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Blogs by m j . hollingshead
Atop My Hill 2/9/2005 2:44:36 AM
Life moves on It is cold this morning. Not just cold, it is downright freezly. The chill bites right through our clothes and snips at our cheeks.
The horses stand blowing little puffs of frosty air as they wait for their grain. Thank goodness their hair has grown out and they are not so cold as we. They look more like tall shaggy dogs than sleek quarterhorses at the moment.
Peggy is dug down deep into the hay in the barn. She doesn't come out to greet or otherwise acknowledge us. Maggie May, Miss Minnie and old Thor are wrapped into a furry canine heap in the dog house.
How Mel laughed when we first moved to this place nine years ago. At that time our strays were Saddie, her daughter Baby Sade, Thor and Maudie. Each of those clowns was young, full of life and eager to get out and explore this new place where we had brought them. The Highway out front was so enticing. Fast moving pick ups and loud honking convinced Mel and I that we really needed to get a dog yard in place quickly. The dogs each sat at the end of a chain, looked at us reproachfully and gazed wistfully down the lane toward that siren song highway.
With the dog run in place... fencing set around a portion of the hay barn and extending into the shaded, grassy area beyond we introduced the pups to their home. They accepted it, although wistful glances continued to be cast down toward the highway or south toward the neighbor's pasture.
What to do for a dog house was quickly resolved with a visit to the neighbor's Junk shop. Here in this part of the country a whole new industry has appeared. Various shop keepers, the neighbor for years maintained two gas pumps and a little convenience store, have turned their attention to the 'truck load' store concept. A truck load of something is delivered to their location on an ongoing basis. The load is sold by dollar not by content: one time the load may be filled with garden hoses, rocking chairs and windows. Next time the doors may open upon gazebos for the yard, suitcases and toilets.
One particular load for the neighbor held among other things several fiberglass shower/tub all-in-one for the bathroom.
Mel and the neighbor saw a shower/tub, I saw a dog house.
Set the thing on its side, bolster sides with bales of hay, lay a couple of planks over the top for the dogs to sit on and WOOO HOOOO a doghouse/observation deck is born. And so it was.
The dogs have used that doghouse for years, what was once a flat twist of soil below the covering has been dug down over the years until it could now accomodate a small elephant along with the dogs. Each autumn Mel brings out two older bales of hay, separates them and tosses into the den. The dogs immediately rush in, claim a spot and tromp, whirl and roll it into their liking.
Over the years the house has been home to the four fur folk we brought with us, and to Gertie and her two kids; Cimmy and Midge who appeared out on the highway not long after we came to live in the rock house on the hill. Gertie and Midgee were obviously bagelish folks, Cim's dad was apparently a traveling man. Hildy, a shy lab mix gal joined us the following spring. Thor is the last of his original pack. The dog run grass was growing taller from not being walked or played on. The dog house was all but empty.
Thor, the wolf Akita mix I found eating road kill when a toothless pup was feeling a mite lonely when Maggie May stumbled out on the highway last fall, right behind her came Miss Minnie strolling into the yard. And now, the grass is again worn down from the play of fur folk. The burrow below the observation deck is again filled with a furry canine heap when the weather is cold. And the deck is a flutter of activity whenever anyone drives into the lane.
I see the iris are sending up new shoots, a hyacinth nose is visible here and there in the garden bed and crocus are standing 6" green stalwarts.
