I would like it to be known that I am not receiving my full quota of attention from the woman. What with planning the rescue of another donkey and the time she devotes to TJ, I am simply not getting enough of what is currently called "face time". I don't like it.
Today was actually sunny and we were able to warm up somewhat in front of the barn. The snow is so deep that we stay in that area, which is more navigable for short legs, but which allows TJ easier access for tormenting me. I got him in a scruff-of-the-neck hold this morning and he squealed like an angry pig. Ironic, as he is constantly using that hold on me and I remain stoically silent.
The snow is so deep in the fields that our resident wolf has been using the farm lane behind the barn for commuting. He's been with us for a few years and makes his home in the wooded valley at one end of our property. I am generally extremely anti-canine but he and I have agreed to ignore each other (I have the same arrangement with the house canine). He is very large and has a huge coat and bushy tail. His footprints are the same size as the woman's, she takes a size 6 but I don't know what that is in wolf.
He's extremely preoccupied - with what we don't know - and trots along, oblivious to his surroundings. Molly and the woman have surprised him several times while out riding. When he finally notices them, he gasps with surprise and does an excellent side-pass before tearing off into the woods. The humans have also surprised him when walking our own canine and she woofs at him and then hides behind the humans' legs. I can empathize with him as he seems to be a contemplative, reclusive bachelor who wants to be left to his own thoughts.
We don't have a photo of him as he moves too fast but the woman is putting a photo of our own canine on here. Like TJ, she is also a rescue case. She was a young single mother of six who was abandoned in Ohio in the middle of winter. A kind lady took her in, found homes for her offspring and taught her things like how to climb stairs (she hadn't lived inside before). My humans offered her a home and here she is two years later. Of course, SHE gets to live in the house...I'll say no more on that front as emotions run high (well, mine do - the humans won't even discuss it). Her name is Penny and her ancestry is a complete mystery. I suspect she crawled out of a canine spare parts bin.