during the summer. Later they will be taken over to Rain and Tal's farm. This morning they are gathered by the old barn. One is nibbling on the wise witch. There are babies, too. When I walk out to see them they watch me. They will probably get used to us soon and pay no attention once they know we don't mean harm. Do we have herd immunity?

*****

Rain and I buried Fig by the chicken house on Thursday. It is near where he liked to go and drink from the little stream that ran by there early in the spring. It is dry now unless we get a heavy rain. He is surrounded by sensitive ferns under a young willow. I wanted him near the house rather than over near the ridge stream. We put a cairn over the grave, because it wasn't very deep. We ran into a big rock before we dug too far.

I walked to the ridge on Thursday, missing Fig. As I walked down the meadow again I missed, suddenly, the Fig that might have been had he not been ill, still able to see, to run and play across the meadow, bounding ahead of me then running back to join me again.

A favorite memory. He left the hydro field one cold winter day and I caught up with him crossing the road, dressed in his little jacket. I called to him and he turned, stood in the middle of the road and the look on his face said: "WHAT? I'm f***ing freezing! I'm going home!" Clearer words were never spoken, I swear! He was vicious when he was a puppy and didn't hesitate to aggressively bite the hand that disturbed him. He was part terrier and fearless. He was like a wild wolf pup. They even put a tiny muzzle on him at the vet. So I asked the vet if there was something I could do about it. The technician gave me a photocopied page of training info. Six months later I took Fig back to the vet and the technician remarked how much better he was - didn't even need a muzzle. He asked me how I did it. I replied that I only followed the photocopied instructions that he gave me. He said, "Oh! I've never seen it work before!" Now he tells me! But I was consistent and firm and fortunately knew by then how to train a dog, having had Betty for nine years. Fig lived with Betty and Shy, both Bouvier crosses, weighing 105 and 135 pounds respectively, so he had no fear of big dogs. He was Shy's superior in the pecking order and regularly put her in her place. So when the pair of dobermans who played in the field came to say hello. he fiercely scolded them and off they ran! It was such a sight to see! Blackie too, was kept in his place as his inferior, leaping back if Fig growled!

*****

A facebook acquaintance brought me some broken angels recently. (Thank you, C.!) They matched a chipped set of plates that were donated to me. A project is born.

A butterfly came to see the china I was breaking. Drawn by the colour? It stayed and visited with me for a long time, settling on my hand. I felt as if it was channeling Fig's spirit, coming to say hello. A butterfly has never befriended me before.

*****

Hay-scented ferns and lady ferns grow at my kitchen window. What magic! Generous nature: we are given beauty, eyes to see it and a heart to feel joy.

*****

The cows have gone over to the ridge now, probably to the pond for a drink. Have a pleasant weekend and keep safe. We are not out of the covid woods yet.

Mumma Yaga

Fig remembered:

Fig and Betty.