There is not really much to say here:
About in the middle of setting up today’s post, Renter came over wanting to know what was up with the pasture and what not. I had to explain his wife had pretty well let me know he wasn’t interested in things as they had been agreed upon.
He disclaimed any knowledge of what I told him, and as far as he was concerned the deal was suppose to have been carried out. He then added that his wife was somewhat aggressive and was assertive, and he’d talk to her. That’s two weeks into the season and we both figure on a somewhat dry year and will stick with few calves on the place.
Now I have to hustle to set the trough’s and pumps up, which I stopped worrying about two weeks ago.
GAWD (Great Assed White Dog) died Easter Morning. He was fifteen years old. He will be replaced by another big white puppy, I’m told. Ruby, Renters mom, says she has been losing chickens, ducks and geese to the coyotes. GAWD kept the critters safe and she feels good having the dog around.
I had coyotes around my place almost continually since GAWD got old and the feral cats have been disappearing – my dog is a bit small to turn loose, he’d make a good snack for a coyote.
From the reaches,