Ma Under The Knife

Wow, this evening was one of the most intense Maria and I have had together. Dr. Jen Marsh of the Granville Large Animal Service came and we worked on Ma for several hours. It was bloody, exhausting and difficult work. Red's bites pulled some of Ma's skin away from the body and all three wounds – they were not deep, fortunately – had developed pus-filled pockets, not unlike human blood blisters. Jen said she got there just in time, and it was fortunate that Ma was shorn yesterday so that we could find the wounds shave them, open them and scrap the pus and infected tissue out bit by bit.  These wounds can get uglyu in a hurry. She said it was good we called her when we did.

We sedated Ma, but she is strong and big and she fought us every step of the way. She bucked and banged into us, and I had to hold her head straight up in the air to keep her still.  Maria held her head some of the time, and then I took it over. It was like wrestling a bear and I will not be walking upright for a few days. I wanted to get more photos, but couldn't let go.

It was painful for Ma, difficult for Jen. She had to open each wound, get inside the sacs, clean them out with scrapers, stuff each wound with anti-biotic soaked gauze. Ma got four kinds of shots and we will be giving her pain-killers and penicillin twice a day for at least a week. We also have to pull the gauze out of her wounds tomorrow. Red pulled the outer skin out, and the wounds began to heal before they have drained, were starting to get infected, so we also have to squirt saline solution into the wounds to keep them open and draining.  The good news was that Ma did not have a fever, so the infection probably had not gone deep. The bite wounds were not deep either, another break.

I went back over my video and I saw what happened clearly – Red was close to the sheep, he had been working a lot that day and was excited. I should have slowed him back, he is very strong around the sheep. Ma charged at him, then veered suddenly off and he ran after her and tried to grab her wool but couldn't get a purchase as she had just been shorn, so he grabbed at her side and stomach.

Jen did a great job and Maria and I were both just dazed and sore and covered in feces and dirt. Jen said she wasn't sure if Ma would survive-she said it will take a long time to heal. I thought she looked much better tonight, she was moving around and eating. We have some  hard work with her, but I feel optimistic about it. Ma was living in a tiny space and hadn't been shorn in years, she has had a rough time, she is happy here and we are fond of her. I brought Red out to the barn and he sat next to the sheep while Jen worked on Ma and she said he was extraordinarily calm and businesslike.I do not fault him a bit for what happened, but I have to say it upset me, perhaps more than I might have expected. I'm not sure why. As I wrote this morning, life happens, every single day. It's how we deal with it that matters. And I have learned some things from this. I am wrecked, going to sleep. Yet one more chapter in the real world of real animals. Sounds like a book to me.

Florence's Iris

Florence's Irises came up this week, I thought they looked old and worn out, but Maria insisted on keeping them, and I'm glad she did. Our flowers and Florence's are beginning to ring the farmhouse with some color. It is my job as an artist to remind people of the light and color in the world, they are so often told the world is a dangerous and dark place.

Tai Chi

I had my first Tai Chi lesson with my instructor, Scott Carrino. I enjoyed it. I learned two beginning movements and we are taking it one step at a time – Scott has figured out already how I absorb information. I really liked the lesson, I've done Tai Chi lessons once or twice before, but I don't think I was ready. I am now. Scott showed me how to move comfortably, we talked about connecting the body, the heart and the ground, to be aware of the constant movement around me. I'm going to start this afternoon or tomorrow, I have a spot I love out in the pasture, I imagine I will be doing Tai Chi with donkeys, they are curious and meditative and spiritual. I was almost instantly at ease with Scott, he is a gentleman and a passionate believer in Tai Chi. I think it will be good for me, perhaps the next chapter in my work to get easy with life, my mind and body and the world around me. It was interesting to go to my lesson fresh from a full-blooded Internet brawl about one of my photographs. Good training I suspect.

Flo

Flo has become a shameless flirt. The cat that hid under the porch through much of the winter now struts around the farm like the Queen Mum and she keeps a close eye on me, often jumping into my lap if I'm sitting down. She loves to be held and scratched. She's got my number.

Troubling Thing

Ma, the ewe that Red bit and injured yesterday, looks to be in trouble. She seemed fine this morning, but is off in a corner and lying down. She is not herself. This is troubling to me. I understand completely that these things happen, Red was just doing his job, but I have never had a sheep suffer a serious injury from a dog before, and I know from experience that sick sheep do not often recover. Made an emergency call to the vet, which I probably should have done yesterday but sheep heal quickly from scratches, even  bites and this one just did not appear to be serious. Seen quite a few like it.  I appreciate the good people worried that I will be angry at Red or blame him, but you don't have to worry about that.

I never blame animals for  being animals, I understand that he was just trying to grip some wool after she challenged him. I write often about the real world of real animals, but this one is disturbing to me, I am fond of Ma, she is a big, dumb, genial sheep. We locked her in the pole barn and closed the gates but of course Zelda somehow got the gate open and was trying to get Ma out. Ma wasn't moving. Vet is on the way. Life happens, just about every day.

The Dark Side Of Animal Love

I took this photo at the hardware store a few weeks ago, and I love it. Happy, healthy, much loved dogs waiting for their humans at the animal store. Many people loved it, many people shared it, as I did. It speaks to me of affection and loyalty, two of the things most of us love about dogs. This morning, I got several messages from the animal world that shows how we can take love and twist it into darkness, warning, anger and fear – benchmarks of our phobic and increasingly self-righteous world.

Anita wrote that she wanted to share her concerns over my "dangerous" message in the photo, especially given the nationwide reach of my blog. She offered me a lecture on how leaving dogs and cats in cars can be dangerous on warm days, and lethal to them. The two large dogs were getting air, she observed, but what about the little guy? This photo endorsed a dangerous and even illegal practice, she said. She offered me a link to a website that offers information on the dangers of pets in cars, and she hoped I would link to it to to undo the damage the message in my photo sent. I would be quite surprised if there are people reading my blog who don't know cars can get hot in the summer, but if there are any of you, I've attached the link.

There are many strains and streaks in the animal world I love, some I do not. One I truly do not is the part of the culture that thinks loving animals gives them the right to write messages like that, and in that suffocating tone, and to believe it makes them somehow morally superior. Doesn't work with me.

I did write back to her, and I said that my photo had no message, other than to evoke the love and loyalty dogs have for people. I see these dogs quite often in the hardware store lot, they are lucky and happy and healthy dogs. Not to mention the fact it was near freezing that day and the dogs were warmer than I was. Red was in the car right next to them, as he often is.

I told Anita I don't need lectures or websites to tell me when it's too hot for my dogs to be in cars, although I am sure there are some people who do. I told her I don't tell other people how to live with their dogs, perhaps one reason the blog does have a nationwide following. I have always had trouble with self-righteousness, the need people have to tell other people how to live, it is as epidemic in the animal world as in the political world (there is only one way to get a dog). It is obnoxious to me, as is the blizzard of warnings, alarms, cautions and doomsday warnings about life, health, politics and surely, animals. I suggested to Anita that if she loves warnings and lectures, this may not be the blog for her. There are so many others that will keep her engaged, alarmed and pleased with herself.

I love the message of the dogs at the hardware store. It speaks only of love, and the sad thing is to pollute that message the faux morality of the times. God, please help me to not tell other people what to do. It is the black plague of the mind. I'm very happy to run this photo again, and perhaps a few more times in the future. You are all, of course, free to take any message you want from this photo. I might put it up on Facebook and ask you to post your own sense of the message. I'm on the way.

Vaginal Flowers

I was happy to see Florence's irises unfold in one of our gardens yesterday and I was out there early to catch them in the morning sun. Irises got me thinking and feeling.  I was looking at George O'Keefe's paintings recently – she loved to paint the Iris – and I remember reading her comments about them. She thought they were the most sensuous of all flowers, she said she was shocked by their sensuality, their mouths opening like the libia, O'Keefe wrote that they were the vaginal flower. I read a few months ago about a Midwestern legislator who was banned from the state assembly for a few days for mentioning "vagina" in a debate about health care. The men in the chamber were shocked and horrified. If you want to see a grown man fold and run, just come up to him and whisper "vagina" in his ear, and he will shriek like a frightened piglet and head for the door.

Vaginas are  not something much written about in our tense and conflicted culture and this, I think, is because our society is still most controlled by men, for whom the very thought of the vagina would be frightening and disturbing.  The vagina is all about intimacy and most men dread intimacy. I wanted to speak up in defense of the vagina, and add my voice to those discriminating people who appreciate its sensuality and special beauty. I love vaginas and am sorry it took me so long to write about them. For some years, they were missing in my life, and I am eternally grateful that is no longer the case. I hope to never be far from a vagina again in my time on this earth, they are the sweet part of life's garden, the symbol of the loving body.

Men would do much better in their own lives and on behalf of the world if they didn't ban vaginas from public discourse, but embraced their wonder and spirituality.  Rather than ban vaginas from public life, they ought to be on billboards reminding us what life is really about. When you think about it, the vagina is the purest and most delicate manifestation life and love, it is a portal to sensitivity and to the art of the human consciousness.

I wonder if Florence thought of them that way – she planted them all around her house. I bet she did, even if she didn't mention it. I doubt Maria will pick the Irises, they are too fragile, they just collapse and wilt. But I hope she does. I can't imagine anything sweeter or more beautiful or inspiring than seeing an Iris – the vaginal flower – right next to the computer where I work.

So once again, I'm grateful to Florence for inspiring, however indirectly, my own vagina monologue.

Sheep Bite

Being dishonest was once a habit, and now being authentic is becoming a habit, and I like it better. Another chapter from the story of the real world of real animals yesterday. After shearing, I sent Red out to move the shorn sheep and Ma, the sheep on the right above, veered off and away from him, and he broke out of his outrun to go after her. Border collies will often grab wool to control a sheep – Red does it rarely – and this time there was no wool so he grabbed her shoulder and the underside of her belly. When we looked, we saw she was bleeding and the skin on the belly wound was hanging down in a flap. We put antibiotics on the wound, wrapped it in gauze and locked her up for the night in the barn stall with another ewe for company.

Zelda spent the night trying to break open the gate and get her out. My first impulse was interesting – I wasn't going to write about it, I've been so glowing and admiring of Red. But this is another chapter in the real world of real animals, and the true nature of real sheepherding on a farm, which is rarely as pretty and orderly as the herding trials one sees at fairs or on television. I don't like herding trials and I suspect the sheep don't either.

In the real world of farm and herding dogs, sheep get gripped, run down and bitten sometimes. Maria and I had a bit of the same reaction we had when Simon went after Rocky – we were disappointed in Red, he is so often a nearly perfect dog that I just don't expect him to mess up, and he didn't really mess up any more than Simon did. A ewe took off, he went after her and grabbed her in the usual way, but there was not the usual wool. And it was a hot day and he had worked all day and was tired – sometimes border collies grip when they are worn out and aren't moving as fast as usual. End of story. This morning, the wound looks dry and there is no blood showing, so we will confine her for another day or two. I called the vet yesterday, but called her off this morning. I worked Red a bit and he was his poised and professional self.

I'm glad I didn't think of withholding this story for more than a second.  Our shearer was much impressed by Red, he said he was one of the calmest and most professional dogs he had seen. Red did nothing wrong and this is the real world of animals. I want honestly to be as much of a reflex as being dishonest or manipulative.

Dusk, Spring

Late afternoon light is photographer's light. A good time to crawl around the garden.

Maria's Cactus

I gave Maria a cactus garden recently and I didn't pay much attention to it until I saw the late afternoon sunlight reach in and kiss it and light it up.

Consciousness And The Hero Journey

I had dinner with a new friend the other night and she said she was considering leaving a job she loved and was profoundly meaningful to her to take a job in another city that paid more money and had a bigger title. It also had lots of trouble and conflict.  She loves just about everything in her life, including all of the people she works with and we talked about a culture that puts money and status so far above happiness. I hope she stays where she is. Her story brought me back to my 30′s. I was a reporter and editor in several cities, and I loved journalism, loved every day of it. I was offered a series of jobs that led to more money, bigger titles and eventually a  career in network television, where I worked as executive producer of the CBS Morning News. It wasn't enough to do what Ioved, I thought, I wanted to amount to more than that.

So I quit what  I loved and rushed into a snarling and pressure-filled bureaucracy that paid well – I was driven to work in a big fancy black car – and had a great title, a secretary and a mystical expensive account. I was never so miserable.

Within a few months, I was seeing an analyst – I would lock myself in the office and burst into tears, trembling from one panic attack after another. She prescribed Valium for me, to help my anxiety and to help me sleep. I took Valium for 30 years. No one ever told me that few people who take it for a long time can give it up. Nor did anyone tell me until much later – this shocked me to the core – that I had become a prescription drug addict, taking a drug like that for so long. Like many other people, I thought that addicts only took illegal drugs.  Doctor after doctor continued the Valium prescription until I stopped taking it during my struggles at Bedlam Farm. Had I known how difficult it would be to get off valium I would probably have stayed on it. As it was, I was determined to deal with my problems head on, and without medication. I will not forget the first night I went to sleep without it – I was suddenly into one of those noir films where the addict is locked in a cell going to pieces. Long nights of sweats, nausea, nightmares, struggles breathing, the shakes.  I met my real self that night, it was like being tossed into the middle of a loud and spinning carousel, whizzing by me faster than I could absorb or understand. I did not sleep much for the next two or three years and coming to see my mind really worked – this is possible without medication – was an amazing  if often horrifying experience. I needed for it to happen before  I could begin to get well. This, it turned out, was my hero journey, facing the truth about myself and beginning the process of healing, a process that does not seem to ever stop.

Maria was the only human being to see me at close range during that period, cut off finally from my hiding place, the the successful author giving readers, interviews and touring around the country. Valium was a good place to hide.  Just living my life, folks.

Addicts and alcoholics can always put it on when they need to, it is how they survive.They live in drama and crisis and draw everyone around them into it.  Joseph Campbell said you can wear the mask a long time, but when it comes off,  you better be prepared. I was not prepared.  I took valium instead. I will never quite see myself as an addict, it still seems ridiculous and strange to me, even though I was a legal and culturally-sanctioned one. Many of the people I meet are addicts, hooked on drugs for the rest of their life, their addictions a profit center for lots of corporations.

I learned back then that money does not buy happiness and money and a big title doesn't bring security. And valium does not lead to authenticity.  I think money and titles often just give people more things to be insecure about. Every night, when I go to sleep I go into the bathroom and look up for my container of pills. I threw the last one out a year or so ago – I kept it just in case. I think an addict never quite gives up wanting a fix, it's perhaps in the psyche and in the blood. I can't blame valium for it. A doctor friend told me recently that no patient of hers has ever been able to give up valium after taking it a long time, they try, but they just can't do it. But they can, I told her, they really can. When I gave up valium, I see now that I was taking responsibility for myself. Now, my fear is not living without valium, it's taking it ever again.

Good Morning To Simon

Simon expects a morning hug from Maria and from me. If he doesn't get it, he will come and wait for it.

Sharing The Sheep

The sheep shearing went well. Jim McCrae said our sheep were gentle and co-operative, a legacy of much training, work with Red, care from Maria. Jim was done in less than an hour and off to Cold Antler and other farms in the area. He was gracious to permit me to shoot some video. Come and see Zelda shorn, Red contain the sheep, Maria collect wool to sell as yarn.

Shorn

It's one of the enduring rites of Spring, and it feels good to see the sheep shorn as summer approaches. Maria will take the wool to Vermont for processing and sell some wool and roving. Zelda's wool is much in demand, I think. She has become a rock star among sheep.

Zelda Shorn

Zelda is cool and lean and Maria will have more yarn to sell.

Shearing Zelda

Shearer Jim McRae came from Rutland, Vt. to shear Zelda and the other ewes. Zelda didn't put up much of a struggle, Jim remember her from last year and said she was quite calm. He said all of our sheep were especially calm and nice to work with, which is nice to hear. Jim is a photographer and border collie trainer as well as a shearer and he is great fun to talk to. I've got a nice video to put together and I'll post it later tonight, here and on Facebook.

Big Farm Day

It's a big farm day in Bedlam, one of those days that blows the idea of writing right out of the window. Our thermostat blew out, so we are getting it replaced and having the furnace cleaned. The shearer, Jim McRae is coming noonish to shear the sheep. Todd Mason is coming by (weather permitting) to fence in the rear pasture in the woods. I'm finishing a video about Frieda to put up on You Tube when "Second Chance" dog comes out. Zelda is on the alert, keep an eye on Red and I have to figure out how to get her into the pole barn. Red will figure out a way.

What Donkeys?

Red may be (along with Lenore) the most grounded dog I have ever had the privilege to live with. He just doesn't rattle and nothing will deter him from focusing on his work. There are some things only the very best breeding can offer. Donkeys are guard animals, I got them initially to guard the sheep and they are always uncomfortable – sometimes very hostile – to dogs coming near the sheep. Donkey see dogs as coyotes, as threats. Donkeys are also very smart and intuitive and they figure out after awhile that a dog is part of their community, but they always pay attention. Simon went after Red a few times, Red just danced around him.

Now Simon and Lulu will come up to Red and sniff him carefully – this is one of the ways equines gather information and communicate.  You may notice in the photo that Red never looks the donkeys directly in the eye – eye contact signals aggression both in dogs and donkeys and other animals. Red stays focused on the sheep, never on the donkeys.  Red sits still and allows the donkeys to smell him carefully. This says to the donkeys, I am here, you can check me out, I am not a threat to you. Of all the dogs I have had, Red is by far the most grounded, focused and calm working animal. He is a professional, even taking risks to stay at work. Even Rose, a wonderful dog, moved away when donkeys came near. In this way, Red permits the donkeys to get comfortable with him and also allows him to herd the sheep calmly. He keeps the peace.

I am quite blessed to have been given this amazing animal by Dr. Karen Thompson, who read "Izzy & Lenore" and decided God wanted me to have this dog. She would not accept any compensation for him. At the time, I thought she was crazy. Now, I see she was just correct. So these wonderful border collie, born and bred on a farm in County Tyrone, Ireland, came to Virginia and then ended up at Bedlam Farm. Life is strange, life is wonderful. I have changed Red's life and he has changed mine. Can't imagine what' s next. In the short run, it's shearing. Shearer coming to trim the sheep this afternoon.

Mr. Cool

Red is the Dean Martin of working dogs, Mr. Cool. The chickens come across him every now and then in the relentless pecking and they sometimes consider him just part of the grass, and peck up and down his back for bugs or other kinds of food. Rose would have eaten them or taken off, even Lenore runs from them, but if Red is in a stay, he stays.

Waiting At The Hardware Store

Sheep shearer is coming to the farm tomorrow to trim Zelda, Ma and the other three ewes. Maria is going to sell the wool as yarn and roving as before. I think Zelda deserves to be a sweater  but the last time she became a shawl. Zelda likes the shearer, he is a Buddhist and he chants to her. I hope she's in a good mood or he'll be lying on his butt in the Pole Barn as I have more than once.  I took this shot at the hardware store of three dogs waiting for their human.

Zelda This Morning

Every morning, Zelda appears by the hay feeder to wait and watch. I love the part of animals that is mysterious, they are an alien species with an alien language. We do not have a language with which to speak to them.

Scarves from hankies

Some very loving and wonderful people are sending Maria vintage handkerchiefs from all over the country and they are amazing to see. This one above came in this week and will be a part of one of the scarves Maria is making from the handkerchiefs. The handkerchiefs are art in the own right and they speak volumes about the artistry of the women who conceived and design them.Maria wrote about them today on her blog. She will offering the scarves for sale there.

In The Rain

Outback Jack

Jack Metzger is a friend and an artist. He is well known and loved locally as "Outback Jack," he has spent years driving around the country and collecting beautiful and compelling things from businesses and farms, from old signs to this pulpit like desk that came from a hardware store in Troy. Every word I write is written on an old farm or tavern table I bought from Jack, who is making many of the old and discarded things he find into sculptures that are shown in art galleries and sold from his business, "Jack's Outback" on Main Street in Cambridge, N.Y. He is gifted and seems to know every house, person and farm in the county. Jack had a warehouse sale this morning and half the town turned up and when I pointed the camera at him, he knew just what to do.