Things have fallen to a whole new level of shoddiness and neglect around here. Herself just gets back from gallivanting and off she goes again. This time she returned with some human friend she has know since her childhood or "the year dot" as Jack calls it. Our chores were done and we were fed, yes, but the level of attention was not even the minimum of what we have come to expect. I just don't know where to turn.
Said human friend hails from somewhere called the West Coast, where life is a round of balmy weather and fruit drinks and where my friend Red the horse shares her life. I spied on her, or rather, observered her closely from behind a fence post while she was trying to read on the lawn but she said she could see the tips of my ears and my waistline on either side of the post. These days nothing seems to go as planned.
This human also expressed a desire for an earth-shattering thunder storm, with light show, as she has not seem one in years. She must have powerful connections because not five minutes after her arrival, the skies opened, we were blinded by laser bolts and the rain came down in sheets. Very gothic and quite satisfying to watch from the comfort of our rooms. There was a loud kerrrrrack mid-storm and daylight revealed half of a large tree sprawled in the front paddock, the fence and a dish thing on a pole taken down in the fury. For two days all that lay between us and complete freedom was the stinging wire in the middle of the paddock. Molly gamely tried to take it down but even her well-insulated muzzle wasn't up to the task. Her whiskers are somewhat charred but she's already busy growing new ones.
Today some officious humans arrived and carved up the tree and unfortunately also replaced the broken post and rails. We supervised as best we could but proper hoofs-on supervision is difficult from the wrong side of the dastardly wire. The woman took photos of the after-storm carnage but of course now her pea brain has misplaced the camera. I may have to draw what I saw.