So early last week the weather was pretty doggone amazing. We did receive as spot of snow and then Mom spied some creeping phlox that were blooming on one of our walks. Flowering phlox in early January? What kind of sorcery is this? Guess this just shows what high altitude sunshine is capable of doing. It’s not a beauty shot, but COME ON…plants blooming in January…you gotta admit, that’s really something.
The next day after some of the snow melted, Mom noticed her strawberry plant was green and colorful. Again…more plant black magic. Mom was almost ready to break out the flip flops but then she remembered The National Western Stock Show begins January 6 and that always seems to bring much colder temperatures, so I convinced her to cool her jets. Notice the little white granules? The snow didn’t last very long as warmer temperatures returned. The forecast looked good at this point.
Apparently Nature and the universe were conspiring together. Mom got a call about whether or not she could make a trip to Missouri. Some of you even guessed what that was all about but let me set the stage for those of you who don’t know how crazy Mom reacts when she receives ‘those’ kinds of calls.
Since my brother Norman crossed the Rainbow Bridge last June, Mom has been very sad. You may recall that she’s part of a dedicated group of folks who were starting their own OES Rescue after the old one shut down but between the state agency that governs rescues and bureaucratic rules, the certification process has been slow going. We’re still waiting for approval but [hopefully] are getting closer to operating. Mom did find a few individual dogs through other rescues including a couple who were even in our metro area but she kept coming up short so she decided may fostering might put her closer to her goal of getting another OES.
Enter the Red River Old English Sheepdog Rescue (RRR), a rescue whose adoption and rescue area includes parts of the Southern Plains where the Red River of the South is located. States they generally serve are New Mexico, Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas. They received a call from the family of a Missouri breeder saying they had seven AKC registered sheepdogs they needed to surrender. Turns out that the breeder had tragically passed away recently and the surviving family realized they could not manage the estate, take care of nine dogs, and assorted livestock. The 20-yr. old son said he would keep two of the dogs, and surrender the other five females and two males to rescue. RRR does not transport and their network of fosters take care of dogs until they are adopted out but they would need to be picked up from the tiny rural town about 50 miles south of Kansas City, Missouri. Mom checked the weather report and initially it seemed doable, so she agreed.
Mother Nature must have been listening eavesdropping on that call and decided to do a little update to the forecast and decided that a little snow was needed just to make things interesting. Mom’s good friend, my Auntie Cheryl said she ride with us and we took off early Friday morning. In good conditions, it’s over 9 hours away. The hope was that they would arrive before the flakes began.
Yeah…the best laid plans and all that nonsense. Snow started coming down halfway through Kansas but it wasn’t accumulating and the highway was clear. Yet. It would, once we turned off I-70 when the sun went down. Mom absolutely hates driving in the dark, especially on roads she’d never been on before so the last four and a half hours were the white-knuckle variety. I’m not sure what that is but I could tell my Mom was pretty stressed. Auntie Cheryl made sure I was comfortable and provided top flight co-pilot support. After nearly 12 hours, we rolled into the hotel parking lot. All three of us were exhausted and we all fell asleep after feeding me, administering my meds and then we all settled in for the night.
The next morning, Mom took me for a short walk around the area. It was cold and grey but at least not snowing. Hallelujah! I found a very cool clump of trees with this funky green stuff on the bark. It didn’t smell like squirrels or bunnies but it fascinated me so much, I kept forgetting to pee. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Well, I’ll be! That seemed surreal, but nothing like what greeted us when we went to the breeder’s farm. We arrived at the appointed time and were greeting by seven boisterous sheepdogs along with various uprights who were picking up their fosters. It was pretty chaotic. Mom knocked on the door and not one of the dogs barked, but greeted her like she was their best friend. Clearly these dogs were very socialized and had been very much loved even if they were all in rough shape coat-wise. They went through the rescue’s procedure of picking the dog each foster would take with them. Before you know it, this monster appeared in the back of our SUV.
He’s not much to look at because he (like all the dogs) were dirty and extremely matted. But he seemed polite, even if he was extra ginormous. Mom thought he weighed around 100 lbs. For a minute I wasn’t sure they were gonna be able to get him in the back, but he seemed nice enough and laid down. He never once uttered a peep then, or on the trip home. We departed as another storm was forecast along the way home and we wanted to get the heck out of Dodge, erm Missouri.
As we drove home, we noticed snow drifts about 3 ft. tall on the side of the road but Mom didn’t stop to photograph them. We were all tired and wanted to get to Colorado as early as possible where we know the highway. The drive home was ‘only’ a little over 8 hours long. Mom said she was never gonna drive almost 1,500 miles in a 24 hour period again, no matter how cute a dog was.
Kansas and Missouri were interesting and it would have been nice to take more pictures of the scenery but judging from the news reports, we got out of town just in time before Winter Storm Finn slammed into the region. Another storm along with an Arctic cold front are arriving now…and as Mom says…of course it is, it’s National Western Stock Show week where the weather always turns icy cold and brutal. The weekend’s highs may reach single digits. Highs, people! Brrr.
There he is after a much needed bath. Egad that boy had some serious stank on him. She and Auntie Cheryl worked for hours removing the worst of the mats but he will need to be shaved down. This boy was named ‘Sam’ and as you can probably guess, that name won’t work for Mom. It reminded her too much of my knuckleheaded brother. She hasn’t decided on a name yet, there’s too much we have to do to get this boy settled so we’ll likely wait until things get ticked off our long list. Sam was screened by the vet, microchipped, vaccinated and tested negative for heartworm (yay). Now begins the process of integrating him into life around the Ranch without his sheepdog pack. He’s seems sweet and is quite the butt wiggler, but he and I have had ‘discussions‘ about the pecking order. He thinks Mom is his but we have to agree to disagree on that topic. He seems afraid of the hustle and bustle of the city, cars wig him out but he walks fairly well on a leash. Good thing too, he’s huge-bigger than Norman. And strong. Mom’s gonna be building some muscles. Now if we can just get him to stop enjoying some of the creature comforts around the Ranch. At least Mom needs to figure out how to get him to sleep the other side of the bed. For me, he just better not try to take over this blog! Mom’s on her own and you can bet your sweet bippy I’m going to remind her of that. Afterall it was her idea to bring this muppet home.
Have you ever fostered a dog? How’d it go? Do you have any tips for my Mom. She seems completely ‘over her skis’ despite her best intentions.
To all you Midwest peeps, do dandelions normally bloom in January?! Have a great weekend and try to stay warm and dry. For the next few days you might want to view Nature from the comfort of your cozy sofa but do keep your eyes open-you just never know what you’ll see. Have a great weekend.
Live, love, bark! 🐾