Search Results for: I am enough

The doctor was filling in for our regular Veterinarian.  Fate greeted her enthusiastically as she does most people.

“Fate must be missing her friends,” she said when I told her we had two other dogs.  It took me a moment to understand that the doctor was talking about Bud and Zinnia.  “No,” I said, “Fate doesn’t really like them so much. She prefers people to dogs.”

“Well then,” the Veterinarian replied, “now she has special alone time with Mommy.”

I cringed but didn’t say anything. She referred to me as Fate’s mommy a couple of more times.

I didn’t think quickly enough to let the new veterinarian know that  I don’t think of myself as  Fate’s mommy.   But when I got home I found I was still thinking about it.  It bothered me.

It still does.

I  understand that many people think it perfectly normal to be called their pets Mommy.  I have good friends who feel this way about their pets.

But it’s not how I think about my animals.   I don’t want to be anybody’s Mommy.

Fate’s mother is a border collie.

I think part of what annoyed me was that the  Veterinarian was making an assumption about me and my relationship with Fate.  About how I view her and how she fits into my life.

I feel strongly about not seeing my animals as children. If I wanted to be a mommy, I would have had children.  But I never wanted children and still don’t.

I like my animals because they are animals.  For me, the idea of living harmoniously with animals is kind of amazing.

One of the reasons I like living with animals is that they aren’t children.

I can leave the dogs in the backyard when I go out.  I put them in a crate at night and we all get a good night’s sleep.  When Jon and I go away I don’t miss our animals.  I’m very happy not to have to get up in the morning to take care of them.  Happy to be free of them for a few days.

Years ago when I got my dog Frieda I was looking for protection. When she died and I was thinking about getting another dog I had different needs.  I wanted a dog to come to work with me in my studio and to walk in the woods with.

I think of Fate lovingly as my dog.  I don’t know how she feels about that, but it doesn’t really matter since she doesn’t understand such nuances in language.

What matters is that she seems to enjoy doing the things we do together like going to the sheep, walking in the woods, chasing a ball, and sleeping in my studio when I work.

At 3 pm she lets me know it’s time to feed the animals, otherwise, she doesn’t bother me when I’m working.  She never steps on my art which is often on the floor of my studio.  She never runs off when we walk in the woods and she waits for me I stop to take a picture or video or just want to sit quietly.

She will also find the way home if I get lost.

Fate is quirky, an odd Border Collie who loves sheep but doesn’t herd them.  I relate to her being an outsider and I admire her independent streak even though at times it drives me crazy.

Fate fits into my life in just the way I wanted her to.  And I’m proud that we have that together.

So the next time someone refers to me as Fate’s “mommy” I will ask them not to call me that.  I will tell them that I love Fate and she’s a great companion for me. But I didn’t get her because I wanted a child, I got her because I wanted a dog.

I can smell our blooming Magnolia tree the way the sheep must be able to smell the grass coming up.  As I threw the ball for Fate and Zinnia yesterday evening in the south pasture, the sheep were at the gate, a symphony of demanding baas. When I ignored them, they banged on the gate like prisoners in an old movie.

It will be a while before the grass is tall enough for them to graze.

Summer came to the farm yesterday without the shade of full-grown leaves. The sheep took to the pole barn for most of the day, and the hens found shade in the old lilacs and in the hole in the apple tree.  Minnie moved with the sun sleeping in the shade of the porch posts.

Only the donkeys seemed not to mind the heat.   They rolled on the hard dusty ground where the grass doesn’t grow and lounged in the sun.

The donkeys and some of the older sheep were reluctant to come out of the pole barn this morning. The snow hadn’t started yet, it wasn’t raining and the temperature was in the 50’s but the wind was blowing all night long.

That was enough to make them cautious.

I fed the donkeys in the barn (Lulu is still keeping her distance from me since I tried to soak her hoof yesterday) and did my best to let Lulu know I wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

All day the weather changed from one moment to the next.  There was every mixture of rain, sleet, sun, and wind until late this afternoon when the snow started.

It’s coming down hard and quick now.  Cold wet snow that stranded the hens under the coop.

Chickens are like that.  Once it starts to get dark, if they don’t go into the coop, they go into a dozing state they don’t wake from till the morning.

It might have been that the snow came down so quickly it covered the roost they jump up onto to get into the coop.  Or maybe it was the wind, blowing the snow around them that kept them out.

Whatever it was, I knew they’d be easy to catch and put in the coop one at a time. And it was. White Hen gave me a bit of a chase, but I didn’t let her get far.  It was too cold to play games.

As I locked up the coop, I could hear two sheep braying.  Constance was sniffing around the feeders not bothered by the snow and wind one bit. And Robin was at the gate asking for a treat.

The gate was already frozen, so I went into the barnyard through the barn.  By then all the sheep came into the pole barn, the younger ones caked in frosty white snow.

They don’t feel a thing I thought.  All that wool, the snow is probably refreshing after the warm temperatures all day.

In all the years I’ve known Fanny and Lulu, I’ve never seen Lulu in such a deep sleep before.  I know it happens, I’ve just never seen it.

Fanny who is laying right next to her was twitching and flicking flies with her tail, keeping an eye out while Lulu slept soundly.

When I first moved upstate from the suburbs of Long Island, I believed that horses (I never even thought about donkeys back then) only slept standing up and that if they laid down that meant they were dead.

I can remember seeing horses laying down in fields as I drove through the countryside, and at some point realizing that the horses I saw laying down couldn’t all be dead.  Soon after that, I learned that horses and donkeys can rest standing up, but have to lay down to get into a deep enough sleep to dream.

And like humans, equines need to dream in order to stay mentally healthy.

Makes me wonder what Lulu was dreaming about this afternoon as she snoozed in the barnyard.