Roscoe the Fat and Etc

Roscoe is getting fat.  I don't know how. We have placed him on half rations and hid the dog food bag.  He likes to break into the compost bin and rummage for goodies, and in a pinch, he will also steal the chicken's food, or Ella's.  He's been sitting under the table at night with soulful brown eyes pleading for a nibble.  But his ribs have long since disappeared and his daily walk doesn't seem to be helping any.  The vet told me to try and keep him lean to protect his joints, but he just really wants to be a fat dog.  It makes him happy.  I tried to reason with him but he doesn't like to talk about it.  He simply looks at me reproachfully and turns his face away, so I am left viewing his expansive rear end.

Roscoe the fat

Our chickens have started gradually laying a few eggs again after free loading during the winter.  I started making threats to them about the stew pot so they appear to have had a chicken meeting and drew straws to set up a rotation to deliver just enough eggs to stave off becoming dinner.  Chloe's chicken wasn't a part of the meeting.  She's the queen after all, and has a very dedicated advocate.  She may live forever, free loading the whole way.

We found out on Valentine's Day that the little girl we have been pursuing in adoption has already been spoken for.  We didn't know her yet and we only had one little picture and a description, but still, we had been praying for her since August and imagining her as a part of our family.  We are so grateful though, that she has a forever family, but there is still a sense of loss.  I spent the weekend growling like a momma bear awakened early from a winter nap as I sorted through emotions.  We feel somewhat adrift because we thought we were heading somewhere specific, and now we've been redirected but we're not sure where that leads.