So I found out that if Maggie had to survive in the woods among a pack of wild dogs, and her life depended on how fast she could finish off a kill, bones and all, she would probably be the chubbiest of the bunch.
I bought her a HUGE bone when we went to the Tractor Supply store to get wire for the fence.
It was a real monster. She polished off about half of it, and I do mean polished. Ingested. Which is probably not a good thing. I am keeping an eye on her, but man, it's crazy that she can even do that. I had no idea that she could pulverize something that quickly. So far she seems none the worse for it.
The wire is going up and the gates are done.
I was going to do the wire, but apparently that is a skill that has been lost somewhere between living on the farm, and living in suburbia.
I had the wire, the staples, the hammer, and it seemed like no problem to start stretching the wire and tacking it to the rails.
I couldn't get anything to work right.
I can't hold the staples and hit anything but my fingers. I can't hold the staples at all! I don't know what I've lost, vision, eye-hand coordination, strength, or a combination of all of that, but whatever it is, it's gone. It's a tough deal when you realize that you really can't do something that you used to do so easily. Tough.
John was very sweet about it though. He said "Well, you are great at making dinner, and lots of other things."
I guess in the scheme of things, not being able to hammer staples into rails is probably not a skill I would need that often anyway. Still....
