Robin's Nest

 As I type this entry into the blog, the cream churns in the mixer. Butter is in the making. I recall some years ago, a small one throwing black beans into the mixer as the cream was being churned. That should have been a sign, lol she has been mischievous ever since! Her sense of humor is as vibrant as her fits of anger. She is 10 now, her mental age is about 8, her emotional age about 5 or 6. I will never forget the words of the therapists on our first visit last March, in unison they looked at each other and said "FASD", not so much to me, but to each other. I was bewildered. The acronym did not ring any bells. I looked at the two as if they had just landed on Earth from, perhaps, Mars? I asked, what does that even mean? As soon as I had, I had wished I hadn't. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Disorder. Yes, now the acronym popped back in my head. I had heard of this, but only bits and pieces, I didn't know of any cases. Well, at least I hadn't. Working with the current ...

 It has been proven over and over that Bella, the female of the two bigger dogs, is the smarter one. At least to me it has. She can get out of any container I come up with, she opens doors and climbs fences, you name it she can figure it out. Today, I was out riding bicycles with the youngest, she climbed the fence to join us and then jetted out into the road. A dump truck was coming from the west and she was ahead of it but not by much. They stopped and she approached and barked and then ran back to the house. The bad part was that we tried to call her to stop running toward the road. She did not stop, there was a hare, and it was to be hers, or so she thought. She did not come back with it if she did catch it. She drives me crazy with her energy and her spunk. I sent her down into the basement with the other two little dogs while I called the biggest dog into the house. I had let him out to run a bit, he will not leave without his partner in crime. More acreage in my mind, would ...