Just What I Kneeded

What happens after a life-altering knee injury?

The Pyrs

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I was up at the farm this past weekend shearing sheep and llamas. Well, I don’t so much shear the sheep as I watch them get sheared. But the llamas? I shear those. We got 25 done this weekend, so that means we have only… 60 left to do. It’s going to be a long May.

I have a few pics and video of the sheep being sheared, but it’ll take me a while to put those together. In the meantime, I thought I might introduce you to two of the five farm dogs–the Great Pyrenees.

First up is August. He goes by “Auggie” though. He’s not called August unless he’s in big trouble. Which is roughly 27.5 times a day. He was born in Ohio, and he came to the farm in August. Hence, the very original name. I don’t honestly remember how old he is, but I think he’s somewhere around 4 or 5. Not terribly old, but approaching middle age for a large breed of dog. He’s very social, and he has an inherent need to be all up in your business until you pet him. And then when you’re done petting him, you might as well keep right on petting him because he’s not going anywhere.

Auggie has extremely selective hearing. So much so that we thought he was deaf. You can shout and shout as much as you want if he’s laying in the middle of the driveway, and he won’t even turn his head, much less move out of your way. But if you quietly say his name, and he thinks there might be something in it for him, he hears you loud and clear. Typical man.

Auggie. A Great Pyrenees Dog.

You can’t tell in this picture, but I got shear happy, and Auggie is now sporting a “summer cut.” He looks like a lion.

The other Great Pyrenees is Sheena. She’s the newest member of the pack; she just joined in the farm fun last week.

She’s a rescue. In her short 10 months, she was kept in a chicken coop and then adopted by people who kept her in a crate for more than eight hours a day. This is not the breed of dog for apartment living; they need room to run and play. They’re also livestock guardians, so they need a job. Sheena seems to think her job is to keep all the waterfowl in the water. She herds the wayward ducks down to the water and makes sure they dive right in. She’s learning quickly that this is not actually her job. She also appears to have selective hearing because she straight up ignores you until she has all the ducks in the water.

Sheena growled at me the first time we met. She’s kind of wary of strangers and motors and loud noises. But by the end of the weekend, I had her flipping over for belly rubs. I think we’ll be besties.

Sheena. A Great Pyrenees Dog.

She’s pretty proud of herself.

Physical Therapy Update

Not much to report here this week. I mentioned in the post last week that my PT and I have mutually agreed that it’s time to spread our sessions out a bit, so I haven’t been to physical therapy in more than a week now. It would seem weird, except it’s been a super busy week, and I didn’t miss it.

The first weekend I put 36.4 miles on the bike. This past weekend, I only put 20.5 miles on the bike because I ran out of time with so many other things to do. I think I’m done racking up the miles for a while now though. My PT had told me to keep the biking to a minimum until we figure out the IT band. I thought I’d just test myself a little bit to see what I could do because I wasn’t entirely convinced that the IT band was a problem. I mean, it has never been a problem before, so why would it start now?

Today changed my mind. I had a follow-up appointment with my orthopedic surgeon, and he mentioned the IT band during his exam. When he pressed on one spot on my knee, I jerked away because it was so sore. That, he said, was the IT band. So… once again, my PT was right. Damn it. I’ll continue with the foam rolling and stretching that she’s prescribed, and I’ll mind my p’s and q’s on the bike. For now.

Speaking of my OS, he was totally impressed with my VMO. He asked me to flex my quad, and he started with my left (good) leg. “Ok, good. Now do your other one.” I flexed my leg for all I was worth and popped my heel up off the table. “Wow. I think that’s the first time in two years that you’ve had a hint of definition there.”

Um, excuse me. What do you mean by “a hint?” That sucker is freaking HUGE.

Ok, not really it isn’t. But I’m pretty damn proud of it.

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Author: Laura

I have a fern I named Frankenstein. I like leprechauns, practicing kung fu moves on my dining room furniture, and pretending that one day I will move to Fiji. I dislike my neighbors' kids, anything that is chartreuse, and Ben Roethlisberger.

2 thoughts on “The Pyrs

  1. IT bands were the sour milk of my college athletic experience. If those hadn’t been so dang sore all the time, I might have actually been good!!

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