A three weeks ago bad storms blew through our area bringing with them a couple of tornadoes. One of them passed overhead wreaking havoc in our little pasture. Several trees had their limbs torn off, small branches and twigs lay everywhere and the roof over our stalls was blown half way to the front gate, about six loping strides. Our mistress has spent days picking things up and throwing them on a pile.

We’ve been able to cope with, Ziggy and I. Our coats have grown longer, and there is plenty of windbreaks to hide behind, but I do hate getting wet when it is cold! Of course, cold in South Texas isn’t like cold in Michigan or Montana; but then again, we’re not used to that kind of cold down here on the Gulf Coast.

I know our mistress is busy cutting down trees off the surrounding fence, but I do wish she’d hurry up and get the roof back over our stalls. [Sniffle]