My new-bestest-friend-forever, Snow, is quarantining with Alfie. Not because they are isolating from the virus but because the remainder of the pack are likely to be too rambunctious for a little puppy.
Snow is one incredibly lucky pup. About seven weeks old and covered in fleas, mites, and ticks, she was tossed over a fence in a sealed feed bag. Fortunately, she landed in the laneway of my friend, Susie, and later that day the gardener heard crying as he was clearing fallen branches. An expensive visit to the vet later and “Ta Da” here she is with yours truly having a toweled cuddle, after her first bath. She is the teeniest little thing and likely heading to the UK to be adopted (don’t ask how many pups Susie has already rescued here!).
Cruel, to have tossed her over the fence? Yes, and, as with most things in life, poverty is a complicated story. I’m not defending whomever it was that tossed her into the yard but I would guess a number of things: a) that Susie’s yard was chosen as she already has 10 dogs (the tosser may have known that), thus clear evidence of an animal lover; b) Snow is so skinny with a fat belly, which may suggest malnourishment and others’ inability to feed her; and c) Snow’s multitude of infestations suggest overcrowding with other animals in her previous home.
Tourism is the economic backbone of this country. The number of visitors is waaaayyyy down and many, many people are now out of work, even of the subsistence variety. Surviving a hurricane in July, and earlier another wicked, surprise storm in June, plus the two-week ash fallout of a neighbouring island’s volcanic eruption in April will have led to much deprivation, exhaustion, loss of crops, loss of power, etc., such that one more animal to feed was just too much to bear.
The shelters are full. A local group organized The Barbados Ruffuggie Project and airlifted 200 dogs and 30 cats to foster homes in Eastern Ontario in late May and already the shelters are filled to capacity again. I could go on. Let’s just hope that Susie finds a home for Snow, whether here or overseas. She is such an adorable little girl and was so grateful for our attention.
Meantime, on the farm we have many more littles to enjoy, including these 30 young chicks who will soon be free-range egg layers and the objects of lust of the multitude of roosters who patrol the yard.
The substantially bigger delight is Sista Dini’s latest foal, who responded with leaps, bounds, and charges when we approached him in the big paddock after dinner. Perhaps he thinks he is a dog!
Paler than most of the other foals I have known, he could turn out to be a grey, as that is certainly in his lineage. At three months old, he spends his day with his mum in the big paddock and is brought in for meals and overnights to keep him safe. In the large mare’s stable, with his mum, he is more subdued and allows his face to be touched. He seems to like the attention that then becomes a contest to see who can make it to the gate first—good practice for when he begins to race in a few years—as his normally chill Mamma is eager to be touched too.
As always, days begin early here, about 5:00 AM, just as light is breaking. The lights you see below are at the experimental farm to the southeast of us, where various strains of sugar cane are being grown to discern which ones are best for the changing climate.
Like the animals on the farm, John and I are creatures of habit, frequenting many of the same restaurants each time. Below, we were enjoying Mahi-Mahi and California Rolls at Naru, right on the Boardwalk in Hastings.
About travelling during the pandemic:
It’s a lot less fun and adapting to jurisdictional requirements and ramping up safeguards to my health, means it is substantially more complex and expensive too. My goal at each step along the way was to keep as much distance between myself and others. My affinity for discursive conversations had to be reined in and I am sure I missed out on some fun connections. Perhaps one day soon those opportunities will return.
Meantime—stay safe!