A what?

The mini-handlers are on the farm for the holidays. I always love when they come. Extra hands to stroke me.

But in fact with this heat wave we're having, I don't want to be stroked. So they go do their thing and I do mine...which is usually lay on Female Handlers desk making sure she doesn't go off again for long periods of time.

What everyone failed to discuss with me was the arrival of a miniature deer brought over from Buenos Aires by mini-Female Handler. Ok, it's not a deer, it's a dog. A dog that I can pretty much put to shame with one hiss and a swipe of my razor sharp claws...but never-the-less a dog that can command attention away from me. The family took the dog to the beach yesterday.

Hello, did anyone ask me if I wanted to go?!?

Christmas Dinner

Asado goat or as they say in other parts of the world, goats on the barbie

Ice coffee for dessert

I did get a week's worth of bones out of this dinner so I can't complain!

In loving memory...

November 28, 1938 - November 1, 2013

An explosion

We had an explosion...

We're dealing with it pretty well...but it has required the Handlers to seriously get a move on.

The explosion is called growth, and the reason is because spring has finally arrived.

Gone are their lazy weekends and evenings. Now it seems that every walking hour is spent trying to stay one step ahead of the growth such that it doesn't overtake them. They have already failed miserably at this.

For me personally, it means having to remind them that the food dish needs to be refilled because they are easily distracted. My preference is ... every hour...but even I understand this may be excessive. I have been known to do a freak out when I see too much emptiness in the dish. So it's a matter of reminding the Handlers of their priorities. Attention to my food dish SHOULD be their highest priority.

A sampling of the growth...

Happy Birthday Shawn!

Feelin' Groovy!!

These two found Shawn's mom's stash of yarn and embroidery floss and decided it was time to add some bling to their normal 1972 attire. Pompom earrings, pompom rings, macrame belt, a leather fringe tassel bag, a yarn boa, and Peace.

They were HOT!

Clearly they missed their calling on the runways of NY and Paris as only the population of Northeast Thailand was subjected to these twelve year old trend setters. And today you'll find these two wearing....pretty much the same stuff they were wearing in 1972, minus the pompom earrings. They'd probably wear the pompom earrings if they could figure out a way to stop them from bouncing off their faces as they walked....

Happy Birthday Shawn, You Trendsetter!

So what became of the fox?

Inquiring minds...

No, the handlers didn't eat the fox, and nor did they serve it to us. The point of collecting a road kill fox was to gain more experience skinning prior to the next winter's slaughtering.

Huge time sink though because Male Handler doesn't like to rush things. Given that he had a couple of cold weekends, he started on the fleshing. He kept the mask, suggesting that when it's all done and cured, Female Handler can wear it into town on her head. "This sort of head wear will become all the rage," he said.

Uh huh.

Anyway, here is a picture of what it looked like just before it was rolled up and put in the freezer for storage until April/May when he can finish it up and smoke it. There's quite a lot of interesting things in their freezer.

There is currently a white plastic bag stuck in the mask, hence...the white eyes

Spring

Keika still has dubs on the sunspots.

"What did you think of the storm?"

The big question around these parts is "what did you think of the storm?"

It was a doozy. I did venture out a couple of times over the 4 day period (Thursday to Tuesday), but the horizontal driving rain coming from the south (Antarctica) was BRUTAL. Most of the time I just crossed my paws and held it. I hate holding it...

A summary of the events:
- an extratropical cyclone hit Uruguay last weekend.
- preliminary estimates indicate that at least 30,000 sheep (mostly ewes and lambs) perished in the floods. Given that there are 8 million sheep in Uruguay (3.4 million people, by the way), that's not a big dent, but what a way to die. They had been shorn just a week or two earlier so no protection from the cold and the little lambs couldn't deal with the rising fast moving water.
- the Uruguayan National Directorate of Meteorology, the "leading institution in climatological matters," has been on strike for 6 months now (demanding better pay and improved working conditions. Uruguayans typically HATE to go out in the rain...). But no biggie that Uruguay wasn't reporting, as the farmers use MetSul out of Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil anyway (as do surfers and tourism operators). MetSul was reporting that this was going to be a doozy. For reasons not yet clear, the farmers didn't heed the warnings. Apparently after the skies cleared this week and the damage assessed, President "Pepe" gave the farmers a dressing down for failing to learn from climate trends and past experiences of weather vagaries, and not making adequate contingency plans. We had heeded. The goats were on higher pastures but unfortunately no way to stop the blinding cold rain. Adequate food for milkings had been collected in advance thanks to Male Handler. Nights were tough on goats but they seemed to understand that it was a temporary situation outside of the Handlers control.
- we got 150mm of rain in the rain gauge (thank you mini-male handler),  not counting for the horizontal flow.
- the iron hardware holding up the gate to the orchard gave way, and the heavy gate fell down.
- the power went out several times but never for more than a couple of hours.
- the farm is fortunate to be situated at the top of a hill (yes, it does have a whole house surge protector) so no flooding.

According to the calendar, it is spring. I'm thinking someone forgot to inform Old Man Winter as we had frost on the ground on the first day of Spring.

Tomorrow is another day.

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore...

Today Male Handler (MH) rode his bike to the nearby milk shed (called Griegos, because the owners family came from Greece way back when...) to pick up a round of cheese. 8.5kg worth of cheese (18.7lbs) for Uy1,060 pesos (US$48). The handlers were running low as the last round was bought in July.

Mari and Asuncion, the proprietors, wanted to know why Female Handler (FH) never road the bike to get cheese. Well, the handlers have ONE bike, and FH was consumed with another task, but she did send good wishes and hoped that they were conveyed.

Anyway...that's not what this story is about. Just before turning into Griegos, MH spotted road kill on the side of the road. He was pretty certain it was fresh and it was a fox.

Given his recent challenge skinning, he was keen to try it again.

Thankfully first he brought the cheese home. Had a cup of coffee....thought about how strange it might be to pick up road kill in an area where he knew the neighbors (it's one thing when you're a complete outsider and you can remain anonymous, but when everyone knows you're slightly eccentric, this only adds fuel to that image if caught putting a fox in your backpack and quickly peddling back up the hill).

He waited about 40 minutes until he thought that at least the milk shed would be shut tight until the evening hours...and then he left on a mission.

Three cars passed him while curling the fox into the backpack.  Probably Argentinians anyway...

After arriving home, the fox went into the refrigerator. Double bagged. ...to be dealt with after lunch.

After lunch, the skinning task began....but time was short, so was again bagged and stuck back into the refrigerator. This time three bags because things were getting ripe.

What is humorous is that after all that...MH was grossed out with finding two ticks on the fox. MH hates ticks. He really hates ticks. But he gutted a fox, and really WHAT does he expect to find from a wild animal in early Spring. Apparently not two ticks!

I've got my own red meat

Not to be outdone by the Handlers, but after watching last Sunday’s full day of carcass dismantling, I have been busy this week with my own Tucu Tucu population control. It just seriously wipes me out because like the Handlers, I waste absolutely nothing.

But…secretly I’m just stretching so I can poke Keika because …

…just because…

…I can.

25 meters long!

Did you know that a goat’s small intestine is 25 meters (82ft) long?

Male Handler (MH) was considering using it as sausage casing, but has decided instead to mix it into laap (a Thai and Laotian recipe).

While hearing all the minute details of Tontin’s anatomy, dissection, and subsequent meals over Skype the other day, I overheard mini-Female Handler saying “Mama don’t ask me how I know this but for those people allergic to latex, goat intestines are the alternative material of choice for condoms.”

Uh…ok.

Thank You Tontin

October 16, 2011 - August 18, 2013

A note to MH

Dearest Male Handler,

I miss you. I miss your slaps on my backside. I miss our constant banter. I miss snuggling on your lap.

If I should meet an early demise, I just want to state for the record that I did not eat all the Maria cookies. She's going to blame me like she always does, but IT WASN'T ME!

Love,
Ricky