Me and my helper

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist 

It is a good thing to have a helper. No matter what I do, she is right by my side to help however she can.

Just about the first thing I do each morning is put on my socks. The sock drawer is the bottom drawer of the dresser. All I need do is pull the drawer open and my helper reaches inside and chooses the perfect pair of socks for me to put on, brown, blue or black. It doesn't matter. They are perfect.

Socks in hand, I go over to my chair and sit down where it is easier to pull them on. Now that I am older, I believe that there is no need to risk injury doing the one-legged dance maneuver I used to do. My helper follows, and while I pull the sock up over my heel, she dutifully pulls on the toe. I believe that she thinks her pulling will help assure that my sock goes on straight. She doesn’t realize her pulling adds about 30 seconds to what should be a three-second task.

Once downstairs, I proceed to make the coffee. My helper is frustrated that she cannot assist with this task, but without fail, she relieves her frustration by taking every toy out of her toy box and tossing each one in turn as high as she can. Some land on the couch, others on the dining table, and one might even land on the kitchen counter. She finally settles down as Greg and I sit at the dining table to eat our breakfast. She lies on the floor between us. Somehow, she knows that the occasional tidbit will be offered for her gentle enjoyment.

After breakfast, I retire to the couch to enjoy my second cup of coffee. I scroll through the day’s events until I rise from the couch, my coffee cup empty. She knows that it's chore time, and after assisting as I pull on my boots, which means she runs off with one while I step into the other, she dashes down the hill ahead of me.

I call the pasture critters over to their feedlots and they come running. She dances beside me. She goes nose to nose with each critter through the fence. We fill the water trough together as she tugs on the hose. The critters contentedly eat, and then, critter food consumed, I let them out of their paddocks. They all line up at the fence for after-breakfast treats.

Of course, my helper assists. One treat for every other pasture critter equates to one treat for her. She sits by my side as I make my way down the fence, patiently waiting for her treats. Once all are duly treated, she remains seated by my side and looks up at me, imploring. She believes that I need to acquire more pasture critters so that she can receive more pasture treats. Seven critters results in three helper treats. Imagine the treats she could get if I had ten pasture critters, or twelve, or more.

We head back up the hill to get ready for the day's tasks. No matter if the day involves dismantling the sadly empty chicken run, pulling up the last of the summer's garden, or adding deadfall to the burn pile, she is right there to assist, tugging on fencing, running off with weeds before they make it into wheelbarrow, or running off with branches and toppling the burn pile. No matter how she helps, she always looks up at me, tail wagging, to let me know that she knows what a great help she has been.

Finally, once our day is done, I settle in on the couch to read or watch a show. Greg is in his chair. I sit on the couch. My helper climbs up on the couch cushions behind me and settles down with a sigh. Sometimes her paw rests on my shoulder. I can lean back and put my head on her belly. The evenings are chilly now, and her belly feels so wonderfully warm. She is the best pillow I could ever imagine.

Everyone should have such a helper.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.