Burnt Biscuit Ranch
We drove through a persistent sprinkle yesterday; not enough to run the windshield wipers continuously but just enough to make it annoying. We arrived at my family’s ranch in the late afternoon and Percy was instantly acosted by my mom’s two chihuahuas and one great dane.
The great dane, Cherokee (Max pronounces her name “Turkey”), is only six months old but is quite large. She’s also quite clumsy and keeps tripping over her feet and bumping her head. Mom says Great Danes are supposed to be graceful and sophisticated. Ha ha. Not this dog!
Percy was shaking in his shadow while they all sniffed him. After awhile, they decided to be friends and Percy even took Biscuit to our RV to show him his own traveling “home.”
When it was time to bring the horses in, we took Percy with us, just knowing he’d be terrified of those “great big doggies.” But, we were wrong. Percy wasn’t aggressive, but he was very curious and crawled right under the fence for a closer sniff. Frank coaxed him back, taking him to Richard, who put him on his leash. We’d sure hate for Percy to get a horseshoe-shaped lump on his head while we’re here.
Gramama put the children to work right away feeding the horses. She and Papa then showed Max what an ant pile is (we don’t have those this time of year in Maine) and pointed out the baby calves in the pasture. Papa won’t let Gramama name these cows. You can guess why.
They have a freezer full of venison here and I haven’t had that in years, so I’ve begged for venison burgers or steaks.
Today I’m going shopping with my mom and the children will stay here with Richard. There’s certainly no shortage of things to explore here at the ranch. I just hope nobody finds poison ivy or a snake.