Archives for February 2015

I Am Jack—Merry Christmas

Hi! I am Jack!  I am a very good boy.  I am an expert hunter.  I like to fetch the ball, too.

I have to say, my new human PR does some very strange things.

For example,

She went out into the big screened room of our home on wheels, and made a tree with her bare hands that doesn’t look like any tree I’ve ever seen.  She pulled it’s parts out of a big box.  It doesn’t smell like a tree, it doesn’t feel like a tree, and yet it looks just like one.

I think I need to pee on it.  That would maybe help. But every time I go over to it to lift my leg, she SCREAMS at me to get away.

What’s up with THAT?

And then she put all kinds of twinkling lights on it, and put all sorts of small sparkling things in it, and many round colorful things that I think would be fun to fetch or chew. But every time I go over to the tree to take something to play with, she SCREAMS at me to get away.

What’s up with THAT?

And THEN….she put something underneath that strange tree that smells so amazing I can hardly stand it.  I’m not the only one, either, that feels that way.  Those two blonde females are always trying to get under the tree to get to that container with the great smell. Every time we go over to the tree to try to see what it is, she SCREAMS at us to get away.

She yells at me if my tail knocks off the things on that tree.  She yells at me if I try to see what is underneath that tree.  I don’t understand why that darn tree is so special.

And THEN, there’s those big stockings.  They are hanging up high right over my kennel.  JackXmas2014There are some crazy good smells coming from those stockings!  I try to jump up to reach one, and when I do, she SCREAMS at me to get down.

What is this all about, anyway?

So, then she told me I have to sit down and be still.  Right next to the strange tree.  You have no idea how hard this is for me to do.  But, fine.  I’ll do it for her.  She looks at me from behind some black thing, and says “good boy, Jack.”   Well, I know I am a good boy!  I am an amazing hunter, too!  And I am doing my best to behave, not ignore her yelling and just pee on that tree.  Even though I know it needs it!

And THEN, another human comes over and they make me and those blonde hairballs go outside and sit together by some real trees.  How crazy that I have to sit with those two hairball females.  But, it seems so important to my human, so I do it. Christmas2014 She squats down next to me.  The other human is looking at us with that black thing, and she, too says “good boy, Jack, good girls.”

My new human is truly strange.  I never experienced anything like this, actually.  Apparently all this crazy stuff was done so we could say one thing:

Merry Christmas!


You can read all about the adventures me and my new human PR are going to have together in the outdoors… I will write lots of stories under “I AM JACK” in her blog category, “Words From The Wild” I will be careful not to have many typos.  I am a good boy!  Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in our journey together, and PR Brady AdVentures.



One Gypsy’s Life

She is gentle, kind and wise.  She stands proud.  Proud when she is able to stand, that is.  She is often seen lying down alone in the field.  Some times as I am walking or driving by, it seems like she has simply laid down and died.  I wondered why for days until I was told about her feet.

I walk across the field to where she is laying and visit her from time to time.  She always greets me with relief and appreciation. Her spirit is broken, her eyes express the weary, pain filled condition she is stricken with. Dear Gypsy.  If only this beautiful, Cracker mare could tell me stories about her 33 year long life.  Gypsy2Would she tell me stories of passion, romance, adventure and splendor?  I think not.  She is skinny, with ribs showing, her back is swayed, she has double foundered, and her feet ache from years of being an obedient soul, living a life of hard labor, rough treatment, and general neglect.  Years of being a faithful servant, pulling equipment on a farm, and being left in her shoes and in water so long that her coffin bones have completely collapsed.

Not the ideal Gypsy life.

All this misery, and yet she has no ill will.  Looking deep into Gypsy’s eyes I see gratitude.  Gratitude that she was taken away from that harsh place and brought here to rest and be cared for by a remarkable woman like Laney, a caring soul—a medicine woman with the knowledge, compassion and fortitude to make this one Gypsy’s life as comfortable as possible now.  Minimize the pain.  Maximize the love.  If anyone can heal this Gypsy, Laney can.

Gypsy1My heart fills with sadness as I walk up to beautiful Gypsy. I wonder why some people own animals.  How can they be allowed to?  The life of this Gypsy has been long and hard.  Now she is barely able to stand any more, she can’t graze long, or even make it to the water trough. She spends day after day laying in the field, in pain.  Try as she might to help her or heal her, Laney has come to the realization that the damage to Gypsy’s feet is beyond the ability to repair.  The truth cuts like a knife.

What’s most sad is that this didn’t have to happen to Gypsy. Those “other” people who had her all those years could have prevented this horrible condition so easily.  But they didn’t.  When things got bad enough, they simply discarded this noble mare.  And now here Gypsy is, with us, thankful for the love and attention Laney has showered her with.

Laney carries out water and alfalfa to where she is laying down.  Her mane is full of burrs from laying down so much.  Gypsy heaves a heavy sigh as Laney and I stroke her tired face, and work out the knots and burrs from her mane.  Gypsy’s are beautiful and exotic and lively.  This Gypsy’s eyes have become tired and vacant.  She seems to know why we are there, and is accepting her fate with the grace and noble stature few humans could ever possess.  Laney coddles her, brushing her, holding her, whispering sweet things to her.  I struggle to keep from bursting into tears.  I want to find those awful people and hurt them.

A Gypsy horse is a magical being.  Romantic, restless, roaming; forever dancing over the horizon to a new adventure.  This Gypsy will soon be dancing and prancing.  This one Gypsy will finally be able to dance and prance like a pony again.  No more sadness.  No more pain.  Frolicking across endless green pastures, kicking her heels up, celebrating her freedom forever.

The veterinarian’s truck rounds the corner of the field.  He is almost here.  Gypsy3You see, today we must say goodbye to Gypsy as she prances across that Rainbow Bridge to a never ending paradise.

One Gypsy’s Life has not gone unnoticed.

Laid to rest on December 10th, 2014

So grateful she shared her gentle nature with me, taking comfort in knowing she is finally at peace.

Life is an adventure!  Are you waiting for an invitation to experience an amazing life full of adventure, or do you just go make your own?  There are lots of inspirational stories under my blog category, “PRs Amazing Outdoor Adventure Update”.  If you find yourself not doing what you love, I invite you to contact me for help to create your own, amazing adventure.  Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in exploring the possibilities with PR Brady AdVentures.


Tuck Away Home

It’s a beautiful day on the farm.

Each time we venture out to walk around the property we see something amazing.  Turkeys, deer, whistling ducks, and even a mama alligator with her 30 some babies!  The air is cooler than I’d expected—perhaps low 60’s at the peak of the day.  Jeans, and a light long sleeved shirt weather.  But I hear after this “cold snap” temperatures will shoot up to the high 70’s.  Can’t wait for that!

There are no bugs here.  Where are the clouds of no-see-ums?  Where are the swarms of mosquitos and the fleas and the dreaded fire ant mounds?  This place seems to be void of all the truly annoying creature attacks I’d experienced in Florida the past years.  How refreshing!

Today is the day we move my Toy Hauler into its “permanent” location for the season.   As I survey the general area where it will go, my mind lands on one single thought;

“It’s a jungle in there!”

The vines and palmetto and prickly stickly plants and moss and more vines dominate the woods.  I cannot imagine my trailer is going back into all that.  Then Jeff arrives with a tractor.  Jeff is the facility maintenance contractor.  He is a true blue man of the earth rancher; a wealth of information about living the country life in “Old” Florida.  We are introduced, and begin our discussion on where to move my toy hauler.

“Well Miss Patty, I can clear this area over here, and back you in right here at this angle here.”

Never has anyone ever called me ‘Miss Patty’.  I shoot him a quick look to try to see if he is kidding with me.  OMG, he isn’t.  Taken off guard, I can’t seem to reply to his suggestion.

“Or what about over there?  We just want to stay on this side of the ridge, as that’s the edge of the swamp.”

Swamp? An alligator swamp?  I’m still back on ‘Miss Patty’….

“Umm, but how will I be able to get out when it’s time to leave?  It’s awfully thick in there.  I can’t make that corner or back in.  Can you do it?”

“Yes ma’am, I can put this trailer where ever it needs to go.”  Jeff says with conviction. Homestead

I understand the idea for me being back in the woods is to minimize the visual impact of my big Toy Hauler in this pristine pioneer landscape, so we should get me back as far as possible.  But looking at how far back “back” is….is very daunting.  We walk and talk and evaluate further, finally coming to agreement on a relatively level area that is back far enough to not be conspicuous to visitors.

“I’ll get to clearing the space then.” Jeff says, and hops on the tractor.

Jeff is a family man.  He is a hard working rugged man, and an expert land manager.  He knows everything there is to know about how things grow Florida, and how to get rid of them.  And he wears some really cool camo, too.

Wow, talk about clearing a space!  Ripping up the brush and palmettos, grabbing 30 foot long snarled tendrils of vines dangling from high branches or wrapped around trees and brush, Jeff basically stripped the area bare in less than an hour.  I step in to help with nipping the vines off and tossing piles of sharp, prickly foliage into the thick woods.

“Before we get too far along, we should check to make sure “the boss” is in agreement with our direction .” I advise.

“Yes, Miss Patty, we’ll have Miss Laney take a look.”  He responds.

Homestead3Sure enough, we were on track but not quite there with our vision.  The remainder of the day is spent fine tuning where to place the Toy Hauler.  Back and forth, back and forth, inching along to try to position the 28 foot dwelling in just the right spot so it’s hidden, and the porch can also be utilized.  The ideal location caused the back end to be perched precariously over a giant crevasse in the dirt.  I envisioned sitting on the porch some evening, only to have it suddenly drop down into the pit.   Jeff worked diligently to try to fill that hole so we could set the trailer in front of it without risk of the weight of the trailer sinking into the ground.  Last thing I need is my trailer to collapse into a giant hole.

Next we tried to back the trailer up on boards.  Back and forth, back and forth, trying to center the tires onto the 2 x 4 planks, but my boards were too short and narrow and immediately sunk into the soft ground.  One even snapped off as he got the 2nd wheel onto it.  Laney stepped in to help thrust 2 and 3 foot long boards under wheels as Jeff inched the trailer along with the tractor, but we quickly ran out of boards and couldn’t get the Toy Hauler close to leveled.

“I can bring a load of mulch tomorrow to fill the area and help with leveling, Miss Patty, but you may want to get you some 2 x 6 x 10’s and we can cut them down to pull those wheels up on.”

Sounds good.  Jeff hops on the tractor and drives away from our hard work.  I stand and watch him slowly disappear around the palmettos.  I turn and admire the hard work of the day.  What a day.  I walk over to the event parking area, back away and off to the left, then to the far right, realizing that no matter what position you look from, Homestead1you can barely see my “tuck away home” in the woods.  We are well hidden, indeed.  I find myself wondering where the heck all the “Minnesota Jeff’s” have been hiding all my life.  Wow, what a guy!

So after a long day of carving out a space for my home on wheels, “Miss Patty” is one day away from being ready to settle in.

How I love this place already!

Life is an adventure!  Are you waiting for an invitation to experience an amazing life full of adventure, or do you just go make your own?  There are lots of inspirational stories under my blog category, “PRs Amazing Outdoor Adventure Update”.  If you find yourself not doing what you love, I invite you to contact me for help to create your own, amazing adventure.  Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in exploring the possibilities with PR Brady AdVentures.