The last two mornings as I directed the puppies out the back door for breakfast I have encountered gentle early morning (pre-dawn really) rain.  When you have six dogs, which no one should ever have, feeding them is a little challenging.  We learned the hard way that each dog should have its own dish and spot to eat.

Jon Katz, blog writer, author of many dog books suggests having each dog sit at their designated bowl then feeding them in the same order each day.

This method has been pretty successful.  But it requires that all the dogs eat outside.  It is difficult to implement on a rainy morning.  With gentle rain, when it is warm, the dogs just get a little wet (and muddy). Not ideal but far better then moving all the dishes and dogs inside.

Next in the feeding rotation are the horses.  The rain caught me unexpectedly Wednesday morning.  I had put Mickey, Feather and Mimi out the night before.  Mickey was totally dry and secure, alone, in the run-in shed.  What a surprise! The girls were soaked and standing woe begotten in the dim fog.  Getting them into their stalls resulted in some pretty muddy pj’s for me. Of course, I go out and feed in my pjs.  Why would I waste time getting dressed only to shower and redress for work?

We make the feed for the horse’s dinner and next morning’s breakfast the day before.  Each horse has their own color feed bowl and gets a unique meal.  Feather is pink and Bru is black. Surprising choices, I know.  Lauren will be out by 7:00 or so to water and hay.

The final “Cindy” chore is feeding the cats.  One can of canned food is split amongst whatever cats show up for breakfast. Then I head in to get ready for my day.  It is about 4:30 am by this point.

When the fog and rain surround the farm, I feel protected and safe.  It is like we are in our own safe little world. Yesterday morning Gordan Lightfoot’s (I realize probably 85 percent of you have no idea who I am talking about) old song, ‘Early Morning Rain’ popped into my head.

So I best be on my way

in the early morning rain

It was a good memory of my younger days.

Jim, this morning in his hospital bed.

Jim is my step-father.  He and my mother have been married almost 16 years.  He just had brain surgery to stop a bleed from a fall earlier this week.  It is a tough thing.  And it is something I know a little bit about.  My father, years ago, fell, fractured his skull and required surgery.  I know there is very little worse than waiting as your father is in surgery or watching him in the subsequent days for little signs.  Is he alert?  Is he oriented to what is going on? 

My heart goes out to Jim and his family.  Jay has been with him and his daughter Janie will arrive later today.  It is so hard to watch this type of recovery because when dealing with the brain, of course, so much can go wrong.  Today Jim is getting a blood transfusion and continuing his speech and physical therapy. Jay says he seems to be a little restless but taking in all that is going on. We are hoping he can be moved to an inpatient rehab hospital later next week but hours and days go by slowly as the brain heals.  My father was in neuro-ICU for 90 days.  It was like a lifetime.

We hadn’t told mom about Jim.  Not knowing what possible good that could come of it.  But yesterday when we visited with Jordyn, the bright five year-old launched into a complete update on her GG (great-grandpa) Jim.  She told her granny-nanny that Jim fell down, and he had to have surgery on his brain.  Mom did not seem to really grasp what Jo was saying.  She just got a distant look in her eyes and said, “you know I love that man”.  I guess that is the best gift we can give Jim right now-love and prayers.  We are sending them out in bunches.