Quote:
Dang. Really sorry about your back and can commiserate. I hope a double dose of Motrin and a heating pad work as well for you as they do for me. My grandmother always used to say that aging isn't for the fainthearted. I think I'm finally starting to get clarity on her point.
Your Bacchus reminds me of my horse, a Peruvian Paso named Mijo. When we used to let his buddy and him roam on the property, his buddy would be on the look out for the best long grass in the pasture area. Mijo, on the other hand, was always up on the porch trying to figure out how to get in the house. Fortunately, he never figured out how to turn the doorknob, but I'd always get a start when I'd come around the corner into the living room and see a horse head looking through the window. When Mijo started busting hose bibs trying to turn on the water, we had to put a stop to the roaming...
The two Appies who live next door keep trying to get in the chicken pen up there so they can be under the heat lamps; meanwhile, my biggest, fattest shorthorn cow keeps trying to reach the sheep's hay net. And the cats want outside! Everything has its aspirations, I guess?