He Loves Me, He Loves Me NOT!

The verdict is in.  While I feel there was a time that Bogart loved me.

It seems those days are long gone.  Gone are the days of Boggie sweetly following me around the yard, curiously watching my every move.  Oh, those were the days.

Now (well since yesterday), I must be brave to walk through the yard, and always on the lookout for "Big Bad Bogart".  He has gone on the attack.  

It really is quite the site I am sure.  

I can just hear the neighbor boy calling to his mom, "Mom, come look!  I think the rooster is gonna win this one."

He loves me, He loves me NOT...

It is a sad time for me. I am trying to come up with a plan to renew our friendship.  If it doesn't work, I see long days for Bogart living in the dreaded chicken tractor.  Of course then I will have to build Lillie a new playground as she loves life in the tractor.

Thankfully there are others in the barnyard who are beginning to understand me and my lovable quirks.

Gypsy and her "Betty Davis Eyes" follow me from a distance these days.  Gypsy loves to come right up to people.  She assumes all people love horses, especially people who own horses.  I have had to explain to her that that isn't always the case.  While Rodi and the kids love horses, they TERRIFY me.  Oh yeah, like shake in my boots terrified.  It takes every ounce of bravery in me to walk out into that pasture when the horses are nearby.  It seems silly I know.  I am not sure where the fear comes from, but it is there.  I think Gypsy has finally realized that while I love her, I must love her from a safe distance.  She is truly a beautiful horse and when she runs through the pasture with her tail held high it is the most amazing site.  A site I love to watch from the safety of our deck.

Of course her recent distance could be due to her great fashion sense.  I mean it takes a lot of courage to be seen socializing with this:

Yep nothing says fashion like rubber mud boots and an apron worn outdoors.

Do you see the mud smeared on the glass section of the door?  Husker swears he wipes his paws before knocking to come back inside.  I say the proof is on the window.  Seriously that snow-melt has left us in a muddy mess.

I am off to begin my quest in re-friending Bogart.  Any advice would be deeply appreciated.