Play Dead.

A long time ago we decided to go to a store every one of our friends had told us about.
     It was in the middle of nowhere. The directions went something like this Take the road that goes to Conway. Turn right at the grocery store. Go until you see a farm on your left with a sign at the end of the fence that says Meat Packing  1 mile. Turn left there and go down that dirt road until you come to a fork. Take the fork to the left and go until you see the store on your left. The road gets worse and worse, but keep going. You are in the right place.
       This is part of the explanation of how we ended up with 9 dogs and six cats. 
     One Saturday morning we got in the old Suburban we used as a farm vehicle. Can't drive it in the rain because it has some holes in the side and we don't want it to rust. Can't drive it in the freezing weather because the only heat comes through the vent and there is not enough to defrost the windshield.
    Can sell it because it has 4 new Michelin tires that are worth more than the SUV. We also use it to take small animals to the vet.
    Ah, I am going in the wrong direction. We got about six miles down the road and a Bassett hound was laying in the middle of the road. We stopped the car to see if it was hurt. That dog did not move a muscle. 
    My passenger jumped out of the car and ran to the dog. I sat in the Suburban with cars honking and going around while she took a look at the dog.
     As soon as she got to the dog and leaned over to check it out, the dog up, ran to the open car door and jumped in. She didn't stop there. She went over the back seat and the third seat and ended up in the cargo area.

      I was so busy sitting with my mouth wide open in utter amazement that I almost missed the other two dogs who ran out of the tall grass off the shoulder of the road and followed her exact path.
   We now had three dogs in the back of the car.
    We needed to move off the road and assess the situation. 

    My idea was to leave the dogs and if they were there when we came back we would pick them up.
     The answer was. "I couldn't live with myself if we came back and one of them was actually smashed on the road."
     I left all the windows down in the car while we were in the store so if they wanted to leave, they could. 
     They didn't,
      The Bassett hound had just had babies, the Rat Terrier was an intact male and the puppy looked like you would expect that match up to look like.
       I wanted to add a picture of Odie, the youngest one, but it is too dark outside.
      Zoi, the Bassett, crossed the Rainbow Bridge last year. Jack is sixteen and follows my every step. Odie is twelve. 
      Sometimes the seemingly most unhandy events turn out to be a  big blessing.
Come back and visit me again, There is always something going on at the farm.
Leave a comment here or you can reach me at susankeenebooks@gmail.com



    

Apples, Apples, and more Apples

  

Here on the farm, we have five varieties of apples-Gala, Fuji, Red Delicious, Jonagold, and Arkansas Blacks.
Seems like each year one variety takes the spotlight. This year it was Fuji. 

Due to the draught, our apples were small. When I sold them at the Farmer's Market next to a man who had 5000 apple trees (we had 154), he would laugh and say my apples were too small. His fruit looked as if it came out of a catalog. Of course, it looked like that because it was sprayed every month, twelve months a year.
 We are all natural. We use no sprays or fertilizers other than chicken, sheep, and cow manure.
 The Farmer's Market is where I learned how few children and adults in a certain group eat fruit. 

I took a wicker basket and filled it full of apples and pears. Every child who passed my truck, I offered a piece of fruit. At least two children a week ask - which is the apple and which is the pear? Kids were familiar with applesauce and apple pie, but not real apples. Most had never seen or eaten a pear. My goal the first year was to educate children about fruit.  Now mind you, it wasn't all the kids. But the ones who didn't know fruit belonged to the parents who visited the pie lady, the cookie lady, and the guy with the honey sticks.

I was so upset about it I wrote a children's book about how apples are grown in an orchard, Diggitty Dog on the Farm.

Do you know stone fruits, such as peaches, plums, and nectarines
bloom first and then leaf out? Fruits like apples get their leaves first and then the blossoms. Many peach crops don't make it in the colder regions because of it. We only get a peach crop here at the farm about every five years. 

 There are so many stories to share about the farm. Come back again soon. 
You can email me at susankeenebooks@gmail.com or leave a comment below.
Peace.

Free To Good Home

I have been slack in writing my blog. So many things going on since retirement, I wonder how I ever had time to work. Days fill in so quickly, I am rethinking what is important and what isn't. This time of year, it is animals.
The sheep love the cold weather, but don't like precipitation  of any kind. The horses love to run in cold weather, it makes them feel frisky. The cows don't seem to notice the weather one way or the other. They want hay in the feeders and water in the tanks We had a new calf this week. They are usually born in the worst weather. The first one born here on the farm was born in a snow storm in a wet weather creek bed. We were sure it wouldn't make it an hour, but its mother had a sense of how to take care of it and moved it to higher ground. When it was three days old she proudly brought it up to the top of the field to show it off.


The outside dogs stay in their houses on gloomy days. They are packed with warm fresh straw and toasty warm. On sunny days they romp and play. The inside dogs are spoiled and don't want to move from in front of the fireplace.


My new book, Diggitty the Dog Saves Christmas came out last week. I'm having fun with it. Diggitty now has a stamp of her paw print and signs all the books. She still doesn't like personal appearances, so I don't bother her with them. To see the new book you can click on this link http://tinyurl.com/m735588 .


Right now I am working on Finding Lizzy Smith. It is a book about a 30 something woman who was a cop until her husband was shot execution style. She has too much empathy for the victims and their families and quits her job. Now, Kate Nash, is a PI. Her cases are entertaining in the background while she is working on finding her friend Lizzy Smith who misses a meeting. Two more of her friends are killed and all of this is related. Mwaaaaaaaa................ you have to read the book!


As a member of the board of the Friends of the Garst Memorial Library in Marshfield, we are planning a trivia Night for January 24, 2015. It should be fun. We will have pizza, snacks and a real MC. If you live anywhere near Marshfield , Missouri you should consider a table with your friends.

I'm going to take a more active role in Sleuth's Ink Mystery Writers next year. More news on that later. Also, I would like to add more trips to St. Louis to see the Grandkids and those people they live with and more trips to Tulsa to play with Diane.


I have a mental bucket list but now I am writing it down. I am working on visualization and trying to spend more time in meditation, watch less television and read more books. Listening isn't one of my strong points so working on it is another priority.


One of my favorite things is speaking about writing and/or encouraging people to attain their goals. I'm hoping to increase the time I spend doing that.


Happy Thanksgiving all.

Joys of Living in the Country, REALLY?

    I find myself getting up two hours early to drive to Springfield for a meeting. The sheep must be let out into the field. Everyone has to have water and all the dogs and cats are sure their throats have been cut. After all, they haven't eaten since last night, a long 9 hours ago. They are being annoying and hovering around because I might forget to feed them. It matters not that none of them have ever missed a meal.


I know what your thinking. You think I am whining. If you don't like living on the farm, move to the city. It is not as simple as it seems.








We have 10 dogs, 6 cats, 24 cows, 12 calves, 19 meat sheep, two mules, five horses and 4 donkeys.
When I think of moving to the city my first dilemma  is who will I get rid of.








No one. They are all near and dear to me. The outside dogs, Bo, Woody and Odi have never been out of the yard. I can leave the gate open but they will not come through it. God have mercy on any turtle , snake, or raccoon who gets off path and goes into their territory. On the other hand, they are only kings of their domain and they don't want to increase it.








Zoi, the basset hound lives in another area because she is so obnoxious, the dogs don't even like her.
Now, who would take these wonderful animals and love them like we do.








Did I mention, Roady, the boxer without a brain? You heard me correctly, this boxer has no brain. She would kill herself to get inside and out of a thunderstorm or away from the sound of gunshots during hunting season.  I had hopes of giving her away once. The advertisement for her would have read as follows:  Free to good home, A boxer.Lovable, doesn't come when she is called. Loves to chase sheep and bite at their legs, eats her way though chain link fence and outside doors to escape loud noises. Once got into the dog food and ate 40 pounds. Pooped for two weeks and drank water continually for 11  days.  Will deliver.


Trust me, no one answeredthe ad.




Now we have Diggitty the Dog, Chi Chi,  and Pinny, along with Gambie and Jack. They would be more than happy to let a thief in, show them where the treasures are hidden and help them carry it to the get-away- car. Are you getting the gist of why I live here?








Let's talk cats! Spooky (got him at Halloween) is almost 15 and lives on the back porch. I don't think he ever leaves the back yard. Greatest cat ever. Jersey Girl, is a hunter. She comes up for dinner about 6 each evening. If she doesn't come I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Splash and Jesse live in the wood shop and when we came home from vacation last time there was a kitten in there. She had torn the screen and come in to live. See, life is so good here they break in to become a member of the Bowen Creek Farm Family.






This is running a little long so I will stop for today. Look for part two of  Life on the Farm in a few days.

The Adventures of Diggitty Dog

The Adventures of Diggitty Dog

I am a firm believer that if you get an idea that will not go away, it is destiny.  You are doing yourself a big disservice if you do not act on it.
 For the past several months, I have had an idea about a series of children's books that teach children something in a fun way.  My dog Diggitty is going to be my hero. Diggitty, who is pictured above, lives on a big farm and takes kids on adventures while teaching them how things grow and live on a farm.
This idea has been in my head so long, I was able to write the first book in less than two hours.  Today I finished book two.
It isn't that the books were so easy to write but that they rattled around until they were complete and only needed to be written down.
The turning point from thinking to writing came the other night when I sat and watched Beth Carter, Allison Merritt and Tierney James give their book reviews at the Friends of the Library in Marshfield last Tuesday night.
I was proud of them.  They did a great job.  That night I asked myself what I was waiting for and the answer came back.  Nothing.
So, be sure to check back and follow the Adventures of Diggitty Dog.  She is a hoot and you might just learn something about gardening, animals, and the antics of an eight pound protagonist.

Pets

Pets

.  This morning I want to talk about stray animals.  When we moved to the farm eight years ago, I had a dog, Diggitty.  Diggitty is a miniature dauchhund. My farm partner had a min pin.  I had the world's greatest black lab named Griffin and a boxer with no brain, Roady.

There are nine dogs at the farm now.  That's right, count 'em NINE.
I sit back in amazement at the callousness of people where animals are concerned.  I know it makes me a cynic when dealing with people in general.

In the first two years we lost the min pin, Garbo, and the lab  We were down to a manageable two.
One of our neighbors told us about a grocery store, three miles from no where, selling unusual fare.  We decided to check it out.  A couple of miles from home, on a major county road, we saw a Basset hound lying in the road..  My friend, Blenna, told me to stop so we could help it if it was alive or move it off of the road if it was dead.  So, I stopped.

In reality it was an act.  As soon as the suburban stopped and the door opened, that Basset hopped up, ran to the door and jumped in.  Gingerly she climbed over the back seat and lay panting in the cargo area.
Behind her, out of the woods by the side of the road, came two more small dogs.  One was a male rat terrier and the ugliest puppy you have ever seen.  I swear you would have to hang pork chops from the puppies ears to get other dogs to play with it.  They followed suit.

Don't tell me dogs are not smart.  This was a plan.  Now, I had three dogs in the back of the truck and they were hunkered in for a ride. I suggested we put them out.

"If they are still here when we get back, we can take them somewhere." I thought it was a great idea.
"Oh no.  If they are smashed when we come back I wouldn't be able to live with myself."  was her answer.

As I got back into the truck, I looked over the seat.  A pure bred basset, who had only recently had puppies, a standard rat terrier, a real stud, and the world's homeliest puppy.  And then there were five. Zoi, Jack and Odie Bolt were now to be permanent residents of Bowen Creek Farm.

Several months later, in the dead of winter, I went out to the shop to build a fire.  There was movement to my left, by the wood pile.  I went on about my business.  I finished up on my chores and headed to the house when I saw it again. It was a big ball of fur.  Picking it up I realized it was a puppy.  This was a clean, fat, happy puppy.  He couldn't be over six weeks old.  It was supposed to be the coldest night of the year, so far..  Unzipping my coat I put the little guy inside and zipped it back.  He ended up to be a Basenji.  We named him Woody.

Not long after we got Woody, we received a phone call.  Seems our young neighbors were divorcing.  They moved out of the house and she didn't take the dog. "Could you go check on him?  I left food in a container and he has water."

Blenna went.

Blenna went every day for two months.  The lady had left food alright, but she left it in a covered garbage can with a tight lid and the little guy was scared, cold, and starving.  He would have nothing to do with us.   He waited until the car was out of the driveway and then scarfed up the food and hid again.  After two months, it was easy to tell he was going to end up coyote bait. We called the Department of Conservation, borrowed a live trap, added a cheeseburger.  And then there were seven.
Welcome, Gamble.

We had two neighbors who fought over whose dog should be fixed.  Mary had a golden retriever and Dee a Great Pyrenees.   Mary's vet told her her male would be a better pet if she didn't neuter him. Seems to be a typical male stance.  Dee had no intention of spaying her Pyrenees.  The result was a litter of Golden Pyrenees puppies every year. They ended up in the Walmart parking lot. given away to people who didn't know how to handle them.

When I saw Bo walking up the street, I smiled. This was one puppy I would not keep.  I knew exactly where he came from, and he was going back.  Problem was, they both swore, there were no puppies this year.  It did not belong to them.  We put him in the back yard.  He was going to Tulsa to live with my daughter.  Her dog tried to kill him so he is our resident watch dog.  Nothing moves around here Bo doesn't see, hear, or smell.  He is only ninety-six pounds.

Two black labs showed up a month or so ago and I called county animal control.  They came and got them. Enough is enough.  But, I didn't tell you about our latest, Chichi Rita.

I was out feeding late, after dark, and I saw a fox.  "Hey Blenna, do you think fox eat cat food?"
She didn't think so.  It was a couple of days before Halloween.  We went out to take another look but the fox was gone.  The next night the fox was there again.  A repeat of the night before.  The next day, sitting on the front porch was a little red Chihuahua., my fox.  Now this could not be an accident.  The next morning we went out looking for an owner only to find there were several of these dogs dumped a mile or so away.  One of our neighbors picked this one up and dropped it off near our farm knowing it would survive.  So then there were nine.


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