Jazzie who is munching away on an early breakfast. So I trap the wild animal by semi-closing the garage door and wedge the too-small halter over her nose and behind her ears and we trek to the easiest-to-open gate leading back into the somewhere-broken pasture.

Whereas there was a huge and kind moon shining my way when I exited the house, now it has slipped below the horizon and I am leading a wild animal toward a far-off gate in the pitch dark.  It turns out that the handle that connected the wire that stretches over the gate is no longer there and the wire has been wrapped a zillion times around a metal loop and I swear at the dark, the barking dog, the wild animal nudging my shoulder but mostly at the invisible wire.

Eventually, Jazzie is led inside and hay is brought to Lucy but not before I notice that a reading light has been left on in the subaru that Maxwel needs to drive to Brockport at 6am for play rehearsal and I am briefly thankful that I was up at 2:30am to notice that the light was left on so I could turn it off, save the battery, allow Maxwel to get to rehearsal on time and, ultimately, save the entire brockport cast from the humiliation of not being prepared for the big show in Philadelphia.

Now, I need a flashlight to study the cat vs dog vs pest vs foot vs hoof prints in the snow to determine the escape route and venture out into the back pasture (because of course, the break is out in the way back where the really wild animals wait for victims such as I) and spend some quality time in an open, pitch black, 2 degree morning with some more wire.

Wild Animals – Part 2

There may have been wild, carnivorous and hungry animals all around me but all I could see was what was in the ray of my flashlight as I pulled up over an acre of wire from under the snow and ice to repair the line of pasture that had been snapped by deer and trampled by a horse – reconnect at the far post and find my way back to the house with the still-barking dog.  With a couple of hours left before I have to wake up Max and review the road directions to Brockport and not sure I’ll fall back to sleep, I grab a couple blankets and lay down on the livingroom couch. Between the dog behind my head, snoring loudly and chasing rabbits in her sleep, kicking and jolting on the bed that has a plastic sheet under the blanket so that it makes a great deal of noise with every movement (recent incontinence issues) and the smallest cat with the most robust purr at my feet and the dog laying on my stomach who is wide awake and looking back and forth at the variety of noises around her – my shoulders just never warm up.  The leather couch is not warming to my body as promised by the salesperson at the furniture store – or maybe it has a ten-year expiration on the warming factor. So, small tired dog and I head to bed. 

5:30am: wake up Max and 5:45; repeat.

Let Cula out – coyotes are howling and the little-dog-bark continues through the morning.

First Solo Flight

After reviewing the maps and directions multiple times, Max is out the door at 6:30.  Before 7am, my phone rings which is still plugged in and in my bedside table so, Michael carries my phone into the livingroom and retells the conversation:

Maxwel “so, I’m going east on 90, is that right?”

Michael “no, that’s not right”

Maxwel “(expletive), so where do I turn around? Is there a gas station?”

Michael “(slight laugh) no, you can’t turn around.  You need to go to the next exit, Canastota, drive through the toll booth, straight ahead to the gas station, turn around and get back on going west”

Me “did you tell him how far the next exit is?”

Michael “no, I didn’t tell him that it’s about 16 miles to the Canastota exit”.

Get ready for work – try to call Max – no answer.  Feed the horses, go to take the tight halter off Jazzie and, she’s no longer wearing it.  If I’m lucky, it’s not under a sunken hoofprint in the swamp but hanging from a tree but my search may wait until the spring.

Be sure that Michael’s saab starts, defying the bright red battery light on his dash.

Pack up my stuff and get on the road.

8:30am Enroute to work, phone rings, Max is just past exit 46 (in record time).

Me: “that’s great, just one exit to go”

8:45am, phone rings, Max “is there money on the card to get gas?”

Me “yes, are you off the thruway or stopping at the last reststop before your exit?”

Max “I think I missed the exit”

Me “okay…..”

During the next hour and office meetings, a series of calls including lines such as “I can’t find the turn…”, “I don’t see any signs for Brockport “, “I went back to the beginning of this road and started over” a text that said “I’m here” and my response “call me before you leave”

10:50am phone rings Max “I’m getting ready to leave”

Me “so, can you find your way back to the thruway?”

Max “no, I don’t think so”

Me…. I got nothing; I pause, waiting for a reasonable solution to magically appear on the phone’s earpiece.  With no answer to my prayer, I say “so, you can’t just follow the road back to the thruway?”

Max “well how do I know when I get there?”

And I review what the signs look like and what they’ll say and how many miles they are from his current location.

Next call, he’s home taking a nap – it’s been a long day.

-end

quite frozen and pull the wires up that are draped with a zillion reeds, covered with ice and snow, with a flashlight in one hand and Jazzie watching me with curiosity from inside the fence.

2:30am Lucy whinnies the alarm that Jazzie is out - actual translation: hey, hey, where'd you go? I'm all alone! I'm going to tell on you! Jazzie's out, Jazzie's out! so, cula and I run downstairs, she waits inside barking incessantly while I grab lead and Lucy's halter (yes, it's smaller but it will fit tight and you will be punished because it's uncomfortable, hah!) and head to upper barn to grab Lucy a flake of hay so she stops freaking out and, lo and behold, surprise

Jazzie and Lucy