Just 'Cause It's Spring

I was just thinking of all the babies that have crossed my life:  bunnies, chicks, ducklings, piglets, calves, lambie-pies, kids of the pigmy goat variety, puppies, kitties, kidlets.  Julie and Tim are getting a little bit of joy, posing as a tiny furball, fueled by kisses and snuggles, a little-bitty lovey puppy.  I am so jealous.

I'd think about it more, but Obi wouldn't tolerate it.  He's been known to bat things around the house that really shouldn't be batted.

Tim, our ex-corrections officer, is particularly a soft touch.  I expect him to go down in a whoosh.  Julie will be steady and patient in teaching little Bear where he can pee and where he can't, what he can gnaw on and and what's off limits. One lucky puppy.

I grew up on a farm, and that 40-acres attracted animals like sun to daffies.  Everybody wandered through.  My brother and I watered the calves when we were in elementary school.  We'd load up the buckets and then slosh the water around the corner to the water pans.  They would drink so much they resembled little hide-bound barrels.  I must have thought they were very thirsty,  but I'm guessing now that they just liked the attention from other living things.  We'd pet the calves and play with them, they would suck on our fingers (it was the way we taught them how to find the water pans).

They were always ready for a love, a pat, a kiss on the top of their heads.  Makes you wonder how they see people, little people.

We raised a little lamb—in the house, for a couple of weeks.  It was born in early February, so it was still freezing out at nights, hence the baby in the house.  Needless to say it was really socialized and played with us as much as we played with it.  It was really happy to escape it's box and the house it was in when it got old enough to have it's own pen.  My brother teased it unmercifully, and that didn't have a good outcome.  We let it out to play one day, and intent on revenge, our sheep chased my brother to our house, a football field-length of beating feet,  promising mayhem.

You gotta be good to everybody.