Simple Hobby Homesteading

Fuzzy Bear reporting…

Ok, listen up folks, seriously, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… this farm needs its own reality show. Well, at least one lonely soul to follow Farmer Lady around with a camera to capture some of this stuff on film. I can’t make this stuff up,  even if I tried and no television show holds a candle to the shenanigans she finds herself in.

Let’s take today for example… farmer Lady’s friend texted and said she had deer scarps left from her dad’s processing and wanted to know if we’d like them. Ummmmm… duh…. YES! Guns scare the livin’ daylights out of me but I’m all for venison so I’ll support hunters. Farmer Lady went and picked up three huge garbage bags full of meaty venison deliciousness.

As she hauled the bags out of the trailer I could hardly contain my exhilaration. Ratchet sauntered over to check out the intoxicating aroma of fresh meat.

Dear puppy,

This is venison… and it’s… well… it’s like tasting heaven. Please understand Ratchet puppy that there may not be enough venison for you… after all I am rather large and we all know Axel, Buddy, Nala, and I will get meaty legs. Puppy, a deer only has four legs. You can’t count yet puppy but there are four big dogs ahead of you. I’m sorry puppy.

Farmer lady parceled out legs as was right and then gave me instructions that I don’t think I heard correctly. It seems that the words, “Now Fuzzy, you share with Ratchet,” inexplicably stumbled from her lips. Surely I heard her wrong. Had she lost her mind?

The moment her back was turned I grabbed my leg and disappeared deep into the woods where no pup dared follow. I returned about thirty minutes later after successfully burying my treasure and found Farmer Lady emptying the garage deep freeze to “make room” for her amazing venison haul. Ratchet was cheerfully shredding and wolfing down strips of delectable venison. There was a whole pile of mouthwatering meat that we were all expected to share nicely while farmer Lady would freeze the rest. Expectations are set pretty high on The Shepherd Hobby Farm and we live up to them well so we shared happily, all five of us.

As she emptied and organized frozen meat into baskets Ratchet was grabbing chunks and scampering to the far corners of the garage. I gave a low growl of warning to the little tyke but it barely fazed him. To top it all off I got a reprimand from Farmer Lady while her head was buried in the freezer, “Fuzzy, be nice to him.”

Farmer Lady finally looked up as Ratchet was dragging off a bag of delicious duck meat. Ooooohhhhh he was gonna be in trouble! “Silly puppy,” was her response… really? “SILLY PUPPY”… that’s it? I really should go on strike, the treatment at this hobby farm is unfair! She retrieved ratchet’s stash of meat and placed every hunk back in the baskets. Once again, she dove head first into the deep freeze and once again Ratchet started dragging off hunks of meat from the baskets. I could not believe my eyes… the audacity of this pup and the utter ignorance from this woman… Something had to be done.

I snapped at Ratchet and he dropped his latest conquest, a bag of chicken feet. I picked up the bag and attempted to place it back in the basket. Just at that moment Farmer Lady pulled out of the deep freeze and saw me standing there, over the basket, with a bag of chicken feet in my mouth. “Fuzzy… were you the one who taught Ratchet to be a little thief? You goofy girl, I’m going to have to keep an eye on you!”

That was just too much. I dropped the bag and walked off. She is shunned… I am giving her the cold shoulder for at least a week… she will not be allowed to rub my big, white, soft , fluffy head… I will pick my own burrs out of my fur… I will go without brushing for the week… and there will be no high fives from this dog. That should show her! As for Ratchet… well I just don’t know. I like the little guy but he really seems to get me in trouble with little to no effort.

Completely unrelated, my afternoon did end on a high note when Farmer Lady forgot she had plugged the horses’ electric fence in and proceeded to duck under “real quick” to brush out manes. She got the shock of a lifetime all the way up her spine and admittedly I giggled. Instead of backing out she went forward and found herself quite stuck in the paddock surrounded by electrified polytape. The big barn door was locked from the inside so she couldn’t go through there and she hadn’t put the new gate on its hinges yet so it was still secured quite well with strong zip ties. I do believe I saw her processing the possibility of chewing through those zipties rather than low crawling under the electric fence. In the end she low crawled under the fence and ratchet licked her face the entire time. Well played pup, well played.

Bon Appétit,

Fuzzy Bear