Shari’s Gone Country

This is something that had been planned for some time. Yesterday, Bev underwent dental extraction… all her remaining teeth… and is she miserable!

When she underwent chemotherapy for cancer, it left her with considerable gum loss, and her current partials no longer fit properly. Not only that, her remaining teeth were getting looser by the day.

Solution… as long as she is paying for dental insurance… get full plates upper and lower.

So, yesterday was the day.

Cindy drove her over the mountains to Cedar City and within a little over an hour, she’d undergone 13 or so extractions and was fitted with her new dentures.

I’ve got to say, that even though her lower jaw is noticeably swollen, her new teeth really look good. She’s been able to talk without sounding quite like she has a mouth full of mush.

Today she actually went to work, not driving the bus, but working in place of the manager.

Uh-oh… about 20 minutes ago, we got a call to come and get her… She’s not going to make it through the day. Could be the pain meds doing flip-flops in her stomach.

I know… Who’s Algernon, and why should you care.

Algernon is our big ram. He’s been visiting a neighboring farm for the last month, hanging out with a couple dozen ewes. Well actually, he’s been working.

His job? Breed every last one of them at least once… more if necessary or if he feels like it.

We weren’t watching the roundup when Clyde and Bill put a rope on him and got him into the truck to go visiting… but the coming home was a lot more peaceful. At least Amber said she didn’t see any fresh wounds on Clyde.

Coming home… With Bill slowly navigating the gravel road and finally our dirt driveway, and Clyde and Amber riding in the back of the compact pickup truck along with Algernon, it was a picture of one happy ram returning victoriously.

Before unloading him, we put our brand-spanking new breeding harness on him. One of our mentors (the gal we got him from) always uses one of these devices so she can tell her ram has at least attempted to breed.

Algernon has been through this process, so getting it on is no problem. He’s such a gentle giant.

Time to let him get off the truck and into the pen with “his girls”.

Clyde played “cowboy” holding onto his lead rope. Cindy and I were the ones who would help him turn right into the pen.

With Algernon in a hurry… Clyde was doing his best to keep up long enough to get him securely into the pen before giving Al total freedom.

In a matter of seconds, Al was reunited with his girls. Let the party begin!

“Let’s see… this one smells pretty good. Oh, she tastes good, too. Come to daddy, sweetie.”

“Wham, bam… hey… come back here! I’m not done yet!”

And so it goes. Algernon is one busy boy. He’s busily checking each girl. He grunts and growls and licks ears. The girls are getting interested. They show him “their stuff” stopping to pee so he can become aroused.

Thirty minutes later, we’re sure he’s bred two of the girls and we head for dinner.

As of this morning. Score two for Al. And, he’s got a “maybe”. This evening will be another “go around”.

Come April, we should have some little very cute little black lambs running around.

It’s now Friday morning and I’m about to do something I’m not too sure about. What’s worse… I’m not the only one.

You see, Cindy is my chauffeur and she absolutely, positively hates driving in any kind of city traffic. Bev has to work, and there’s no way we’ll let her take time off and not get paid.

So, bright and early… as in blinding sun in our eyes, we begin the long drive from our little desert hideaway to St George, actually clear to the other end of it. Make that a distance of some 75 miles.

Until we get to the St George cut-off, the sun’s not too bad. Now, combine the rising sun (in the southeast sky) with a two-lane highway going through a mountain pass, and you’ve got a recipe for adventure. You can encounter deer, slow moving trucks, school buses stopped along side the road… even falling rocks.

Thankfully, all we encountered was a slow driver “Blondi in a Caddie” who was being overly cautious as she braved the pass.

Our directions were simple enough, just stay on the same road until after we cross over I-15 and pass the cow pasture. When we see llamas on the left, the driveway to the dental office is on the right.

After a quick stop at Starbucks… my first in nearly 10 months, we proceed to the dental office.

Now, this isn’t your normal well-stocked very modern office, where you know your bill will be three figures just for being there, let alone having anything done. No, this is a free clinic ($5.00 donation greatly appreciated). Since I don’t have any income, I qualify (not sure that’s a claim to fame, either).

It’s 10am and time to hop into the chair. No arm rests, the head rest doesn’t adjust… oh well, just open wide for a quick x-ray. Yes, the dental tech did have a lead-filled protective vest for my other vitals.

Problem confirmed, here comes the dentist. He’s a big ol’ boy… real cowboy looking. And, he starts jabbering from the time he enters the room.

After a bit of probing (kind of lancing the abscess) he says to the tech… No sense probing any more and creating more pain. Give me two full vials of Novacaine. He then explains to her (she’s really new) that when you’re working on the mandibula (guess that’s the lower jaw) you’re better off just to numb it to the max than do one now and one again later… Thanks Doc… I think.

She’s not getting the syringe loaded correctly and he’s afraid she’ll bend the needle so he reaches across my face and loads the damn thing right over me… Good thing I’m not squeamish.

Within 5 minutes, the whole right side of my face is totally numb, including my ear, and half-way down my neck. Doc returns again… this time he’s at least added a surgical mask. He’s still jabbering, though. I don’t even try to answer. After all, my mouth is wide open, there’s the little vacuum thingy, and his fingers all in my mouth.

One probe, a request for something called a “cow horn” that has been stored in a sterile plastic baggy, a quick twist, and suddenly, the tech is stuffing a big piece of gauze in my mouth and telling me to bite down.

“All done”, she says.

Total time in the chair, less than 20 minutes… no fuss, no muss, not even any pain.

So, what was Doc jabbering about? He wants to hunt some “legal” prairie dogs. Most are protected in Utah.

Even though I couldn’t open my mouth, Cindy joins in the chat and we kill another 15 minutes talking about where he’s from… Wyoming, has two other brothers who are also dentists. He even had a dental office in one of the towns I spent my toddler years in… Wheatland.

Two days later, most of the swelling (abscess) has gone away. The antibiotic is killing whatever infection is there. My system is surviving nicely, thanks to an understanding “family”.

Mom even made meatloaf yesterday, with mashed potatoes, gravy, and well-cooked cauliflower. She’s made jello for me, as well as shared some of her tea.

Unless plans have changed… I think I have to “grow up” to real food tonight. I heard hamburgers are on the menu, and I don’t want to get left out.

Now, normally I could care less about the baseball playoffs, unless the Seattle Mariners are playing. However, since I now share space with three Ohio natives… I’m slowly becoming a Cleveland Indians fan, as well as a Browns fan (only if Dallas or Seattle isn’t playing), an Ohio State fan (again, only if Oregon or Oregon State aren’t playing), and who knows what will happen during the basketball season. I’m no longer a Jailblazer, I mean Trailblazer fan.

At any rate, the past couple of weeks, our evenings have been spent watching the baseball playoffs. I mean, to the point that we’ve missed “Dancing with the Stars”, “Deal or No Deal”, “Extreme Makeover - Home Edition” and even, “The Bachelor”. Luckily, I’ve been able to catch re-broadcasts of “The Next Iron Chef”.

We did tune one TV to “Survivor” on Thursday night.

At any rate, now things can get more back to normal around here. It’s bad enough that the sun sets right in the middle of prime TV time, and I have to run out and put the chickie’s to bed. Soon though, the sun will set much earlier… even as early as the evening feeding time.

I remember last year, when I first arrived, we’d trudge through the snow at about 4pm, fighting a 20 mph hour wind and well below zero wind chill. Oh my, and that’s all right around the corner again.

Finally, we got the trench completely backfilled, with the additional frost-free hydrant at the sheep pen. No more dragging hoses around (I’m talking about the really long ones), and then having to manually drain them in the sub-freezing weather.

The horses are a little undone. We’ve moved most of their water containers to a central location, adjacent to the frost-free at their corral. Dakota will continue to have her water barrel, as she still gets confined from time to time. You see, Dusty still thinks he’s “alpha”… Neche, the mare has yet to show him who’s boss.

We got two cords of aspen a couple weeks ago, and Cindy has been taking out any frustrations on the pile. She splits, and sometimes, I go out and stack. We’re stacking between the trees this year instead of hauling it around to the backyard. That will keep our dogs from using the wood pile as a personal toy box, hauling chunks everywhere.

Algernon, our ram has gone visiting.

Neighbor Clyde (the guy who helped us with leveling the stable area) has sheep, and his ram is a little young. Also, some of his ewes are cousins to Algernon, having been bred from his father.

At any rate, Bill ( a neighbor with a pickup) and Clyde came over Thursday night and got him. It was really funny, ’cause I knew they would be over, but thought they’d at least come to the door and let us get pictures of the great caper.

I went out after dinner, about an hour before sundown and noticed Algernon wasn’t in his pen. Well, that required a trip over to Clyde’s, where we found him in the height of glory. He was “grinnin’ and pickin’ “, having bred about half the ewe’s within the last hour.

I mentioned to Clyde that I thought he’d at least come to the door. His response…

“We thought we’d just go into the pen, put a rope on him, and put him in the truck, then come get you. Things didn’t turn out quite that way. Once I got a hold of him, he was more than a handful. It was all Bill and I could do to get him into the truck… so we just kept going.

After we got here, the dogs wanted to help, and he wasn’t ready for that… what a rodeo it was, just getting him from the truck into the pen”.

Later, I heard from one of his fellow church members that his arm is pretty skinned up… the result of Al dragging him around the pen. Even Bill asked Bev how much Algernon weighed. Bev’s answer: over 300 pounds.

Saturday brought more lousy weather, so once again, we laid low, doing only what we had to do. That meant getting chores done, and cleaning the horse pen. I needed the manure for the expanded compost pile.

Sunday… time to work the horses.

I got Dakota into the round pen and had a very good session. She remembered “back” with the rope wiggle, and even did a pretty good job of yielding her hindquarters, remembering to step over with her lead foot.

I lunged her for a while, without a lead line, asking her to change directions and turn inward to me. I can sure tell she’s a “right-brained” horse. Asking her to turn left and getting the proper result is challenging, so we’ll be doing extra repetitions on that side.

Neche was next. She was saddled, and Bev took her to the round pen. After some short lunging, Bev thought it would be time to ride her. After all, she’s well-broken. Things were going well enough that Cindy took Mom with her to Clyde’s place.

The idea was that Clyde was going to help Cindy with more of Dusty’s breaking. Well, Clyde wasn’t home, but his new calves had arrived. That kept Cindy and Mom there a little longer than expected.

Just before they left, Cindy had suggested that Bev ride Neche out of the round pen and onto our acreage. So far, so good.

Now, I’m not real sure if Bev has ridden much in the last 20 years, or how much she had ridden while growing up. I do know that no matter what she wanted to do (neck reigning), Neche wasn’t real responsive. Maybe is was the hackamore bridle that Bev wasn’t used to using.

At any rate… Neche wanted to go back to the round pen… so that’s where they went. Bev was tiring of walking in circles, and besides, her butt was starting to hurt. Maybe she should get off…

I wasn’t thinking, or I’d have offered to hold the reigns while she dismounted. Like me, Bev’s got short legs, and neither of us have enough “stretch” to get either from the ground to the stirrup, or visa versa.

Next thought… maybe Bev could ease Neche over to the rail, and just dismount onto the rail… yeah right.

At any rate, Bev had somehow taken her foot out of the right stirrup, and couldn’t get it back into the stirrup. Wearing tennis shoes wasn’t helping. Besides that, the stirrups on her saddle are real narrow.

All this time, they’re still walking around the edge of the round pen. That is, until Bev’s foot banged the round pen rail…

Neche is a bit spooky about the darndest things… The banging rail was all she needed. Let’s go to the left. Let’s go straight really fast for a couple of steps… gotta get away from that noise. Wait… what’s that on my back? Oh, it’s sliding off… going, gone.

And Bev was in a pile face-first, in the soft round pen sand. At least there was no manure.

I quickly checked to make sure she was conscious and then went to get Neche. I didn’t think she’d want Neche to walk on her at that point.

Fortunately, Bev’s only bruised… deeply, but no broken bones, and she’ll live to ride another day.

As for Neche… Well, when Cindy returned, she hopped on her and rode for quite a while. I’d love to have ridden, too, but Neche wanted no part of me, or the hay bale I was standing on to mount her. Talk about hurt feelings… it’s as if she looked at me and said, “No way, heavyweight! Bev was enough for one day.”