Playing Poke 'Er. Not Nearly As Much Fun As Playing Poker.

Last Thursday, we went to our new favorite casino with my sister the ex-mayor's wife, and of course the ex-mayor. They're a package deal. One won't go anywhere without the other. Perhaps they're afraid they might wake up in a roadside motel bathtub full of ice with a kidney missing.

Anyhoo...they finished the day as winners, thanks to Sis hitting a jackpot. Farmer H lost a couple of twenties, and I lost $5 over half of what I took to gamble away. So...it wasn't a terrible day for me or Farmer H. My money depleted more rapidly than usual, and I was not willing to dip into the portion I'd planned for later. I kind of know how much I want to spend per hour, and stick to it.

With an hour still left before the dinner buffet opened, I headed for the poker machines. I haven't played them in a long time. It takes longer to lose my money on them, because I only bet the minimum, which is 25 cents per spin. Let the record show that I put my last (time period) twenty in that machine, and with Sis looking over my shoulder waiting for me to walk to the buffet...I cashed out $19.75. I could have left at $22 when Sis found me, but I told her, "Just let me play it down to $20. That's what I started with. However...I was talking to her, and accidentally hit the DEAL button. Still. I had played for an hour and only lost 25 cents. That's pretty good for Mrs. HM.

Which brings us to Wednesday's game of Poke 'Er, concerning Juno's big fat ear. When I was throwing out onion skins after dicing onions for a pot of soup, I saw that my Sweet, Sweet Juno's right ear had filled with fluid again. She was romping around on the porch, not convalescing like an invalid. She'd start to shake her head, then stop. At least she didn't list to the side when she walked. The ear had a healthy pink tint on the underside, but was definitely swollen near its limit again.

I sent Farmer H a text as soon as I got home from town. I knew he was back home from his earlier gallivanting, because the TrailBlazer was parked at the BARn, which had the big door open.

"Juno's ear needs draining!"

"Can you hold her"

"Yeah, I'll go put on my dirty clothes."

"Ok I'll be over in a minute"

I changed out of town clothes, into clothes that wouldn't matter if they were squirted with dog blood, or covered with burs, or picked up the smell of wet dog. And old shoes, too.

Farmer H brought the second needle he'd bought, rather than the one he'd rinsed out the day before. We lured the patient to the front porch with half a slice of Nutty Oat bread soaked in hamburger grease from the soup preparations. Jack did his best to disrupt the operation, but a scrap of the bread, and Farmer H's "encouragement" drove him away.

Juno was quite suspicious, even though Farmer H had hidden the syringe on the front porch pew. She followed me there, sniffed the grease bread again, really wanted it, but turned to slink away. As if we wouldn't notice her leaving against medical advice!

I put the bread on my knee, which lured her back. I leaned over as if to hug her, and got a firm grip around her belly, kind of lifting her front legs off the porch boards. Well. Miss Juno no longer wanted the grease bread, and became fidgety. A bit of sweet-talking made her eat the treat, as Farmer H stepped into place with his giant syringe.

Poor Juno whimpered as Farmer H stabbed her. Nothing came into the syringe, so he stabbed her again. Another whimper. Of course I was whispering sweet nothings into Juno's good ear, explaining that we were actually HELPING HER FEEL BETTER. Not sure if she bought it, or if she just heard "Wah wah wah" like a Charlie Brown lesson.

The second time was the charm, and the syringe filled halfway with watery dog blood. The ear collapsed considerable. Farmer H said to let her go, that a lot had come out, and with two holes in the skin, some more would drain slowly. I'm not sure if the needle hurt the most, or if Farmer H's grip on the swollen ear caused the whimpering.

Anyhoo...once we were done, Juno slunk around the porch to her house, leaving a small puddle of watery ear-blood at my feet. Which Jack investigate, and gave a lick or two. For her trouble, I went back through the house, and grabbed another half-slice of grease bread. This I tossed into Juno's house, where I couldn't see her in the dark (rainy day here in Hillmomba), but heard her feathery tail thumping.

"Here, Juno. You were a very brave girl!"

I'm saving some grease bread for bait on Friday. As Hick says, Juno will soon grow suspicious of grease bread. Maybe he should have HOS come back to assist the next operation.