Jump to content

BuddyRoo Blog

Adventures With Boris The Taurus

Posted by BuddyRoo, 05 December 2009 · 147 views

In mid October, D2 acquired Boris. The Taurus. Now, contrary to my belief that a Taurus was the grandma car of times long gone, it seems that Ford has upped their game and created a technological, albeit teste [sic?], man-car worthy of purchase by the most manly of men.

One of the challenges we've encountered with Boris thus far is the voice activated gadgetry. Like many new cars now, you have to "train" the car to your voice and speech patterns. As such, when we initially began driving Boris, there were some rather funny "miscommunications".

Ipod Bingo was thusly found to be a game to entertain the masses---erm, the passengers. I cannot tell you how many times we've called out: "Play! Track! Yesterday!" only to hear Coldplay. Or "Holiday" or "anything-else-that-ends-in-"ay""

We have spent countless drives trying to get Santa Monica to play only to get "Bach with Harmonica" or some such nonsense.

Pretty good fun.

It wasn't until Halloween that I had the opportunity to pilot Boris. I found myself driving Boris and following D2 in a tractor. Why? Exactly.

Important to note here is that Boris has a key fob thingy ma bob and a push button start. The key fob has to be present in/near the car in order for the start button to work, but aside from that, you're good to go.

Or are you?

On Halloween as we were preparing for D2's daughter's birthday party, it became necessary for one of us to drive Grandpa's large and expensive tractor and for the other of us to follow behind in Boris down the narrow lane separating the corn fields. As I am not one to use other people's farm implements, I elected to drive Boris.


Key fob was in D2's pocket...and D2's pocket was attached to D2. And D2 was on a tractor several yards ahead of me.

That is when Boris determined that perhaps an unauthorized driver was driving. I was trying to be careful and navigate between mud holes driving between the corn rows. D2 was plowing along full speed on the ginormous tractor. All of a sudden warning bells started going off, "Key not present!!!"

Holy cow! Would he self destruct? Just shut off?

I hit the gas and tried to catch up, swerving between mud holes and avoiding high center in the ruts.

"Key not present" he said again.

Crap! I hit the clutch because that is my default panic first step for Ella--alas, no clutch present!

I was just sure that at any moment, Boris would either implode or just die.

It was at that time that another technological phenomenon occurred. Blue tooth.

"Ring! Ring!" from all speakers. The radio display scrolled the ex-wife's name + incoming call.

CRAP. Did NOT want to talk to her. Where was the danged cell phone anyway? Oh yeah. In the OTHER pocket attached to D2 on the tractor. I took my foot off the gas hoping to get out of range quickly enough to miss the call....but then Boris started barking about an unauthorized driver again. Can. Not. Win.!!!!

I made it back to the cabin and all was well, but that was the first and last time I drove Boris. I deemed him too advanced and high brow for my tastes.

It seems that D2 has figured most of it out by now, but most does not equate to all.

More key fob issues arose just last week.

D2 had left the girls in the car to play Ipod Bingo with Taylor Swift songs while he ran into the grocery store--key fob once again in his pocket. When he arrived back to the car and attempted to open the trunk, it did not open.

He told the girls to hit the "trunk" button inside. They did. Several times. (6 times methinks!)

Still, nothing.

He suspected that Boris required the key fob to be IN the car for that to work and unceremoniously pulled the key out, unlocked the trunk, deposited groceries and called it good.

Later as he recounted this story, it began with, "I think I found a bug in Boris' program" A bug? Do tell!

As the story was related, groceries were deposit in the trunk. D2 got in and started the car. Boom! Trunk popped open.

D2 got out, shut the trunk, got back in.

Boom! Trunk popped open.

D2 got out, shut the trunk, got back in.

Boom! Trunk popped open.

D2 got out, the trunk, got back in. "How many times did you girls hit the "open trunk" button?"

"Dunno Dad!"

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Boom! Trunk popped open. He pulled over, shut the trunk.

As they got onto the main road heading towards the interstate, Boom! It popped open again.

Shut, back on the road....heading up the on ramp....Boom! Popped open once more.

At this point, D2 was considering taking back roads home just in case. But that sixth time was it and they made it home.

Apparently, Boris queues up requests and delivers said requests only when and if the key fob is in the car.

May I just say that I am thankful for the technologically less advanced Ella? At least I know that she won't spontaneously pop open and throw my things about the interstate due to miscommunication.


My How Time Flies: Ella Da Kia's Birthday

Posted by BuddyRoo, 03 December 2009 · 172 views
Adventures with Ella da Kia
One year ago tomorrow, I picked up Ella da Kia. She had 9 miles on her when we pulled out of the lot.

When I say "we", I'm not referring to Ella and me. I'm referring to SNG and me. Why? Well, for the simple fact that I did not know how to drive a stick! That's right...as you might recall, many of the funny adventures with Ella relate back to my complete and utter embarrassment this last year as I learned to operate my vehicle.

In fact, after leaving the dealer lot that cold December night, SNG drove us directly to the grocery store parking lot for some practice. Then out on some country roads where I was first introduced to the appropriate method of avoiding deer which became my mantra in any and all questionable situations. "Clutch! Brake! Neutral!"

She now has over 20k miles on her. She has been to Iowa and back, to Lexington and back, on many many trips to and from various barns (there have been 3 in the last 12 mos). She has served as hay wagon, mobile medical unit, and currently as a mobile tack room. It's been a good year. Lots of stories. Mostly embarrassing ones though.

One of the things that has caused the most embarrassment is my difficulty with first gear. I hate the fact that I'm so good at nonchalantly restarting Ella in the middle of intersections, at stop signs, in parking lots, when backing out of my driveway, etc because what it means is that I quite often kill her.

I've gotten better. But still, several board buddies have been witness to my challenges. Theo and Lynne got a taste back when Lynne did her cross country trek. Shelley and Bumper both witnessed it in parking lots. My neighbors are, without fail, out on their porches or collecting the morning paper when I do it going from reverse to first after backing out of my driveway. But thus far, I have managed to keep this inadequacy from my current boyfriend.

No longer.

Last night due to threat of snow, I did something I've thus far avoided with great conviction. Parking Ella in the garage.

Several weeks ago, D2 cleared out the other half of the garage in preparation for a cozy winter overnight spot for Ella. At the front of this space is the John Deere tractor with snow blade attached.

The fear of crashing into the tractor was not my only concern though I will say that my mastery of spacial relations is sub par and hitting an object in front of me was not out of the question. The other concern is that Boris the Taurus (D2's new car) also resides in the garage. Hitting him would be disastrous.

Last but not least, Ella da Kia is (rather, was) a garage virgin! I had no idea how she might feel about being in such a small enclosed space with the swarthy Boris!

I found out. She was scared. Very very scared. I tried to prep her ahead of time. On the drive out to D2's, I explained what was going to happen, that she shouldn't be afraid but that I could understand if she was.

As we approached the house, I hung up the phone with mom so that I could pay an appropriate amount of attention to Ella. We turned into the driveway (up a slight incline) and I shifted into first.

Ella's front tires had just crossed the threshold into the garage when, humphf! Dead. I depressed the clutch and restarted her. Giais poked me with his nose impatiently. My palms were getting sweaty. I eased in a bit further but I could tell she was very nervous because humphf! Dead again!

At this point, I was getting just as mortified as Ella. Would D2 hear the car getting restarted? Would he appear in the doorway laughing? I could hear Boris snickering.

I paused to collect myself. The automatic garage door light was about to go dim so I knew I had to go for it. I turned the key. Nothing. Turned the key again. NOTHING! Great. Half way in the garage, half way out. No car.

I had forgotten the first step to any Ella situation. CLUTCH! (duh.)

Got her started...hit the gas, said a little prayer and made it! I got out, amazed. No injuries or fatalities. Giais bounded out of the car and the garage door to the kitchen opened. D2 poked his head out. "Everything okay?"

Sheepishly I replied, "Yeah. I killed her. Three times."

"I thought I heard a car start. Ha ha."

And that was that. Put Ella to bed and wouldn't ya know? It never did snow last night. Still, we're ready for next time and hopefully, it will be much less eventful.

The Adventures Of Buddyroo: Multitasking, Multipurpose, And Mutts

Posted by BuddyRoo, 26 August 2009 · 241 views


I wasn't sure if this should be an Adventures with Ella da Kia or an Adventures with Giais or an Adventures with the Neighbors. So since I am the common denominator, I figured I'd just knock this one out as another in The Adventures of BuddyRoo series.

My dog is sick. Not "mild upset tummy" sick, but--full blown pancreatitis--can't even keep water down--going to cost more than a grand to fix this--sick. He spent the day at the veterinary hospital yesterday getting fluids and such but they wanted to keep him on fluids and since they don't have staff overnight and I have experience (thank God for my years at Animal Care!) they sent him home with me.

This is where the fun began.


If you've followed The Adventures of BuddyRoo and Ella da Kia, you know that Ella is my "new" car. She is actually an SUV. Normally when Giais is his normal self, I put the back seats down and he hangs out there. But when I retrieved him last night, he had a catheter in his leg and I wanted to make sure he didn't try to chew it out on the drive home. So I put him in the front seat.

Little ol' me went on down the road...hoping that he wouldn't vomit in the car. You know that arm thing moms do at stop lights with their kids? The ol' "throw an arm across kid as if you could actually keep them from flying through the windshield" "mom belt" thing? Yeah, found myself doing that.

Problem? Ella is a manual and if you're approaching a stop sign you are normally driving with your left hand, shifting with your right...no extra hands for the "mom belt."

Bonus challenge? I was on the phone with my mom who was checking in on her granddogger.

So. There's me. Driving. Holding phone with left hand to right ear when I see the stop sign looming. Here is where multitasking comes into play. Imagine this.

"Mom, hold on a sec". Re-situated phone and held to my right ear with my shoulder. "Okay" Knee on wheel, left hand across my lap shifting, right arm doing the "mom belt", wishing I hadn't worn heels. It was like playing twister in my own car! Realizing that wasn't probably the safest way to navigate the roads--even if they were empty country roads--I hung up. But seriously. Use your imagination there. Right hand outstretched, shoulder cramped up holding phone, knee on wheel, left hand crossing over and shifting. If there were awards for making up ridiculously new ways to kill yourself while driving, I'd get the gold star!


We did make it home alive. So that's good. And of course the neighborhood was mobilized to receive us and assist in any way. (Gotta love old time neighborhoods). So when I pulled into the driveway, my neighbors across the street yelled, "We've got a cold one for ya!" (when you're talking to BuddyRoo, yelling that you have a beer waiting is like asking a dog if he "wants to go for a ride?" If I had a tail, I'd wag!).

I headed over across the street with Giais and my bag o' IV fluids. Took a sip of beer and proceeded to try to get the IV all hooked up. After some fiddling with the catheter, I had established a good drip...but then there I was...on the front porch of my neighbor's house holding a bag of IV fluids.

With a dog in one hand and an IV bag in the other, there was no free hand for beer! We needed an IV stand. My neighbor (who greeted me with a beer) clearly was on the same wavelength because he almost immediately popped up out of his chair, disappeared into the garage and came back with what I now lovingly refer to as the "Redneck IV Stand".

THAT my friends, is a vacuum cleaner! Oh the ingenuity and the Natty Light!

Whole setup...dark, but you get the idea:

Two things that I should mention here. 1) I was pretty impressed with his quick thinking. 2) I actually DID say OUT LOUD "Oh man, I wish I had my camera, my friends on HC will laugh at this!". Luckily, my neighbor lady had a camera phone.


When the first bag of fluids was almost done, I returned to the house to put together the setup there. I dragged doggy bed #2 out into the living room and went to grab the vacuum. HARK! Problem. My vacuum doesn't HAVE the hook! I spent several minutes walking through my house looking for something that could serve as an IV stand. At last, I spied my floor lamp. Those tall ones that are wrought iron? Yep. That was our IV stand for the night.

I had to make a preemptive call to my roommate this morning as a matter of fact--to explain WHY the living room floor lamp was in the kitchen next to his dog crate. Also had to explain why there was another dog bed in the kitchen with my bedroom comforter and pillows. I thought it might be weird for her to walk in and see that after a night out with friends. Yeah...I slept on his spare dog bed next to his crate so I could hear him moving around and would wake up to check the lines and take him outside.


Giais needed to return to the hospital this a.m. I didn't want to stop his IV because I didn't have any heparin and I was concerned about how I was going to make this all work. Well....BONUS! The little hooks in the back seats for hangers? They fit IV bags too! Ella is a mobile medical unit!

This time I put him in the back seat because he was fairly lethargic and really didn't want to sit up. I found myself taking starts and stops really slowly. So slowly in fact that I was able to catch more than a few quizzical looks as people peered into my car and saw an IV bag hanging. Since they couldn't see the dog, you have to wonder if they thought I was hauling around a friend recouping from a hard night. Or if I were in fact a serial killer or something. Maybe people just don't care that much anymore. I dunno.

Back to Ella for a second. This is the first new car I've ever owned. I nearly shed tears the day that I had to put hay in her. There are STILL pokey bits that have survived multiple vacuum attacks. Once you put hay in a car, it's pretty much over. And yet, I've still managed to keep her pretty clean.

Throughout all this back and forth with Giais in the car, he had not puked, had not bled, and had not had loose bowels. In fact, I believe that I mentioned this to my mother just before I hung up as I pulled into the clinic parking lot.

I put Ella in neutral, set the emergency brake (are you sure? yes. are you sure? yes. what if she rolls away with Giais in the car? She won't. It's on.) and while in the middle of this discussion with myself, I heard what reminded me of those Long John Silvers commercials where the wave comes crashing over the people.

It was Giais. More accurately, it was all of the water Giais had lapped up between 5 and 9am. All over the back seat of Ella. It wasn't exactly projectile vomiting...more like turning on a fire hose. I am not really looking forward to getting back in the car to be honest.

But there we are with MUTTS. No matter how goofy your behavior has to become to get the job done, no matter how much it costs, no matter how much sleep you lose, no matter the mess and normally gag-o-riffic-ness of it all...once you have a "heart dog", you just do it.

I can't wait to get him home.

This It Be Right.

Posted by BuddyRoo, 21 August 2009 · 674 views

If you've not been over to COTH before to know of Willem, a little explanation is necessary.

Willem was a horse. A Hanoverian who had an online persona and spoke in broken English with a German accent. He often posted recommendations for horse owners..such as what to get your horse for Christmas, appropriate treat protocol., etc.

He was famous for saying "This it be right" or "This it be wrong". Willem passed in 2003, but made an additional heartfelt appearance from the other side of the Rainbow Bridge a few years ago to remind us that "Wenn we pass, we all come here. We wait here for you until you come." after there had been several losses.

You can read Willem's "Hallo von der Rainbow Bridge" post here:

Anyway...recently there seem to have been a string of losses once again, and Willem's mom Coreene posted "This it be right" to comfort another member who had just euthanized her horse.

Every time someone asks about choosing the "right" time or knowing when to let go....or afterwards when they are struggling and questioning themselves, I feel all of that bubble back up in me as well. I have my standard script...better a day too soon than a moment too late...better while the sparkle is still in their eye..etc. And I DO believe it. But I am not immune from the tears welling up thinking about my BuddyRoo and wondering, even if briefly, if I chose the right time.

So last night reading along, nodding knowing that "This it be right", I wrote the following...as much for me as for anyone else.

This It Be Right

Better a week too soon than a moment too late, they say.
Better while the eyes still sparkle than wait til they dull.
Better while the good days outnumber the bad.
Better when it's hard for us than hard for them.

It will never be easy for us.

As stewards of these great creatures,
We have the opportunity to give one final gift.
We grant them peace in lieu of our own.

But granting peace, the end, when we wish for more time?
Eventually becomes a gift to ourselves.
Knowing that we gave a final gift to one we cherished.
Knowing it will leave an empty spot in our hearts.

Doing it anyway. Because we DO love. And "this it be right"?

That is what makes us human.

For the love of my horse, I know who I am.
And I know love.

This it be right.

If you've got the time, I'd encourage you to check out some of Willem's threads on the Favorites board over at COTH. You'll laugh, but you might cry. You've been warned.

This it be right.

All Good Things Must Come To An End.....

Posted by BuddyRoo, 08 August 2009 · 182 views

...But Not Necessarily THIS way!

Where we last left off, I was talking about Happy Cows and the crazy things you'll do when someone really tickles your fancy. Let's just say that I fully intend to eat some angry pi$$ed off cows, some crabby chickens, and some surly pigs for awhile. rolleye0014.gif

Yes, all good things must come to an end but some ends are better than others.

Back in June, I shared with you my tongue in cheek version of "the list". http://forums.horsecity.com/index.php?auto...p;showentry=354 I had added a few things to the list in honor of my good friend whose boyfriend as it turns out, was a real loser. Things like "Thou shalt not date convicted sex offenders" made the list at that time.

All of the things on the list were based on real experiences. Like the thing about appendages and letting me know in advance whether or not you're missing some. Not because I CARE if you're missing an arm, but because it's awkward to show up on a first date, offer to shake someone's hand, and THEN realize that they don't have one.

So again, somewhat tongue in cheek this list of rules...but all based on actual experience. Cool thing though? The day after I posted that, I met someone. We started dating. Nothing too serious. But still a lot of fun. And he met all the requirements and then some. He treated me well, was very complimentary, I liked his friends, his friends seemed to like me, he turned me on to Happy Cows, and much more. I'll spare the details but generally? Good guy. Fun guy. Nice guy. I liked him. But as I said, all good things must come to an end. And usually, the end--whether it's 10 minutes into a first date or 10 months into a serious relationship--give me something to add to the list.

Today, I'd like to add these two:

1) Thou shalt not break up with someone on their birthday or any major holiday. Not only is it rude and smacks of poor timing and/or lack of situational awareness, but it makes it harder to put you in the "Oh, it didn't work out, but he's a nice guy" category (which I'm fond of doing. I collect people). You're NOT nice if you break up with someone on their birthday or any major holiday. It makes friends of the dump-ee want to rent backhoes, buy lime, and round up the posse.

Even if you eventually come to your senses and apologize at a later date, it makes your judgment suspect and will forever cast a shadow on your character in the eyes of all friends who had to nurse the poor dump-ee through an el crappo birthday. In my humble opinion of course. Well, actually no. We have the backhoe lined up and the feed store sells lime. They open in 30 minutes.

2) If you fully intend, or suspect that there's any possibility that you may be inclined, to break up with someone by saying, "I'm just not ready for a relationship right now." ???? Then get OFF of dating sites. Don't date. Seriously. Get yourself together before signing up. Because it's quite confusing for the dumpee when you ask to see them exclusively, you're telling them that the sun shines out their bum and that their eyes are stars in the sky and you're planning weekend getaways and such, all is going well--and then... With no warning (on their BIRTHDAY!), you say, "Ya know, I'm just not ready for a relationship." MmmmKayyyyy. What this does is call into question your mental stability. It also makes the dumpee sit there and wonder what in the heck he/she missed because he/she is a pretty rational human being and a skeptic and even still, this one is a shocker. Which then makes him/her think that perhaps he/she is nuts.

Again, this annoys the friends of the dumpee and makes them want to rent backhoes and buy lime because they have to spend countless hours assuring the dumpee that it really is the dumper's loss and that the dumpee is fabulous and blah blah blah.

So that's it. Just wanted to throw that out there. I think I have some crabby cow in the freezer that I can make for dinner tonight. And I'm pretty sure that with all this rain we're having today, no one is ACTUALLY going to get a backhoe out. Also, this recent experience has given me a LOT of good material that I've resisted writing about to protect the innocent. Now that the "innocent" isn't on my list of "people whose feelings I care about today", I might actually lay down a few good stories. We shall see. winking0073.gif

DISCLAIMER: No dump-ers were harmed in the making of this blog nor will they be harmed. Any reference to backhoes, lime, pits, killing, maiming, or harassment is done in jest and should not be perceived as a real physical threat in any way, shape or form. This is merely a cathartic way to spend a rainy Saturday morning two days after an el crappo birthday and a way to apologize to and thank my friends who have listened to me whine and have so generously offered their services and use of backhoes. Oh and pitbulls! Thanks Connie! Thanks to all. happy0203.gif

Adventures With Ella Da Kia: I Cheated On Her

Posted by BuddyRoo, 07 August 2009 · 89 views

Note to all: This is why you should never, ever cheat on someone! Anxiety will get you!

In case someone thinks I'm talking about a real person, I'm not. Ella da Kia is my car. I've had a lot of adventures with Ella since December when I got her (and have blogged about them...clutch! brake! neutral!). She's a manual transmission.I've never had one of those before. It has presented a lot of humor.

For those who DO know about Ella...

Last week, I met up with Bumper in Indy for a quick "Hello" and slumber party. (number of board buddies I've slept with is climbing!) Anyway...as she was leaving, Bump asked "So, you getting the hang of driving her yet?" This of course was followed by laughter.

The truth is, I haven't stalled Ella since Theo and Lynne were here a few months ago. Things are going great! I have now mastered driving in heels, flip flops, muck boots, field boots, tennis shoes (except when the tread gets stuck on the clutch) and barefoot--which is my preference.

So yeah. Things with Ella are going well. We've come to an understanding and are well into the "comfortable" phase of our relationship.

But today? I cheated on her.

I needed to run up to Rite Aid to pick up a few things. My roommate was parked behind me in the driveway and I really didn't want to do the whole jenga-for-parking-spots on the street thing, so I asked if I could just drive her car. She threw me the keys.

Nickie (her car) is a silver Ford Explorer. And an automatic. I slid on in and before I had even turned the key, I knew I was in trouble. I pounded the floor board with my left foot looking for the clutch. Good grief.

Started up Nickie and backed out of the driveway...again....looking for the clutch. Got close the stop sign at the end of my road and again....hit the "clutch"....

I only needed to go a few miles, but it took all my mental strength NOT to shift something. Like into reverse. That would go over well. Not.

I parked at Rite Aid and set the parking brake. Not necessary. Duh.

Went in, got my stuff, got back in the car. Hit the floor board again with my left before turning the key in the ignition. I clearly am a slow learner.

It was then that I thought I better find a use for my right hand because I was subconsciously about ready to shift into "third" which would've been reverse. I called Shelley. She didn't answer. I only had a few miles to go so I decided that even though i'm against them, I'd leave a voicemail to kill some time and keep my hand busy.

And I did. It went like this: "Hey, it's BuddyRoo. I normally don't leave messages, but I'm trying to keep my right hand occupied so that I don't accidentally "shift" Nicky into reverse. I figured you'd at least get a laugh. Talk to you later. Bye."

I made it home without incident but seriously...that's what I get for cheating on Ella. A lot of anxiety.

As it should be.

Adventures In Boarding V1

Posted by BuddyRoo, 05 August 2009 · 148 views

The other day on COTH, we started sharing our funny/odd/Where's The Fruitbat? boarding stories and I remembered that I had once promised to write out a few of my experiences from leasing the farm--once I wasn't leasing the farm anymore. winking0073.gif


Here we go.

Background: First of all, I love love love the lady I leased the farm from. She had been quite a horsewoman in her day back in Virginia jumping and fox hunting. By the time I met her, she was in her late 70's and living in Michigan. Still very independent and opinionated--all delivered with Southern charm. Still operating the big tractor, fixing fence, mowing in the summer and plowing in the winter. I came to like her very much and still see her from time to time. She's quite a well known character in the horse world around here. It is with love that I relay these stories because those who know her will "get it" and those who don't will laugh. To protect the innocent, I'll call her Betty. Nah, that doesn't fit. How about if I call her "J"?

The Farrier

I had only been there for a few months and didn't know "J" THAT well yet when I had arranged for a new farrier to meet me at the barn. I had called the day before to let her know when we'd be coming so we wouldn't startle her.

The farrier pulled into the drive ahead of me and was getting out of his truck and being greeted by the barking dog when he quickly wheeled around on his heel and faced me--all manner of red faced.

The sight I saw next explained it all. There was my topless 70 something BO sauntering towards the garage. She'd been out sunbathing when we arrived. Topless. That farrier didn't come back.

Turns out that this was a common occurrence AND "J" is a little hard of hearing so I learned to drive very slowly and let the dog give "J" a heads up and me a chance of protecting my eyes.

The Tractor

She had this old old tractor. She was very into fixing things herself and there were parts holding this tractor together that were NOT tractor parts. LOL Anyway, I never drove the thing because I was afraid it might fall apart while I used it. Instead, I used the neighbor's tractor because it had actual working meant-for-tractor-parts on it.

So I was out one (must've been spring) day and there she was with this tractor--one axle being propped up precariously on cinder blocks in the barn and she was trying to put one of the big rear tires back on.

My then boyfriend offered to help her and he set to work, tightening up the lug nuts while she went up to the house for lemonade or something.

When she came back, he had finished putting all of the lugnuts on and she exclaimed, "Young man! I didn't want ALL of them back on. Take half of them off and loosen them a bit!"

He sputtered out, "But..." and she interrupted, "If they're all on there and on there tight, I'll never be able to get the tire off!"

I shook my head (on the inside) and vowed never EVER to get on that tractor. Like I would've before.

Then one day late in summer, she'd been out brush hogging. I arrived to see this:

The whole wheel had come off and rolled down the hill. By the time I took pics though we had the wheel back up. Once again, axle propped up on cinder blocks. Luckily, no one was hurt but my goodness, I got a good belly laugh out of that one.

There are so many more....the gate, the water tank, the bum thing in a margarine container, jumping in the trees, "making love" to the saddle, "losing her" up north and sending the police, Peanut....lol, I'm giggling just thinking of it. Perhaps I'll name this V1 and continue on another day.


Posted by BuddyRoo, 03 August 2009 · 126 views

I'm not sure what it is about birds, but it seems that lately, everyone is having run ins with them.

Last week, a coworker pulled me into her office to tell me about her harrowing ordeal with a black bird. She had gotten up early in the morning after much crying and meowing from her cat. Apparently, her cat enjoys a morning romp outside and was impatient to get a start on his day. Like she does most mornings, she cracked open the back door and left it ajar so that the cat could return as he wished.

She had just thrown in another load of laundry and was walking back through the kitchen when the cat reappeared--with a black bird in his mouth. She grabbed a barstool and attempted while shreaking, "Get out! Get outside now!" to shoo the cat back through the door and onto the patio. The cat, clearly confused and possibly frightened, spat the bird out on the kitchen floor and retreated a few steps away.

My coworker admits to having a fear of birds. But since this one was clearly dead, she mustered her courage and grabbed a few paper towels with which she intended to gingerly grab the bird and toss it into the garbage.

The bird had other ideas. She said "He was lying there dead. And then his head swiveled around and he LOOKED AT ME!"

At which point she ran shrieking from the room slamming her bedroom door behind her and then running into the master bath and shutting THAT door behind her as well. She recounted that she was sitting on the floor by the door in her bathroom (two doors between her and the undead bird) when she realized that she did not have a phone.

So she raced into the bedroom, grabbed the phone, and shut herself back in the bathroom.

This is a full grown woman. A mother to two teenage children. And there she sat, terrified on the floor of her bathroom dialing her boyfriend's number. Her boyfriend who by the way, lives nearly 2 hours away in another town.

Apparently, she was so hysterical that it took him some time to sort out the problem. His advice? "Get a broom."

More shrieking ensued. That's when she heard her daughter hollering, "Mom! What's wrong?"

"There's (shriek) a bird (shriek) in the kitchen!!!!"


A few minutes and one extremely brave, calm and brilliant teenage moment later, the bird had been caught in a towel and escorted to the back deck where he collected himself and flew away.

Do you think my friends saw this happen? Heck no! She was still holed up in the bathroom (with two doors between her and the bird) until her teenage daughter TEXT MESSAGED her to say, "It's okay mom, it's gone. I'm going back to bed. Have a good day."

The best part of this? My friend/coworker said, "I don't know what I would've done if she hadn't been here. I was NOT leaving the bathroom. What if my kids had been at their dad's or something?" LOL Priceless.

Now normally I'm not in the habit of recounting other peoples' stories because I seem to have enough of my own...but this weekend, I was reminded of this story because something a little similar happened to me.

I was sitting outside reading a book Saturday morning--it was fairly early--I was trying to keep the dogs outside so my roommate could sleep in. I looked up when I heard a low growl from Giais. There he was by one of the side gates staring intently at a bird. The sparrow was sitting about 6 inches off the ground on my chain link fence. Giais was only a few feet away.

I scanned for dog number two. When I looked to my left towards the other side gate, I noticed THE SQUIRREL approaching me with a nut in his mouth. THE SQUIRREL appears to be the only resident squirrel in my yard and takes great fun in tormenting the dogs.

I had a dilemma. If you envision a giant "V" I was at the pointy part. At the top of the V on each side was one critter and one dog. I wasn't sure which critter I could (or should) reasonably save. I made a quick mental calculation and figured that I could distract Giais long enough to give the bird a shot if I just yelled, whereas I may need to tackle the other dog to save the squirrel.

So I did. I yelled, I scooted. All critters were saved. But that bird just didn't seem right. He wasn't a fledgling, he was an adult. But he didn't seem to take flight like I'd expect. I made a mental note to look for him later--figuring he'd flown into a window or something and that was that.

Or so I thought.

I needed to run some errands so I went inside to change. My roommate was sitting at the kitchen table studying and sipping coffee. All was well.

Until I heard screaming. I went running out of my room with boxers and a bra on and there was my roommate, hand over her mouth but still doing a combination scream/cry/OMG. Then I looked outside. In her dog's mouth was "the bird".

I want to make it clear that I am in no way making fun of my roommate when I tell this story. She is such a kind hearted soul. But it is important to not that had she not been screaming and near tears, and if I had not been concerned that virtually every course of action I was considering would probably upset her more, then this wouldn't be a funny story. Because it would've ended right here.

But, as I approached the "dead" bird and examined it and thought of possible ways to dispatch it, there was my roommate asking if we could take it somewhere. Like the vet.

So I looked at it some more. Wings didn't appear to be broken. Neck didn't appear to be broken. Legs were still intact. No puncture wounds that I could see. But it was a sparrow. And we all know that these things die of shock at the drop of a hat and frankly, he wasn't looking so good. He wasn't really moving but he was still breathing.

I sat there trying to think of the best way to dispatch a little bird. I figured that breaking his neck would be good--but I was concerned that in an effort to not let the little guy suffer, I might actually rip his head OFF and I was pretty sure that would REALLY freak out my roommate.

I thought about putting him in a baggy and throwing him in the freezer and letting hypothermia take over. But I didn't think that would go over well either. I thought about just whacking him on the concrete or even running him over with my car but again....all of these things seemed like they could potentially be more traumatic to someone watching.

And then? His head swiveled around and he looked at me.

So. As I had errands to run anyway, my roommate got a cardboard Molson 12 pack box, laid some paper towels in it and we set the bird in there. I put him out in the front yard (away from the dogs) in the shade and told roomie that he'd probably die of shock, but that we could leave him there for a few minutes while I ran errands and see if he recovered.

My real motivation here was to buy some time, make a few phone calls and figure out how to properly dispatch a tiny bird. I called mom. No answer. I called Troy. No answer. I tried thinking of other people who might know how to appropriate dispatch a bird but I didn't have THEIR numbers in my cell phone. So as I drove home from target, I began praying that the poor little guy would have expired on his own before I got home.

I pulled into the drive and looked into the box. No bird. Just some feathers. I moved the bedding around figuring that he was dead, just dead under the paper towels. Nope. I looked under the parked car, looked around the yard, etc....figuring that sure, he got out of the box but he still needed to be killed and by goodness, I wasn't going to let my roommate run over him.

No bird.

So I went on inside and reported to roomie that the bird was gone. I thought she'd be happy but she didn't say much. I put some stuff away, showed her the new skirt I bought, and that's when she said, "Did he really go away or did you kill him and you're just not telling me?"

Nope, didn't kill him. He was gone.

Two thoughts here. 1) I think it's absolutely HILARIOUS that my coworker friend trapped herself in a bathroom to avoid a bird. 2) I think I've become a hardened meanie head because my first thought was to dispatch a poor little bird and my roommate's was to "take him somewhere".

I was pretty convinced of #2 until this morning when I was in my Monday Morning Meeting and during a lull, I asked the guys how THEY'D recommend dispatching a wee bird. You don't want to hear their answers. But they were laughing. So I guess maybe I'm not as cold hearted as I thought.

Happy Monday!

Don't let the birds get ya!

The Adventures Of Buddyroo: More On Dating And Happy Cows

Posted by BuddyRoo, 29 July 2009 · 169 views


When I wrote last, it was about the Adventures of Dating and coming up with a decent set of criteria. Basic stuff like having a job, teeth, and not being a registered sex offender. Much of it was tongue in cheek as a good friend of mine had recently broken up with a loser boyfriend and was wondering how on EARTH she got into the mess. I was trying to gently (and humorously) point out that the guy didn't meet a single one of the most basic criteria and that in the future, she should make her own list.

Anyway. You can read that here: http://forums.horsecity.com/index.php?auto...p;showentry=354

I posted my list. I think I offended a few people because it seemed like I was being too picky and possibly eliminating some very nice guys from the dating pool over what some considered to be minor things. I thought about that pretty hard that day. But then I realized that I really wasn't THAT interested in dating anyway, and if I was going to go through the trouble of doing it, I might as well get exactly what I want. I of course turned to horsey logic: There are a plenty of well broke, well behaved horses out there...why would you pick up a rank son of a gun and not your dream horse? I decided to stick to my guns and my somewhat picky and possibly unrealistic set of criteria.

Long and short...the day after I posted the blog, I met someone. And he met all of my criteria and then some. Intelligent, kind, loves dogs, great sense of humor, beautiful smile, lovely eyes, is well read and likes to discuss issues and debate, is fit, has his own hobbies and friends, etc etc etc. That was 5 weeks ago. Not one to name the puppy just yet, let's call him "H D G" (hot doctor guy)

So here's the problem. Something is really, really WRONG with me! surrender.gif

I've taken to doing all the things I've always said I would never ever do!

Like...holding hands in public. sick0022.gif Giving someone a peck over dinner. sick0022.gif Giggling. sick0022.gif Like a little girl. sick0022.gif Talking incessantly about every ridiculously cute/funny/adorable/smart/interesting comment the guy has ever made to anyone who will listen. rolleye0014.gif I've started eating only happy cows and happy eggs (more on that later), and have been thinking about JOGGING again. ?????? thud.gif I've even considered going SHOPPING to have some cuter clothes. You KNOW something is wrong with me when I'm thinking about going to the MALL -and- running without someone chasing me!


Not sure what to tell you, but if you decide to make a list and you meet someone who has all the qualities you were looking for? Watch out. It's like a disease or something. You may do crazy, stuff. Like start eating only "Happy Cows".


This is one of the things that I learned about on the first date. HDG only eats critters that were happy til the moment they were dead. IE: Happy Cows. Happy Eggs. Happy Pigs. (I made up the "Happy" part....just so I had some way to verbalize it. At this point, I refer to the whole concept as "Happy Cow". Just FYI.)

What this means is that he won't eat, for example, a steak that he doesn't know the origin of because he doesn't want to eat beef that was standing hock deep in a muddy nasty feedlot or something. Conversely, he has no problem eating venison (was happy til shot--out being a deer) or eating a pig or turkey or chicken that was free ranging on a happy little farm somewhere. Eggs of course, must come only from chickens that have not been confined to teeny cages. Fish and seafood however, are rather exempt as they already live in the wild and (per H D G) are too dumb to suffer emotionally--unlike cows, pigs, chickens, etc.

So on our first date, when it came time to order (I did not yet know about Happy Cow), he told me he was a vegetarian. I probed a little and that's when he said, "Well, I'm not really a vegetarian, it's just easier to say that than explain my whole concept about the kinds of meat I'll eat."

shocked.gif Red flag. Houston we have a problem!

I flat out asked at that point if he was a PETA freak. He said no--those people are nuts. To verify, I asked him if he knew what sea kittens were. He did not. I asked if he felt that it was mean to ride horses. He did not. So I deduced that he was indeed NOT a PETA freak and lunch could continue.

But this still kind of presented a problem! I grew up in Iowa. Land of beef and pork. I decided right then and there at lunch that I better look into this whole "Happy Cow" concept because I LOVE me a good steak and weird food issues could be a total deal breaker. I mean, it's nerve wracking enough to go on a date...add to it wondering what in the heck you can actually eat without offending the other person? Anxiety.

I liked the guy. I wanted to understand this whole concept. I read the article he sent me. I did some research and talked it over with some people--trying to figure out how one actually APPLIES this concept and still eats meat. I had to act fast because after our first date, he asked me out for a second. And we were going to DINNER! twitch.gif

So of course I turned to my friends on HC for some guidance. I posted on the debate board, had lengthy phone conversations about it. Several fellow HCers found sources of "happy" meat. But none of us could figure out how one practices this whole "Happy Critter" concept at your local supermarket.

In fact, one afternoon, I got a call from Shelley who was AT her local supermarket and happily exclaimed that she had found "happy eggs"! HOWEVER, when she inquired with the butcher, he was unable to direct her to any happy meat. He wasn't aware of any labeling that could guarantee one a "happy steak".

I was starting to panic.

When it came time to pick a restaurant, I had to canvas coworkers at the office for ideas about places that served seafood because I just couldn't find ANY place that had happy meat.

I finally decided that the best way to address the situation was to erm....address the situation. It was time to talk to HDG. "So, um...how exactly do you put this concept into practice because I've been researching it and I see no way to eat beef or pork or chicken from the store because there's no labeling for "Happy Cows"."

Him: "Oh, yeah. No you have to go out of your way. So I just don't really eat meat."


Him: "But I don't care what other people eat. You eat whatever you want. I don't impose my stuff on other people. No worries." (well that was the gist of the convo)

Sigh of relief. Crisis averted. At that point, I sent him a link to the topic on the debate board on HC.

Only here's the thing. After all that research and discussion, I found that more than just wanting to make someone else comfortable by trying to understand and respect their beliefs (which is how it started), that I actually wanted to hold myself to the same criteria. Which is why you'll now find in my refrigerator only Eggland's Best Cage Free Eggs. And why in 5 weeks, the only beef I've had was indeed "Happy Cow" from Iowa.

How crazy is that?

Of course, I still poke him a bit about what I call "Happy Cow" but it's all in good fun. Which is why I can tell you all about it now...5 weeks later and 5 weeks into my "Happy Cow" regimen without hurting anyone's feelings.

Still, I think I'm sick or something. First it's Happy Cows...before you know it I might be jogging and shopping again. Scary love stuff. happy0203.gif

The Adventures Of Buddyroo And Dating

Posted by BuddyRoo, 23 June 2009 · 644 views
Adventures Out and About
I have not been on a first date in awhile. I believe it was late October or some such (hi "R" if you're reading this...sorry about that...stuff got pretty crazy around Thanksgiving and I just couldn't do the dating thing). And then of course I started re-dating an ex but we've decided after like 5 rounds in 3 years to just be friends. (hi SNG. beers next week?)

So I'm back in the game. On the market if you will. And my method of choice is to use a popular online dating service which shall remain nameless. **cough*rhymes*with*thatch*dot*com*cough**

This online dating thing is not new to me. My best girlfriend back home met her now husband via the internet and insisted that I sign up. So....since the fall of 2004, every guy I've dated seriously, semi seriously, or "just once was enough" has been a result of online dating. I've met some really nice guys and also a lot of whackados. It's a result of the latter that I had to put some serious thought into my list of "must haves" and "deal breakers".

Now, *I* knew what was on my list, but I decided that it would be more effective to publish some of these items so that guys could kind of pre-screen themselves. I've had mixed results with this. Some guys think it's hilarious and send me their "qualifications". Others send me notes saying that I'm an elitist bia and I don't know what I'm missing. (hint: I know what YOU'RE missing--a sense of HUMOR and likely a job, teeth, or appendages.) Still others send emails saying that while they don't meet the criteria, they think I'm very funny and they wish me luck.

I was talking to a girlfriend who just went through a breakup and the guy was a total loser so I told her about some of my qualification requirements. She laughed. I told her I was going to add a few more in her honor and write this blog. She laughed. So here we go.....this is directly from my online profile though I've removed some bits before and after.

BuddyRoo's Screening List for Internet Dating:

...When it comes right down to it, hereís what I think you need to consider before you contact me based on some of the dates Iíve been on:

1) You need to have a job. Iím serious. You need to be employed and bringing home a paycheck because hard as I might try, itís difficult for me to find someone attractive when they are unemployed.

2) Teeth are good. Please have all your own teeth or at least decent dental care. I canít KISS you if I think your teeth are rotting out of your head. Thatís just gross.

3) If you are missing a limb, please inform me ahead of time. Iím cool with that. But the thing is, when I offer to shake hands and you donít have one but have failed to mention it? Itís awkward. Really.

4) Please donít send me pictures of your brother/best friend/son/nephew. When we meet, Iím going to KNOW that you are not the same person. Trust me. Itís happened.

5) Be in shape. I donít belong to a gym. Iím still in shape. And yes, Iím 30. I realize that a lot of people think that when you get older, itís okay to get fat, develop a gut, and get flabby. But Iím not any of those. And I donít find those things attractive. No matter how much you think you have to offer, if you are not physically fit, Iím not going to be interested.

6) You need to have your own place. If you live with mom and dad, I can assure you, I am not interested.

7) PleaseÖ.if youíve been married 10 times and have 5 kids from 5 different women? Donít email me. I love kids. I realize people make mistakes and marry the wrong person. But Iíve never been married, I have no children, and I really and truly do not want to step into a bunch of drama. Most of my friends have done this and itís a nightmare. Iím sure youíre lovely but I just donít want to go there.

8) You need to have a life. Your own friends. Your own interests. There is nothing that is more of a turn off to me than a guy who has no hobbies or friends of his own. You MUST have some sort of ďguys nightĒ or hobby that you enjoy on your own and do not need me to be a part of. I am VERY independent and I do girls night out and have my own hobby. I need you to be a confident, independent person...

So those are my big 8. There are some others that I thought were simply implied global women rules, but as it turns out, one really shouldn't assume.

In addition, while perusing the "ads" today, I realized that perhaps some of the guys are a little confused about what women find attractive/intriquing/etc.

Allow me to add a few more to the list. Again, these all come from ACTUAL EXPERIENCES or PROFILES but they are not necessarily MY experiences.

9) Just say not to convicted felons. Especially those convicted of violent crimes. AND if their crime was using the wire tapped JAIL phone to call someone and threaten their life, they are not only scary but really really stupid. They need not apply.

10) If you are a registered sex offender, you need not apply. 'nuff said. I realize that registered sex offenders are people too--but seriously. It's like the horse market. There are so many well broke, gentle, sweet horses on the market right now--why would you pay good money for a nasty son of a gun?

11) If you are #9 and #10 and are living at home with your mom while you're on parole and can't take me out to a nice dinner if it's going to last longer than 9pm (when you have to be home so that your ankle GPS convicted felon tracker doesn't send a message to your PO)--you need not apply. Holy run on sentence batman. But seriously. I don't come up with this stuff on my own and I guess it needs to be said. You're not a catch. You're a plague to womankind. Go away.

12) If you doused yourself with baby oil, did 20 pushups to "pump up", and then set up your webcam to take a picture while you flex? No. That's just creepy. I can appreciate an attractive, fit physique. But that's just too much! Lordy!

13) If you are incapable of communicating in anything other than chat speak? No. "U R hot. I wunt 2 meet u." ???? What IS that? And why "wunt"? Is it really faster than "wAnt"? It can't be.

14) If you notice in my profile that I have horses and then regale me with your story about how you "once got bucked off (yeah right) but then you got back on and showed that horse who was boss (yeah right)" I'm probably not going to reply. Mostly because I know that if I put you on my dear sweet Chey and you start kicking and yanking her around that I'll have to kill you and dispose of your body. That's not how I want to spend a summer afternoon.

I'm sure there are more...but I just had to get this up for a friend today. Cheers!

October 2016

23 24 2526272829