Two Roosters in a Stall

34 days.

That's how long it's been since I posted the last blog. I've toyed around with a few stories, but I couldn't bring myself to wrap them up and post them, not until today.

Every time I would start writing about the FSR kids camp or Katrina getting separated from her horse, or my trip to get Ruby from Texas, or how I actually printed brochures with "Let your Imagination SORE," I would see that picture of Jake chilling out on the couch, his mouth slightly open in that wonderful doggy grin.

To post a new blog meant taking Jake off the front page. I suppose in my subconscious, somewhere, I felt that putting up a new blog meant that my life with Jake was really in the past. And I wasn't ready to let go.

This morning when I arrived at the ranch, everything was quiet. It was drizzling a bit, and the dark sky and cool wind promised we could expect more than a drizzle at any moment. Since I was just coming to drop off brochures, I planned to be in and out fast before the sky opened up and I had to carry on with wet clothes. But as I turned to leave, Naysa nickered at me.

I was forced to head to the peppermint drawer.

While I was feeding Naysa's peppermint addiction, I suddenly heard a resounding

"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!"

I literally froze.

"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!"

I headed toward the noise.

"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!"

I stopped at an empty stall and slowly moved to peer over the door. There they were. Two roosters in a cage. They looked at me and cocked their heads to the side--no pun intended. Their big red combs flopped with the quick movement of their feathered heads.

I started to laugh. It was one of those laughs that comes from deep inside, the kind you know you can't stop. I just kept laughing. And then I laughed more.

Turns out the roosters were waiting for Janine's mother to come pick them up. FSR was just a short stop on their way to a new home. (In their cramped cage, I'm sure they felt like any of us do at the Atlanta airport.)

Life never ceases to amaze me. Somehow, on a rainy, miserable day, those two funny roosters made me realize it was okay to move on.

Rest in Peace, Jake. We still miss you. We always will.