Some weeks fly by, leaving you
wondering about what you really achieved and was it any good!? Some weeks seems
to be made out of clay and you just get heavier as you trudge through it all.
Then there are the weeks that make you wish you lived in town. That particular
week is coming to an end today, as it's Sunday.
Mr. Chip had an operation on
Wednesday. It all started with a tiny lump under his tail. A few days ago the
lump plopped out and turned into a biggish growth, a red and angry looking
thing that needed to be removed. So we did just that.
Our vet made the most petite looking
row of stitches so our happy dog does not seem to have noticed them at all. As
Mr. Chip has his own set of medicines on the go, we now try to keep the
operating scar clean by showering, applying disinfectant liquid and a honey
based cream. This is to avoid antibiotics that then would mess up our dear dogs
Cushing syndrome. So far so good and our kind dog takes it all in his stride.
We also have painkillers for him but he does not seem to need them. I gave half
a pill on the second night, as terriers don't show pain very well, but I did
not see a difference in him. He sleeps well and eats like a horse, all good
signs after an operation.
Mandy the sheep is limping again. We
believe that it's a muscle in her shoulder that gets sore when she gets up too
quickly. She did that yesterday. I will try a new round of painkillers for her
if it's not better today. She eats like a horse too and is really enjoying the
bilberry season. The berries are now ready for picking and are being enjoyed by
sheep, hens and me. Mr. Chip too...
On Friday evening my dear husband
spotted an elk on a field quite far away from our house. As I'm a bit of a fan
of elks I rushed to get the binoculars, to have a closer look. My heart sank
when I spotted it, though. It was a smallish elk and it seemed to drag its back
legs, having a very bent lower back. Almost falling down, it disappeared into
the crop of the field and all I could see was a head being thrown this way and that.
So we called our friend the Hunter.
This is never easy for me as I'm a
great believer in live and let live but even I could see that aspirin was not
going to cut it, this time. I thought a car had hit the poor elk, but it turned
out to be a deformation from birth that the animal was suffering from. My dear
husband went to take a closer look and we could confirm that the elk needed
help to get to heaven, sooner rather than later. Help arrived and the shot rang
loud and horrible clear through the summers evening. Then you could see four
men walking in formation, checking that there was no small calf hiding in the
field. It all looked a lot like a dark, gruesome Swedish detective series and
once again I was grateful for the help of the hunters. (No baby was found...).
It's never an uplifting experience,
having to put an animal down but unfortunately in some cases it's the only
humane thing to do. This was handled in a dignified manner and quickly.
The next morning, after a night’s
sleep dreaming of radiation and suffering (me) we woke up to find a swallow
hovering in our bedroom. They are like tiny helicopters. My dear husband woke
up and exclaimed, "It never ends! " and I knew nature was taking its
toll on him, too. He then proceeded to lead the bird out by slowly walking
towards the front door, arms raised above his head, looking like a slightly
bewildered preacher. It worked and we had less wildlife joining us for the
first coffee of the day.
This morning when I let the animals
out from the stable, two enormous birds of pray swooped in on us. They turned
when they saw me but really!! You would think I make these things up, the way
this week is going...
My dear husband did not think this
blog would be a very cheerful text to read. He is right, as he sometimes is,
but it's about living in the country. It's not always happy sheep and sweet peas;
it's life as it is. We just have to hope it gets better and find solace in the
fact that we did what we could to help. We can also be happy that a friend of ours
thought Mr. Chip looked positively youngish. What more can you wish for?!
Well... A less emotional next week, perhaps....
 |
| Credit: Dasha Dimitrova |
On a more positive note, the hare
population in our village is thriving. We have the European hare and the
Mountain hare, also called the Blue hare. This is because its thick undercoat
apparently has a bluish colouring. It also copes better with the winter cold,
as it has shorter ears and therefore loses less body heat. Clever! The European
hare is bigger and has a vision range of almost 360 degrees, always handy for
spotting predators from above and on the ground. It's hearing is not bad,
either....
These are still the animals our hens
seem to be wary of. Happy, jumping vegetarians... "You never know..."
our hen's tell us. They are right, of course, you never do.
Text by Nina
Next blog on the 17th July
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