Barbara Edwards, the quilt maker from Seeley Lake, Montana, asked our internal medicine specialist in Missoula, Dr. Dave Bostwick, to select the winning raffle ticket for us.  Barbara's husband Scott took the photo of Barbara with Dave at his clinic in Missoula.  The winner was Norma D. in Switzerland!  Norma has been a long-time supporter of the ranch and visited us a few years ago when she was living in the U.S.  She's participated in the raffle for several years running, and we were delighted that she won Barbara's beautiful quilt this time.

In case anyone might wonder about the impartiality of the drawing, it appears to me that since neither Barbara or Dave was looking at either the basket or the camera, it was truly a "blind" drawing.  Although I wonder what the good doctor was holding in his hand behind his back.  (Scalpel?)  Hmm.

The raffle brought in $1,665 for the animals, so a big 'thank you' to everyone who purchased tickets.  Thanks also to Dr. Dave for doing the honors on our behalf, since we couldn't be there to do it ourselves.  And a really, really big 'thank you' to Barbara for doing another amazing quilt raffle for the ranch!  

This past Saturday the second and last moving van arrived, and then yesterday the last flatbed trailer load arrived. In the photo above, that's Mike R. from New York, whose final load for us included our second tractor, a dog house, tractor implements, and two pallets of stall mats. 

Here's a photo I took on Saturday of Alayne and Dave H., the driver who delivered both moving vans for us and then kindly and generously helped us unload them:

There was only 20,000 pounds (9,071 kg) of stuff in this load, down from 30,000 pounds (13,607 kg) in the first moving van!

Last night Alayne and I totaled up everything and counted 16 trips -- the two moving vans, the seven flatbed trailer loads Mike made, two semi-truck flatbed trailer loads, the dog and cat caravan, two large animal trailer loads, and then the trips that the two of us made, each hauling a trailer with animals on board.  Whoops, that doesn't count the trip I made out here in mid-April, also with truck and horse trailer, so that's 17 trips.

In a way it was fitting that Mike brought the final load, because he had picked up the very first load in early April -- a full trailer of corral panels.  Back then I wasn't sure how we were going to get it all done, but somehow we did.  Moving all the animals was more complicated than most people might realize, because each animal needed pre-departure health exams and an individual interstate health certificate from our vets before they could travel.  The horses needed all that and more -- Coggins tests, brand inspections and import permits, too. 

I think we earned advanced degrees in logistics for this adventure. 

Of course, we are a long way from being settled.  We still have to figure out where to put the 50,000 pounds of stuff we've now unloaded over the past month!  But at least everything is here, and that's a big relief!

Here is the very last thing off the last load -- a dog house:

At least we know where we're going to put that ... in the nearest dog yard!

I know this is a pretty boring photo of one of our trucks at a gas pump.  But there's a little more to it.

Back in early April, when we first announced our impending move to New Hampshire, I mentioned that a major reason for relocating was to be closer to services so we could reduce our operating costs for increasingly expensive things like gas.  In Montana, we were 70 miles from anywhere, so it was a 140-mile (225 km) round trip to take an animal to the vet clinic or to get supplies and groceries.  Even though we tried to be very efficient and disciplined about going to Missoula or Helena only once a week -- we'd pack as many as 8 to 10 stops into a single day in town -- it was still a pricey fill-up-the-gas-tank trip.  Plus, we'd be on the road most of the day.  Of course, if an animal needed to see a vet outside that once-a-week schedule, off we'd go to the clinic.

So once I got to New Hampshire, I kept an eye on the gas tank in the truck I drove out from Montana.  I had filled it up the day I arrived in Lancaster, eight weeks ago last Friday.  I was amazed as I made trip after trip into town that the gas gauge hardly budged.  I'd call Alayne back in Ovando and say, "Hey, I'm still at three-quarters of a tank!"  And this was making many more trips into town than I usually would -- we still intend to consolidate multiple errands into single trips, as we did in Montana -- but in the first several weeks of trying to get settled, it was harder to be quite as organized and efficient.

Well, two months later to the day, on Friday, it was finally time to fill 'er up -- and that's what you see in the photo above.  It was hard to believe one tank had lasted that long, given the number of trips I'd made, but that's what being 3 miles (5 km)  from town will do for you.  It was satisfying to know that this part of the plan was already yielding results. 

Alayne and I have discussed trading in one of the trucks for a smaller, more fuel-efficient vehicle at some point, but we want to get a routine established here and see how much we'll use both trucks before making that decision.  (Both trucks are also completely paid for.)  We haul a lot -- whether horses, hay or other heavy, bulky loads -- and there have been plenty of times when one of us has been on the road hauling horses to the vet clinic or loading up the truck with supplies while the other has needed the second truck back at the ranch.  So we'll see how we end up.  

But in the meantime, it was good to see the first direct cost savings we anticipated as a result of moving to New Hampshire.  In fact, eight weeks between fill-ups is even better than we had expected!

Apparently just the sight of a veterinarian can provide magical -- and instant -- healing powers.  Or so little Bailey would have us believe. 

On Tuesday afternoon, Bailey began yiking when he moved his head in a certain direction.  Over the years, we've often had these kinds of episodic neck and back issues with the Dachshunds (most of whom are here because of spine-associated neuro problems), and our vets would typically prescribe prednisone to reduce the inflammation and provide quick relief.  Usually these were fleeting, quickly resolved things that responded beautifully to the pred, and then we'd begin to taper down the dose after several days.  So we immediately put Bailey on pred and confined him to a puppy pen in the living room.  Within a couple of hours he was comfortable, and we figured we'd continue the treatment protocol like we had before on previous occasions.

But on Wednesday morning, when I went to get Bailey out of his "boat" -- the bottom half of a big dog crate where we put his bed for the night -- he looked up at me and then yiked again.  And again.  Whenever he tried to look up, he yiked, and he held his head in way that indicated the problem was in his neck.  We gave him his morning dose of pred and kept him confined in the living room puppy pen, but by mid-morning he was still painful and seemingly getting worse.  Alayne called our new vet clinic, the Whitefield Animal Hospital, and got an appointment for late afternoon.  As the morning wore on, though, Bailey became more vocal, so Alayne called the clinic and asked if we could get him in earlier.

Shortly after 2 p.m. I bundled him in his "pee towel," put him in a crate, and drove down him to the clinic to see Dr. Nancy Lefavour.  (She is one of the two excellent veterinarians on the staff, along with Dr. Chris Plumley, and they have a wonderful support team of vet techs and front office people as well.  We're lucky to have them so close.)  As I explained to Dr. Lefavour the symptoms we'd seen, I carefully placed Bailey on the exam table ... and noticed that he was looking around the room, moving his head, seemingly without any discomfort.  Hmm.  

Dr. Lefavour listened to his heart and did a physical, then began a neuro evaluation.  She palpated his spine and found no signs of pain down his back.  Then she began working on his neck, trying to pinpoint the problem.  She slowly and gently moved Bailey's head to the left, then to the right, so he was almost touching his shoulder with his nose.  No response.  Then she flexed his head down so his nose was near the exam table.  No response either. 

I stared in disbelief.  But I thought, well, she's going to raise his head up next and that will be the trigger.

Ever so gently, she started coaxing his head upwards ... and his nose went higher and higher.  It was finally pointed at the ceiling.

But not a peep from the pipsqueak. 

She did the range of motion again, with the same result:  no reaction at all.

I told her, "I know you must think we're crazy, but he was yiking in pain two hours ago, just from raising his head up to look at me."  I was incredulous.

We put Bailey down on the floor so she could watch how he moved, and he got around just fine.  

Bailey wondered why everyone was staring at him.

I wondered why I had brought him.

The only thing we could conclude was that his morning dose of pred had finally kicked in.  Either that, or Dr. Lefavour indeed has some magical healing powers!

She recommended we continue with his pred and add a muscle relaxant, methocarbamol, and some pain medication, tramadol, to the mix, keep him confined and see how he does.

As I write this Thursday afternoon, Bailey is resting comfortably in the puppy pen next to my desk: