During our ice-apocalypse, I noticed my animals all had something to prove of themselves at Holt Homestead. All of the animals at our home are loved and cared for. However, they all have a job to do. One of our young roosters refused to be caught and put away to be snug and warm during the ice storm. Tired and irritated after housing 24 chickens, I found myself slipping and sliding in the cold, icy mud to catch him. Much to my dismay, he made a grand escape, finding a place to hide. Tossing and turning, I stayed awake most of the night, worrying whether or not he would make it, stubborn as he tends to be. Just before daybreak, I was up before any crowing began, wearing my robe and slippers, I crunched my way to the chicken yard only to find him perched on top of the fence. If he'd had a fist, he would have shaken it at me. His crow, in rooster language meant, "I'm tough," he said to me in southern twang. "I showed you."
My German Shepherd dog Chief had to stay inside the laundry room during the icy evening. He had something to prove with the gift he left for me after my early morning trip outside to see if the rooster made it through. Chief told me he couldn't do his job sufficiently on the inside of the house; his job for the house is patrol chief, keeping us safe from whatever goes bump in the night. He left me a smelly reminder to deter me from boarding him again. After cleaning up after him, I just may take him up on it.
Our trio of felines had something to prove but it wasn't towards me. Of the three, only one isn't a rescue pet. Bronte (named after Charlotte), was a gift from my eldest daughter. Bronte came to us at 5 weeks old and she considers herself queen of the house. The other two rescues, Jane and Klaus (my daughter Kate's rescue), have sweeter dispositions. However, Bronte is the huntress of the three. She earns her keep while the other two are freeloaders. The circus began when I brought the three inside to stay warm but they each had to contend with each other. They all voiced their distaste with wailing and gnashing of teeth. Most of the evening was breaking up feline battles of wits and threats of violence.
But I digress.
It is always fun for me to tend my animals and I learn lessons as I go about my business of keeping them fed, safe and happy.
This time it was Oliver and Louis, the pair of goats who are excellent at their job of clearing our acreage. When I arrived home from work in the late afternoon to enclosed them in their barn and out of harm's way of the weather, they had already made their way inside, were cozy and happy to see me. They have nothing to prove. They follow me everywhere. Mostly because I am the woman with cookies.