Today Amber is 5 months old.
We took her to the vet this morning to be spayed. She weighs 52.5 pounds! The office called a bit after noon, telling me that she had come through the procedure fine, was awake, and was walking around a bit. We can pick her up after 3:30.
My husband has spent most of the day in the shop, working on creating a rifle rest. He came in just a few minutes ago and we’ve now had some lunch.
I finally had a weather window where it seems we have a chance of 48 hours without rain, so I mixed up the KillsAll weed killer and sprayed it “off the edge of our world,” beyond what we refer to as the civilized part of our back yard, where Foy Brown came and cleared as much as possible with his brush hog recently. I’m trying to kill the rest of the old weed trees, plus the new ones already sprouting, plus other un-mow-able greenery.
It’ll probably take several sessions of spraying and then some time to see where we are on the project. I spent an hour out there today, and I was super hot and tired when I finished spraying the 2 gallons I mixed up. I’m hoping the weather will allow for me to continue my efforts tomorrow. I’d like to go farther down the hill where the big weed trees in the rocks are. I’m hopeful that the combination of Foy planning to brush hog twice a year and my efforts with the weed killer and loppers will keep that area under much better control, keep our view of the valley opened up, and keep our fire break.
As I was doing chores, I kept noticing how QUIET it is. I got up and refilled my coffee cup without having to juggle things carefully, open and close gates, balance coffee cup and put it up high on the file cabinet before coming in again and then moving carefully, avoiding getting mowed down.
I realized that I may be becoming addicted to Amber.
She is a LOT of trouble. I sport many more band-aids than I’ve ever worn in my life due to her sharp little bitty teeth. I have to plan ahead and CONCENTRATE to do the simplest things without mishap. I need to keep track of time to be sure I’ve taken her out and we’ve had a walk recently. I’m exhausted when we put her in her crate for the night, asleep almost before my head hits the pillow. We have to get up at a reasonable hour, rather than being able to sleep in, because we need to get the puppy out. We need to pay attention to where Molly and the cats are so they don’t get dive-bombed, etc., etc., etc.
At the bottom of it, though, is our lives are much richer. Amber filled the hole of our losing our pit bull, Bambi, after almost 14 years of sharing our lives with him. She forced us, not only to reach out to her, but allow her into our lives, changing every aspect of what we do every day in order to meet her needs. In doing that, we’ve gained a wonderfully rambunctious, affectionate family member. The other animals are finally calming down. There is still hissing and spitting from the cats, but they seem to realize she doesn’t intend to hurt them. Molly doesn’t like to be dive-bombed, but she knows we’re watching and making sure it doesn’t go too far. She still gets her share of our love and attention.
Since we’re older than dirt, we tend to get set in our ways. Amber has played fruit-basket-upset with that, making us rethink everything we do, and that’s a really nice gift. We are truly rich in our animal family, with Molly and Amber, Abby and Smoke, and the four bright gold fish. I find I miss the chaos Amber causes. Have I lost my mind?