This morning both Lucy and Jackson were much improved. Lucy came trotting to the gate for her morning bucket of vitamins, floating across the pasture in fine princess style. I could watch her trot all day. Jackson wasn't trotting but he wasn't doing a bad imitation of a canter pirouette anymore either. He was walking pretty well; well enough that I took off his boot and skipped the bute.
He looked pretty bad yesterday:
Brett and I decided to check out a couple of wineries after running chores this morning. We love the small boutique wineries, run by passionate people who aren't in it to sell truckloads of wine. The first winery we went to was recommended to us by friends. We spent a long time there, talking, tasting, and learning about his wines. They were excellent.
After a pizza lunch on the creek in Sutter Creek, we went to the next winery. The owner-winemaker had turned his garage into a tasting room. He looked like John Denver; he had that same goofy intensity and big grin, and his name is the same as Brett's oldest grandson. We won't forget him -- or his wines; big and jammy without being sweet.
Last we went to a small winery, turning off a back road onto a narrow gravel road. The tasting room was deserted. Rusty vehicles and weeds covered the property. As we were turning to leave, the owner ran into the barn and poured us a glass of zinfandel. Bleh.
We got home and started on chores. Brett killed weeds in my garden while I put fresh shavings in the chickens' laying boxes. I noticed one of the chickens up on the ladder roost, covered in blood from a wound on her neck. This happened earlier this month and she healed; it looks like she is being tormented again. We've had hens peck at each others' backs before, but never a neck wound like this. Do any of you chicken owners out there have a guess? Could it be a rooster? I set her up in a dog crate and then we fed the horses and mucked the pastures.
Lucy and Pistol eat their hay from their hay feeder.
Jackson eats his a small distance away.
Tonight Passage was in their pasture. See her to the left of Jackson?
She's guarding a gopher hole.
That cat is worth her weight in gold.
Wait! You forgot us! (nice try boys).