2009...2010

2009 is gone and I can't really say I'm sorry to see the backside of it.

In one sense, it was a fantastic year - Lily was born with the most perfect, easy, blissful homebirth and has been sheer bliss ever since. I don't have the words to describe what a blessing she is to our family and to me.


I also added a bunny to our clan a year earlier than planned (I'd originally thought when La was 5-6 I could finally get one) and he is such a love... little Cinnamon the Cinnabun has been the dark horse in my feeling better with his bunny-magic.

I am aware that I am really very blessed.

Laurent is starting school soon at the Montessori which he adores. I'm hoping the stimulation of school will be a good move for him. His teachers there were delighted with him on all our interview and integration days which was lovely as he has given us some challenging behaviour recently. Several "helpful" people have felt the need to butt in with advice about using "better discipline" to create a 'more obedient' and 'compliant' child, which even if you know that sort of advice for what it is, is not a nice feeling.

Nic was also able to meet up with his aunt he's not seen in over 25 years, through his cousin Nina at Christmas which was gorgeous.

I've also been lucky enough to foster a litter of kittens who went on to great homes which is a fabulous feeling and another kitty who will hopefully find herself a forever home soon.

Without wanting to sound cheesy life has not always been filled with family and love and I am humbled how deeply lucky I am to have two healthy kids, a husband who loves and supports us, enough money to be comfortable, a safe home, no more hearing loss or drop attacks etc.

In other respects, we had a lot of bad and stressful things happen, although many had a lucky element to them as well.

• The fires came quite close to our home and the stress of waiting and wondering to see if it would or not every day for a few weeks was tremendous... but we were spared as was one of my favorite spots to visit, St. Ronan's Well, which I'm selfishly glad for.
  
  
• Our bank accounts were forged and stolen, we had no idea how we were even going to afford a bag of groceries let alone everything else... but we managed.
  
• Dealing with bungling police loosing our theft reports and not being able to pull their thumbs out to give us a straight answer for weeks... but we did get the money back after a few months and a few chewed arses.
  
• While I was refiling the report the police lost they noticed and fined me for an overdue registration, eventually resolved through VicRoads and found not to be my fault. All of this while I was pregnant and trying to figure out how to pay my midwives to afford my homebirth! Eep!
• A couple of good folks passed away, a couple of folks I thought were good turned out to be less of friends than I thought and I cut a relationship off that was fairly toxic.
  
• We had several large, unexpected expenses due to appliances breaking, cars falling apart, Nic finding a kangaroo with the front of his car etc but in each case despite having been very stressful and unpleasant, no one was hurt and we scratched by
  
• A tree fell on our home, splitting off the front, leaving us a large premium and no power/running water/electricity for weeks with the rains coming in the gaping hole where the front of our house used to be with an infant and bottle lambs.
  
• Incidentally the insurance was less than competent and left the electric mains wire unsecured when they turned the electricity on again hidden under the tarp inches from where I was readjusting it a dozen times to try and keep rain out. Mercifully I did not fry myself to death, two small children weren't left alone for hours until their father got home and no housefire was started either.
  
• Nic is on a waiting list to get an old injury which has healed badly dealt with, which unfortunately means surgery albeit hopefully a rather minor one.
• We fostered a litter of sick newborn kittens that sadly didn't make it despite tube and bottle feeding, antibiotics etc to try and help them.
• And most devastatingly Verity's loss

I am also aware that there are those who have suffered so much more than me... the loss of a child, of family and friends in the fires, the loss of homes and everything they own and diseases. Without wanting to sound dramatic or whiney in the face of how much worse it could have been, the loss of Verity and all that surrounded it was traumatic. I didn't even realize it really at first, though I'd known it would be hard and sad of course. Everyone commented how "well" I was taking it. It was a few weeks until the unreality of it wore off. For a long time I couldn't bear to look at or touch other dogs, go to events, nightmares every night, anxiety attacks, paranoid over every freak accident I could conceive of happening to Si, Hope, the kids or Nic taking them too from me. Many of my goals and desires with regards to the dogs especially have changed or simply dissolved. In so many ways I feel a stranger to the person I was when I entered the year as and I have not found my peace with those changes as they are so foreign to me.

I will still pursue somethings with my girls - among the only resolutions for the year are to (finally) get Sierra's obedience titles through to CDX and Hope to CD, Sierra's ED. (That last one will also require me to shed the extra *mumble* kilos I've put on through eating a metric ton of junk food and having drinks every night after loosing Veri as my oh-so-healthy way of dealing with things.) That should be reasonable and achievable given where they are. This is the polar opposite from the beginning of the year when we had four dogs here and plans for a fifth, intending to enter into 2010 showing, trialing and breeding.

Seemingly in contrast to the above, a short while ago we added a 2 year old Maremma named Shadow to protect our birds. Maremma are a breed of livestock guardian dog, created to be different to pet dogs - they bond to the sheep or birds as their pack and protect them.

The decision to get a Maremma was not one I went into easily, which is a nice way to say Nic pushed me into it while I was protesting and having anxiety attacks, on the basis the need for it hadn't changed and we couldn't continue to loose birds simply because I wouldn't take a teaspoon of cement. Shadow is a sweet and patient fellow and hasn't stepped a foot wrong since arriving, though forming a relationship with him is rather in spite of the timing than because of it.


As for our Christmas and Christmas vacation, it was quiet but good.

Lily (in her new Christmas dress) had a bit of a virus going on during Christmas so she was somewhat subdued but both kids enjoyed it and were gorgeous together.




We also took them to the sea for Lily's first visit recently, and on the advice of a lovely AB member went to Cape Paterson. Wow what a gorgeous area!

Lily had an absolute ball and was just in love with the idea of being able to splash up a storm!

La meanwhile was enchanted with the rock pools - some just big enough to be his personal pool and some big enough for several people to swim in - where he could spot snail shells, seaweed and such treasures.

Not to mention he is a little mountain goat, scrambling up and over the rocks like a natural while the rest of us struggled to find our footing!

This weekend we lost Duck-duck the goose to a fox attack. They were in the sheep yard while we were fencing around the new chooks area, so they were out while it was getting dusky. We're guessing the fox came up the neighboring paddock in which the grass is taller than the birds and waited till he was near enough to grab as we didn't hear it - not an easy task with 11kg of mature gander in breeding season.

This brought up the subject I've been avoiding... that of a livestock guardian dog. We'd been thinking of one for a year and a bit as other means don't suit. Electric netting would only protect birds, risk shocking children and be difficult over such a spread out area. Alpacas would protect lambs but not birds, couldn't come into the mid-yard and the one we boarded charged our dogs as readily as foxes. Donkeys were much the same as well as being loud and potentially deadly to the dogs.

Awhile ago one of my fellow animal nuts tells me about a Maremma coming to rescue from a bad situation I should consider. It'd been the typical story - bought as a fluffy pup and the owners quickly discovered that Maremma are large dogs with strong guardian instincts and big voices. I declined. I just couldn't. Hearing about her happy ending reminded me sometimes things goes right despite all the odds though. I met her to thank her for the reminder and the dog was a sweetheart - utterly lovely, gentle, very child oriented and totally unflapped by anything while out and about and still looking for a home.

I had subtle and 'not-so-subtle' nudges from her rescuer, foster home and Nic. I wrestled with the idea and hurt every time I got an e-mail, text, phone-call or Nic asked me about it. I was told everything I already know- that no dog will ever replace Veri, it's not intended to, it's okay to move on, we HAD needed one before loosing her and that need hadn't changed, if it was anything but a dog I'd have already gotten it without a second thought - which did nothing to change how things felt. I told myself how much I'd liked her, if it had happened before I wouldn't have hesitated. I wished I could just pull myself together. And I still felt miserable.

Enter Duck-ducks loss. Nic again said he thought I needed to consider the LGD. I said I understood but I'm crying constantly at the thought. Her loss is so different than when I've lost dogs before. He took the hard point and asked how many birds am I prepared to loose? How will I feel if I loose five or ten or twenty? Will dealing with their loss on top of Veri's outweigh confronting my loss of Verity?

I did call the rescue person who had also nudged me about the girl I'd been notified about. She's been adopted literally hours before. But there's another one she knows of who needs a home. Same story - her daughter brought home the puppy, now it's tied up all day and muzzled to attempt to prevent her from acting like a Maremma, neighbors have complained to the council, her poor owner is tapped dealing with her son who has disabilities that require a lot of her time, trying a husher (e-collar). She says she thinks that maybe it was meant to be. Maybe the first girl I'd met was just a messenger of sorts - she had a role to play but not my dog, maybe just to lead me to where I need to be.

Itty bitty kitties

As of a few days ago, we have four little foster kittens - Gibbs, Ziva, Abby and Duckie. They are quite possibly the most adorable kittens to ever exist. While we don't have an exact age on them, I'm guessing they're probably around 5 weeks. They'll stay here for a few weeks until they're old enough to go to their forever homes after they're microchipped, vaxed and spayed or neutered to ensure they don't continue the cycle of overpopulation. While they're lucky and were saved from their initial fate of being put to sleep, many kittens just like them are not so lucky and end their brief lives after the pounds and shelters have to euthanize them every 'kitten season'.

Gibbs is the most outgoing, the one into everything and a bit of a talker. He's happy for a cuddle but too interested in exploring everything to stay still for long. He's the first one our resident kitty Jasper has decided is fun to play with.

Ziva like Gibbs is a very adventurous little one. She's a champion climber and out wrestles her brothers frequently and even plays spitfire to the dogs, hissing and arching her back while they fail to notice her. LOL

Abby is a sweetie, quite cuddly but she also loves to explore all the nooks and crannies. She is an absolute sweetie and one of La's favorites to nab for pats.

And then there's Duckie... last but certainly not least, just the hardest to get a good photo of as he is lap fungus... LOL He's blissed out and purring here, straight in the middle of my lap as I'm trying to take photos and hold Lily.

Having them here as well as being privy to another rescue a few days before theirs has been such a blessing, it's lovely to remember that amid all of the sad occurrences, sometimes things go right despite the odds and there are happy endings.

Parenting Fail - Lily's first solid food

That's right... my beautiful "we're delaying solids" 6 month old, the child we avoid chemicals, artificial colouring, scents, preservatives with. The one whose parents try to stick with organic local or homegrown and healthy foods...

just HAD to swipe a piece of her brothers birthday cake for her very first solid food!!!!!

I was holding her and my piece when she nabbed it and quickly mashed it into her face with loud lip smacking enthusiasm! I'm consoling myself it'll be a good story to embarrass her with later in life.

RIP Harley

Some years ago I worked at a vet clinic and one day I came to work and heard something wailing loudly from the point I entered the staff entry downstairs. When I got up there, I discovered all that ruckus was coming out of an absurdly tiny, filthy waif of a kitten in a carrier in our treatment room.

Gods what a MESS it was... full of ear mites and grunge, a snotty nose, gunky eyes, fleas, worms, dehydrated and so covered in rotten garbage and faeces from not being able to move when he defecated we initially weren't sure what colour he was precisely. I tentatively stuck my finger up to the cage, half expecting he may be feral when he butted his mucky head up against my finger and burst into an astonishingly big purr for such a tiny kitten. His purr was later to earn him the name of Harley.

As it turned out he'd had a very nasty broken leg and some damage in the pelvis in what was believed to be an attack by a baseball bat or similar object before he was thrown in the dumpster he was rescued from. Initially it was assessed the leg would have to come off but in the end he kept it. Cade, my Italian Greyhound, 'adopted' and fussed him like a clucky hen. If the kitten went where he shouldn't in the clinic, Cade trotted after him, nabbed him by the scruff of his neck and carried him back.

I got an e-mail this morning to let me know that he had been attacked and killed by the family dog and the damage was so bad there was nothing for the vet to patch together. He was the most placid cat, not always the brightest - we rather suspected he'd sustained a bit of brain damage from his attack - but sweet as the day was long. I can't even fathom him meeting that kind of end. Unfortunately this is not the end of the bad news for this week either but that's another story.

RIP Harley, I'm sure Cade has found you in heaven and you've both found a sunny patch to snooze the days away in.

I've been thinking a lot of Cami recently, partly because Nic has suggested that perhaps it would be good to get another puppy - something I am in no way, shape or form ready for given I can barely look at pictures without crying. And partly because we're going to the same (poultry) shows and auctions I took her to last year as a little baby and having to tell everyone why she's not here. I'm glad people remember her and I do enjoy sharing the funny little things they remembered about her but it opened it up again and along with remembering comes the guilt and hurt.

Then yesterday Laurent came down with some sort of virus and spiked a fever. He's been running temps between 38.5 and 40C last night and through today. He swings from cooperative to wailing like a lost soul and nothing is right in his world. He hurts, food tastes bad, his stomach is yucky, his feet are cold, the light is bright and everything is too loud. While I was making breakfast this morning, he looked around and asked where Cami was between mouthfuls of cornflakes and started telling me about an adventure he'd had with her last night not seeming to remember she has died. The adventure was totally made up - he and Cami had gone hunting for honey and climbed a tree to get it with balloons and bees a la Winnie The Poo and Christopher Robin - obviously something he'd dreamed of but it started a whole slew of questions.

Probably a dozen times today he's asked where she is. I try to be honest with him instead of hiding the truth or using sugarcoated euphemisms, so we tell him that someone in a car ran over Cami and Cami's body was too broke for her to live in anymore so she died. Death is what happens when your body is too sick or too broke to be fixed anymore and you can't keep living in it. It's about the simplest way I could think of to explain what happens and he seems very at ease with the ideas of some owwies being too bad to fix and of death meaning you leave your body.

He recounts that she had a bad ouchie from the car, that she was laying on the porch and he had to be careful only to touch her on her head and not on her ouchies. (When we found her I had to keep him from trying to hug her better.) We put her on the blanket and took her to the car and mummy was very upset. We went to see the doctors at the vets and they gave her "IB" (an IV) to make her feel better. She was on the table (at the vets) and he pulled up the blanket to keep her warm. We had to put her in the cage on the blankets to be warm. The vets band aids (solution to all injuries in the world according to 3 year olds) weren't good enough to fix her. Cami was too broke for the doctor to fix and her body died. Over and over and over he keeps asking where she is and then remembering and recounting it all through his fever. Hopie doesn't have owwies though. She wants bikkies. Only Cami got bad owwies. Veri and Sisi don't have owwies either. They like to play tennis ball still. But Cami had bad owwies the doctor couldn't fix and died. Over and over.

Today was not a day I looked forward to - the car needed servicing.

Yeah, I hear you - big honking deal. Except that servicing the car here entails waking up the 3.5 year old and 2 month old at 5:30AM, hauling them out into the cold to drop Nic off to the train and then deal with settling two cranky, overtired children once we get home before later waking them up early enough to drop off to the mechanics, whereupon I'm stranded for the day with two small children, one cranky with a cold and the nearest bus stop a 2.5 kg walk, for a 45 minute ride to the nearest train station. Sound like anyones idea of fun yet??? What? No takers? I'm shocked!

At any rate, today was not as terrible as it could be although it wasn't fun. It started upon arrival where we found they had penciled us in for Wednesday instead of Thursday as asked for and were cross with us having been 'no shows' from incorrectly penciling us in. So we walked into town, we stopped at the pizza joint, we had excellent nosh and headed toward the playground to wait for the bus. When we got there some local youths had smeared excrement all over everything, up and down the slides, on the rocking critters etc - try explaining that to a 3 year old! So we walked back into town - or rather I walked carrying Lily while La whinged and tantrumed in true unreasonable and ill 3.5 year old style. We watched the birds for awhile

and poked around the shops... one of which sells some local handspun/dyed yarn and when I saw this I just had to pick it up! It's $9 for aprox 90g but the neat part is the fiber content: it's dyed sheep and white samoyd - yes, SAMOYD... as in the big white fluffy DOG.

After this we caught the bus, with La claiming to have an owwie back and was sick on the bus, progressing into screaming, wailing and hysterics. He is still feeling miserable as anything and sacked out with a fever.

At any rate, we made it home and I went to let the dogs out when I noticed a goose in the yard...

This is not MY goose. Well... it is now I suppose but I digress. The day before we'd had a woman pull up claiming she'd found a goose walking down the road (as you do...), it had laid an egg, her dog was going to eat it and was it mine. It goes without saying this happened just as I was trying to get the fire going and succeeding after 20 minutes of babying it along, the dishes were stacked everywhere for washing, pile of unsorted laundry was waiting for folding on the couch, La was whinging about breakfast and Lily was just feeling disgruntled over being set down so I could start a fire and warm the place to something above subzero, let alone had a chance to put a brush through my hair or make-up on. Mine were secure in their yard so I suggested maybe it belonged to a neighbor who has geese but if it wasn't, she was welcome to leave the bird with me. I didn't hear from her so I assumed it must've been the neighbors but I'm guessing that having found it in my yard today, it must not have been! So now I've got another goose.

And this is just one for me. I completed the scarf bit awhile ago and decided to start felting a little black tri Aussie on it for La who wants a "dog like Hopie". I've roughed in most of the body shape but still have to do the head and bear in mind it's still very rough and will be more refined by the time I'm done. :) This is done with tufts of wool rovings (picture a cotton ball if you tore it apart) placed on the scarf into the desired shape and needled down. The felting needle on the left tangles the fibers together until they mat into felt and attach to the scarf. Good fun!

Cruising along

Little madam is 2 months old now and has grown heaps - 5 cm longer and 1.26kg up from her birth measurements. She has discovered her voice and the power of smiling at people to get them to interact and frequently has long 'conversations'. We are just cruising along, still rather riding the high from her birth. She is just beautiful and generally such an easy-going little soul over all. In a weird way, parenting two is easier than one as she seems to balance him out really.

Laurent has hit a bit of a rough patch, either due to a cold, a major growth spurt (holy dooley, this kid sprouted overnight!) and/or finally seeing some adjustment from her arrival. He swings from being the most unbelievably sweet, gorgeous, considerate, helpful little person to feeling incredibly frustrated and crying over things that normally wouldn't make him blink.

He's going well with his toilet learning again though and his vocabulary has had another explosion as well lately. (Not all for the better though, if you grasp my meaning! Shame on mummy!) Nic also has him pronouncing things very snobbishly ie 'herbs' etc. It's all good though - I've got him breaking out with 'mate' and 'onya' to annoy the crap out of Nic in return... so he switches from very prim and proper to ocker when asking you to "pass the herbs, mate"! (I am so going to hell for manipulating my child's vocab to annoy my husbands sensibilities!)

In the meantime it is well and truly winter here and building the fire is a morning essential. Despite it being a season where not much is growing or changing in the garden, it's exciting in it's own way as there's much dreaming, scheming, planning and preparing to do so come spring everything will be ready to burst into life. We feed the soils... incorporating lots of nutrient rich organic matter and letting it settle in. Later we'll mulch. Improving the soil has been an issue since we moved in being on heavy clay lime, badly compacted, with almost no topsoil. It just chokes the plants - the clay is impenetrable to roots, suffocates them and repels water like it's teflon coated. The lawns and paddocks are still works in progress - I need to rent an aerator for the lawn and maybe hire a slasher or something for the paddocks? I have more research to do there. My smaller garden beds are turning into lovely loamy rich soil though and our new (recycled!) 3 bay compost built just after Lily was born is nearly full up! I've also got plans to put in new beds in the front garden and in the rear and plant heritage variety apple trees I've pre-ordered for July/August.

We are still waiting on purchasing the second car now that Nic has taken mine. Waking at 5:30am to haul a 3.5 year old and a 2 month old out into the freezing cold to drop him off, then resettling, than doing in reverse at night is just too much for most days! It's doing my head in though, as there have been times when I have literally not seen or talked to another human being aside from Laurent, Lily and Nic for a full week and given Nic's hours I only see him about 2 hrs in the evening. Most days we're fine as there is enough to us busy but I'm very much looking forward to having a car again and being able to see people again all the same!

I feel like it's a bit of a winter period for me as well, hibernating and letting my thoughts age before they are brought out. There is growth and change but like the roots of a plant it's mostly happening underneath and unseen. Every time I go to write what is on my mind at the moment though I stall or it's all just fragmentary thought stream. Spring feels like it has so much potential though and I'm kind of enjoying the feeling.

At any rate this is all to say that I'm still here, just more quietly and spending my time enjoying Laurent and Lily, watching the sheep grow woolly while the lambs are growing strong, the birds are all settling into winter. Even our Jasper has matured into a lovely cat and starting to settle from his kittenish ways.

In the meantime planning my garden and indulging rather heavily in knitting and felting. Felting wise I've been doing fulling (felting my knitting) like this Aussie which I also hand-dyed and will embroider shortly. This is the first one I dyed instead of skeins of yarn and I forgot to turn it to get the best depth to the colour, hence the red of the merle being darker in some areas than others.

and needle felting which is awesome! The 'leaf' bits of this little lily of the valley I knitted are needle felted. This one is obviously awaiting dye, as I want a few more pieces before I pull out the dyes and make a big mess.

Lace continues to devil me, cables intimidate me but I love the flow of the yarn under my fingers and I am getting better and learning new techniques although I'm sure my work is still clumsy and noviceish to experienced knitters but I'm proud of it none the less! For a treat I bought some yummy yarns I liked at Spotlight which are just for ME. Aren't they purdy?
from bottom left:

• white Moda Vera Kicky, a silky acrylic 8 ply
  
• bottom right - greens colourway of MV Milliefoglie which is a very soft, self striping yarn whose colourways look like different yarns joined in
• top right MV Picchio a worsted weight 70% Merino Fine superwash, 30% silk with long gradiant colourways (going to become a mistake rib neck warmer)
  
• top left the blue and lime number... from Lincraft though I can't recall the name
• and last MV Monsoon, also worsted weight and made of soya with a metalic twist in a natural/rusty/amythest colourway... soooo soffttttt... it's hard to resist snuggling it!
  

One of these days I'm going to have time to sit down to journal all the things I'm thinking about but as it is, time and a 1 month old limit the more in depth thoughts getting onto the proverbial paper. Still they are things I do want to get down - especially on things like Lily turning a month old and my thoughts on her birth and mothering at the moment. It's been so fantastic, all of it, I'm really still on a high from her birth and beyond clucky for more... more pregnancies, more labor, more bubbas!

In the meantime, today I went to a Gloria Lemay "Bringing Birth Back To Women" discussion and while I was there I received a phone call to let me know Latte, my other moorit ewe, had delivered twins - a little spotted ewe lamb (getting a drink in the photo) and a little ram lamb with a few white hairs. Not the best photo as it was dark by the time I got home but trust me they are very cute!

Vale Cami

Look at her. Puppy soft, milk breathed, sweet, sleepy little puppykins... even on the ride home after picking her up she curled up quietly. She was the cutest little poppet, a roly-poly little red teddybear with bright blue eyes. Toddling after us and pouncing on leafs in the garden, snuggling at every opportunity, quick clever little duckie. She reminded me of aspects of Sierra and Verity both.

Most of her babyhood was spent snoozing or being cuddled by one person or the other. She went to all the poultry shows and auctions from here to Euroa tucked comfortably in arms or snuggled in a sling when she needed a break from pats. Likewise she was toted to a number of poultry shows and snoozed her way through being carried around or at times catching a ride on a friend who is in a wheelchair. Most times dogs are not allowed around poultry sheds at shows/auctions as even well behaved ones set the birds off if they're not used to dogs, however she was so quiet she might have been fuzzy extension of my coat for all the birds cared. If I'd had clones, I could have sold her a thousand times over - no one would believe she was a little live wire at home! (A trait she maintained as she demonstrated at the few shows/trials she was at sitting with me in a camping chair sprawled on her back in my lap and sound asleep.)


(Typical baby views)

(At Euroa poultry auction, taking in the world from the comfort of the sling.)
She had absolute hero worship going on with Verity that never failed to make me laugh. If she could have spoke, "She's SO cool!" would have been her catchphrase. She trailed after her with adoring eyes, like a stereotypical pesky little sister. Mind you it didn't stop them from wrestling around like wild-things and both girls favored the rough-n-tumble style of play.

(Veri playing Auntie and wrestling gently with her.)

(Gembrook, near the market)

(Such a happy baby...)
Her name came from La... his third choice after the first two (Nibbles - which is cute till you consider he reverses B's and P's... and Pink Milk) were vetoed and in puzzlement when I asked, "What's her name La?" replied, "Cameron's Baby" which his pronunciation mushed into Cam..i. Like all dogs here nicknames quickly followed. Cami turned to Cameo, which La lisped as to Cami-jo, or just plain Jo, which spurred Joey, Josie, Jo-bird, Birdie, Cami in Red Jammies (Pyjamas), Cameo-meo-myoh etc etc

(Still good at snoozing anytime there was an offer...)
Like with Hopie, La and Cami were glued at the hip. First thing I hear in the mornings is, "Mum, it's time to get up! The moon is down and the sun is up - time for brekkie and let girlies out!" Where Hope is a tennis ball addict though, Cami's fav was the Squeaky Yellow Football and it was toted nearly everywhere. It's in the cupboard now, La found it a few days ago and I froze hearing it squeak madly all the sudden. Being a cheeky girlie and of similar disposition to La (both come with two speeds - 'on' and 'splat') she and La were also perfect - and frequent - partners in crime. All too often I found La perched on the counter, crumbs scattered everywhere, hand literally in the cookie jar protesting, "But MU-UM... Jo asked for bikkie!"

(Wet and muddy after playing at the dam, all four girls)
She loved the sheep. I would have seriously loved to see what a little dynamo working dog she'd have turned into. She'd have been a natural on cattle I think, gutsy little thing. Even from a tiny little critter she'd level out - a strong eyed little tyke - stalking up with slow steps toward the cows (on the other side of the fence!) with intent and concentration that looked out of place on a few kilos of fuzzball baby. When they stomped and eventually turned spooked, she'd puff up pleased as punch, clearly proud of herself. She had no use for the sheep until she was a few months older and realized they were essentially short funny looking cows and more importantly - available. Quirky girl, she flatly hated the tin sheds though and the way noise echoed in them. Not even sheep were worth a tin shed.

A "mostly clean" portrait shortly after a bath... still has to have that bit of mud in there though! She wouldn't have been Cami without a bit of dirt. This is my favorite portrait, it is very 'her'.
When it ended up that she wasn't going to be going overseas, I don't think it shocked anyone that I was in no hurry for her to leave and found plenty of reasons for her to stay. She was just a fun little girlie, full of herself, cheeky and full of character.

(My other favorite, same reason - two cheeky little people running cheerfully amok at full tilt.)

I've sat to write and I just end up sitting and staring at the page and pictures, remembering funny little things she did. Writing it, seeing it in black and white, is too final.

I can't believe it happened at all. I can't believe it happened despite the fencing. When we moved here it was dangerous - barb wire and electric string. Good for cattle but not kids, dogs, poultry or sheep. So we fenced in the whole thing, with the idea of creating zones, so if ever a dog or child got out of one they'd still be stopped by other fenced areas. The dog's yard is enclosed between the paddocks (where it acts as a double against child being able to get to stock and dam) and the front garden and garage/driveway that opens to the road. So even if the dogs got out of their yard, they'd still be safe in the enclosed front yard should the gate to the drive get unlatched. We chose tallest fencing for the area. Hard to climb, too narrow to squeeze through, sturdy gauge, heavy gates. Hard to dig areas (lined by 80+ year old rhododendrons and massed agapanthus - both with large incredibly dense root systems) for fence lines. And it still happened in a few minutes when we couldn't have been a few hundred meters away.

I can't process the disparity of the images in my head from happy, healthy girls to her being hurt to being gone.

They tumbled through the gate into their yard, wriggling happily and panting light after I'd watched La and them play fetch the tennis ball/football. All four girls standing up at the gate cold noses nudging my fingers as I fastened it snuffling to see if there was any trace of treats left. I ruffled them on the head - the top sort of between/near the ears where it's all velvet plush... noted I'd need to trim Cami and Si's ears. (Hope and Veri's stay pretty neat, Si and Cami get wild-woolies.) Yeah, yeah silly girls, we'll take a walk in a minute.

Then coming back, waving to the neighbor, walking up, seeing Cami laying there. What on earth was she doing in the front!?! Sinking feeling as I took in the 'not rightness' of her rear posture. La and Nic were ahead of me. La had already dropped Nic's hand and taken off to go hug her. Shouting to Nic to stop La. How the hell did she get in the front? The ground is hard as rock, it's a nightmare to excavate - even the tractor guy drilling the fence posts griped and the bobcat guy doing the path had rocked forward a few times. But it'd been raining, maybe it softened the ground just enough if she squeezed hard? But if she dug, what could have happened in the front yard? I mean it's enclosed and the gate was shut. All this running through my mind as I'm ringing on the phone and trying to stay calm enough not to just jibber while my inner voice is shrilling, 'oh please please please let it just be a broken leg... please let me be very, very wrong... I'm not a vet, I could be wrong...'

Trip to the after-hours emergency vet. Flat out exhaustion... guh, still feeling like crap from being ill/back out/not sleeping. All the upset over the theft of the wallet and money, report bodge-up, flu, thrown-back are monumentally unimportant and insignificant - why the heck was I stressing about that when it was just STUFF. I mean it sucked sure but the world would eventually go on and we'd survive it. Compared to the really important stuff in life it's not important at all. Home. Phone calls. Report from the vet. Thoughts blurring through my head, uncertainty over what the next day would bring, praying the ultrasound didn't show bladder damage. Why the hell didn't I just lock them up inside in their crates is stuck on loop in my mind. I've griped about people leaving dogs in yards during the day while they work. I should have known there was a chance for some freak accident. I should have never left them without my eyes on them ever. Because it was just for a minute and a few hundred meters? Like I could run that fast even if I saw her get out even if I wasn't pregnant. How freaking horribly stupid am I.

She had been stabilized overnight and was on supportive care and pain medications on Labor Day. She'd had the radiographs and sonography. She had multiple, severe breaks throughout the pelvis and rear, nerve damage so no feeling. Someone I will not deign to call a human being opened the gate and ran her over, carried her up to our house, put her near the porch, refastened the gates and left her like that. There were no skid marks or anything, it must have been backing in and didn't see her? I don't know. It's better than believing they saw and just didn't brake. Not that it changes anything. No way she could have run a meter let alone up the drive and back into the yard closing gates behind her. In the days before, we'd had our new neighbors on the left give the wrong address to a water cartage truck who started to open the gate at the road before I read them the riot act because what if we'd been in the garage (which opens to the driveway) instead of in the yards! Freaking idiots, gates are there for a reason, honk your horn and WAIT.

I can't believe any human would run over someone, carry her, dump her and walk away leaving her in shock and pain not knowing how long before she'd be found. We couldn't have been minutes but what if we were like half the people around here who leave dogs in the yard all day while we work and it was hours till we got home! I won't print the words I have for that person. I wonder how they'd like it if the same was done to them and how they can sleep at night having looked into her eyes and turned away. I checked the mailbox the next day - maybe they just panicked in a moment of shock. Maybe they left a note. Something to show they were human. Nothing. I hate looking at people driving by and wondering if it was that person or that person or that one.

I brought her home and buried her in the garden. It is so quiet without her. That probably sounds weird because there are three rowdy dogs, a kitten and a 3 year old here along with geese, ducks, chooks and sheep but it's quiet. Miserable doesn't cover it. I've swung between wanting to bubble wrap everyone and never leave home again, bawling, depressed and sheer fury at the driver, at myself and at how one little thing different and all would still be well.

You can sort of accept illnesses... you do everything you can but when life becomes a burden and suffering outweighs enjoyment regardless of our help, we do what is right for them if not for us. With Cade and his brain tumor, Bella and her epilepsy and even further back Bria and her congestive heart failure there was simply nothing else to do or try. The reality was that as much as my emotions railed against reality and demanded there should be something more to be done... no human could alter the unchangeable. But how do you reconcile something like this with a young, healthy little girl full of life yet to live???