ride and wine

Here for the ride… and the wine!

This is my quote for 2019.

I toyed around with several different words, all of which were pretty awesome, but I landed on this phrase after some new and exciting opportunities came my way at the beginning of January.

I have no idea what 2019 is bringing but…. come on! I’m here for the ride. I’m here to see where God leads and when I don’t overthink things what could happen? When I resolve to just show up each and every day and choose joy and pray for patience and just seek to be the best version of me, what opportunities and faith steps and awesomeness can come from it?

“Here for the ride” is kinda scary, which is also why I will also be here for the wine. I’m dedicated to indulging in some nice wine this year (read: spending more than $2.99 on Winking Owl from Aldi) and just sitting back, sipping on some Savignon Blanc and just enjoying/handling/praying through/laughing/crying all that life brings this year. Cheers!!

So, with that being said….. January has been a series of unfortunate events for the Stanesic livestock/animals. We are here for the ride with these guys. We don’t know day to day what we’re waking up to out here.

1: Regis’ hooves

Regis has been limping for about a month now. We’ve had the farrier out several times and we’re monitoring it, but I am legit losing sleep over this, y’all.

We all know he’s a bit of a diva, so who even knows how serious this hoof thing is. We don’t know how much is drama and how much is real…. Like I said, we’re monitoring it. Did you know there is an “abscess season” for equine?

Me either. What the actual heck.

Since we bought Regis for $100 on Craig’s List, our knowledge of his former days are limited at best. We know two things about the little guy:

1: He was obtained by the man we bought him from in a barter deal with a petting zoo. (awwwwww, REGIS!!!)

2: He gets crazy aggressive if there are any jenny’s (female donkeys) in his life. (read: fighting all the other jacks.)

**insert eyeroll here**

I swear to God if something happens to that donkey you will absolutely need to lock me up because he is my little buddy.

Even though he kind of hates me right now.

Since I’m the one who is always here when the farrier comes to work on him, I think he’s associating me with hoof care, which he ain’t too fond of.

He’s been punishing me, y’all.

When I come to bring him his carrots, grain or hay, he’s all buddy-buddy with me. But then when I go in for the pet/snuggle he glares at me and keeps backing away just enough to be out of reach.

Regis. I can’t even. LOVE ME AGAIN!!!!! I’m obsessed with you, and I need you to be obnoxiously co-dependent on me like you used to be.

Don’t even worry that I sat in the pasture and SANG TO HIM to try and win him back. It worked for about 5 minutes. But once I was done singing he was over me again.

Oh, the humanity.

2: Silkie

I need to introduce everyone to our newest member of “The Coop”, Mr. Silkie. Silkie was given to us by a friend from my MOMS group. He came to us well cared for, and extremely docile and sweet. One would never know he was a rooster!

Fast forward several weeks…..

Silkie is still extremely well cared for, but his demeanor has done a 180!!! That little man is savage. He chases me and the boys around the yard and went so far as to actually knock poor Bob over!

I mean seriously?! Bob is the most amiable, likeable person in this family! Come on!

Silkie and I have gone toe to toe a few times now and he has been threatened with the grill multiple times a day. However, he has his redeeming qualities. Which are as follows:

1: The hens are laying like crazy! Having a man around has been amazing for egg production!

2: He’s the only known being that Tina obeys. And y’all know Tina…

3: He’s a ton of comic relief for the most part.

Again, the grill is not off the table, folks. Stay tuned.

3: Nosha, the newest feral cat

That’s right, this brings the feral cat count up to FOUR. Seriously, how did we become a cat people? The bag of food we use for them says “for multi-cat households”.

Shoot. This is us.

Nosha is actually who I wanted to spend the bulk of this post talking about. I don’t have any pictures of him, because they are all too sad, and to post them would feel like blindsiding you, and would feel unfair to him.

Nosha showed up to our house to feast on the multi-cat food a couple months ago. We had some people over, and someone noticed he had strings attached to his neck and leg. We tried to go out and catch him, but he darted away.

I couldn’t get him out of my mind since.

Fast forward to about a month ago. My mom had been babysitting the boys and when I got home she asked about the poor cat.

A little background on Deb Chisholm: she’s an animal lover. She volunteers at an animal shelter (pretty much full time) and lives to help abused, discarded and hurt animals. It’s her passion.

Mom wasted no time and brought over a feral cat trap and thus began day after day, night after night, attempting to catch Nosha (who was still just referred to as: “the cat” at this point). He would sniff AROUND the trap, but never enter in.

The strings around his neck and leg just got tighter and tighter. Eventually he was just hopping around on three legs (we have experience with tri-pawds. Our dog Bianca has 3 legs and is deaf.) The string around his neck had made such deep lacerations that you couldn’t even see the string anymore, and blood was shining in his neck fur. It was gut wrenching.

At the beginning, if we locked eyes as he was sharing Madeleine’s (our first (and favorite) cat) food, he would dart off and we wouldn’t see him for days. But gradually he began to trust more and more, until last night when I went out to feed them he let me get within about a foot of him before he hopped off into a nearby bush to wait for me to go back inside. He’s also been staying on our porch all night and even sticking around for most of the morning (he used to just eat and run, the little free-loader).

Last night was when I just lost it. I could see his neck looked like ground beef and I was determined to catch him. After working with some tilapia (makes these cats lose their minds!), a kennel, and the trap, he FINALLY was caught. HUZZAH!!

I was relieved. It was an answer to prayer, for real. However, I was sick to my stomach. I knew that he was now on the road to get help, but as he was thrashing around in the trap, hissing up at me I saw the look of sheer terror and fear in his eyes. I can’t get his little expression out of my head, y’all. I kept talking to him and explaining that now we had caught him, he’d be going to the vet to get worked on and nursed back to health, but all he heard was “wah wah wah”. He was scared and trapped and couldn’t see the big picture (because well.. he’s a cat. And he had no clue what the huge red headed woman was saying).

I think you know where I’m going with this. Nosha has been WRECKING me, y’all.

He was clearly abused and mistreated by whoever tied those horrible strings around him. He stumbled upon a household (the good ol’ Stanesics) who are bleeding hearts for hurting animals, but he evaded our attempts to trap him. He didn’t trust or know that we wanted to help. There was a better way, he just didn’t know it.

Nosha had to sit in a cat trap for 14 hours, then went to a vet where he was put under so he could be operated on, stitched up and given medicine. He was sedated and brought back here to a home who cares about him and wants what is best (hats off to mom for taking her entire day to run all over the metroplex getting him all taken care of. The woman has a heart of gold).

What “best” looks like is 10-14 days in a kennel out in our shed where it’s warm and quiet and sterile. Where he can slowly heal back up and be released back out and roam as he pleases (hopefully setting up permanent camp here on our back porch with Madeleine, Donnie and Marie).

All this to say….. It makes me think about my own life.

How many times do I choose things that are unhealthy or bad for me and just continue to do them, knowing there’s a better way? I sit in my unhealthy habits or behaviors and am content to live in apathy.

All the while I know I need to work to get better or change something and I know it will be uncomfortable, or even painful for a time, but eventually I will be strong and ready to take on the world again.

I see God so much out here in the country. He makes Himself known through nature and through the animals.

I don’t trust him like I know I should. I think I have better plans for myself and I think that I can do things on my own. Only to be tied in bondage and gasping for air.

I’m here for the ride this year. Wherever God feels like taking me. I’m trusting and working on having crazy faith and knowing that God knows what’s best for me. Nosha will be my reminder that there is a better way if I can just trust the process and enjoy the journey.

I’ll keep y’all updated on Nosha, and hopefully post a few pictures when they are more uplifting to look at. He’s a handsome fella.

I knew I wanted to name him something to do with “rescued”, “delivered” or “saved”. My dad is a Hebrew professor, so I asked him what a good Hebrew word would be. So there you have it.

Nosha. “Rescued”.

He was rescued and he is loved.

Just like me and you.

Cheers.