Don't abandon your pets

Well this has been a strange week.  At work someone found a small kitten under the cars in the parking lot and brought it into our office.  We all couldn’t take a kitten home but we made it comfortable by feeding it and providing a litter box.  It was playing around the office and the boss thought it was cute and said maybe it could be an office cat.  But then a client came in and started talking about her 17 year old cat dying and we introduced her to the kitten.  Love at first sight and the kitten went home with her.

That was Tuesday.  Thursday I came home from work and a little dog ran up to meet me when I got out of the car.  Problem is it wasn’t any of my dogs.   It was chasing poor Frizzle my little yard rooster and I was worried that it would get my baby turkeys out in the yard.    I tied it up - no collar but he was a friendly little thing and after dinner we drove around the neighborhood asking people if they lost a dog.  No luck.

My instinct is that he’s a drop off.  Steve said he was outside a half hour before I came home and it wasn’t around then.    The dog is a little black and tan, wire coated thing, maybe a schnauzer-rat terrier mix.  Very loving, but a whole male, so he can’t come inside.  I didn’t see any fleas; he’s real thin but looks healthy.  I put him in the kennel outside with Sarah.  Sarah is really old but still active Jack Russell who has always been an outside dog.  She has a really large outside and inside run.  She loves male dogs, she’s a big flirt.  She can’t get pregnant and they are about the same size. 

I decided to name him Justin Bieber for now.  He’s not really happy outside but only cries for a short time after he sees me.   He wants to snuggle under my arm constantly.  He’s a little big for a lap dog, but not a big dog, just long legged and gangly.  We have called all the vets and put notices up at the stores but my bet is that an owner won’t be found.  I can’t keep a whole male here as some of my girls aren’t fixed and I can’t afford to neuter someone else’s dog.  So we’ll be looking for a home for him.

Then this morning- Saturday- I started outside to go do chores and stepped on a cat. It was lying on our porch steps in the sun, half dead from starvation I think.  The poor thing was skin and hair.  She probably didn’t weigh 5 pounds and was a large cat.  It was an adult female gray domestic shorthair, also with no collar.   I fed her of course and I thought she was going to settle down on the porch but later I saw her walking down the road.  She had a scrape on her back - I wonder if she was locked up somewhere and finally escaped and is trying to go home.  She ate well here so maybe I helped her.

I keep wondering if the two are connected, the dog and cat, someone’s pets that they dropped off.   Or maybe left behind in a house and finally escaped.  I just don’t understand people, there are so many places they could take unwanted animals and to think that dropping them off at someone’s house is the right thing to do is so stupid.  People- just because we are a farm don’t mean we want your unwanted pets!  And yes- one more does matter!    Dropping animals off in the country is about the dumbest, most inhumane thing you can do.  And it’s illegal too.

Bird watching country style

Bird watching at my house is as much sitting outside behind my barn watching my flock of assorted domestic birds as it is watching the birds that come to our feeders, woods and fields.  I get a lot of pleasure just sitting there after I feed and watching the antics in the barnyard.  Right now our flock consists of about 70 assorted birds so there is plenty to watch.

 The baby muscovy ducks are now out in the small pasture behind the barn with the guinea hens, the turkeys and our laying hens.   It’s been interesting watching them grow and feather out.  From our black and white parent ducks we got some barred black and barred chocolate, as well as a chocolate pied and more black pied.   They are fairly calm  ducks and they climb very well.  There was an old van bench behind the barn for sitting on but they have taken it over, climbing up and laying on it like puppies on a couch and fighting over who gets to sit on it.

 Two of the released mallard ducks, looks like 2 hens, come back regularly to eat too.  We see them flying down the road in both directions to visit the ponds of neighbors.

The guinea hens are a real hoot to watch.  They are not as smart as turkeys and that’s saying something.  There are seven of them.  I have been trying to sex them without much luck.  You sex them by listening to their calls but they all look alike so from day to day it’s hard to keep things straight.  

 The guineas go out the gate to the pond to explore under the trees out there.  The gate is on the far northwest end of the pasture.  However when they wanted to come back they usually went up the fence line on the pond side to the closest point to the barn and tried to go through the fence.  For a while I herded them back down to the gate twice a day, I thought they would learn but it didn’t happen.  I ended up cutting a hole in the fence so they could come back through.  They are also perfectly capable of flying up and over the fence but it doesn’t seem to occur to them.

 There are four barred rock roosters that were raised with the guineas and turkeys out there.  They will be butchered soon but for now they kind of hang on the fringes of things.  For a while they were the bullies, keeping the little ducks and guineas from eating but suddenly the guineas have turned the tables on them and chase them whenever they can.  Since the guineas don’t bother the ducks its better for them.

 The bronze turkeys are big enough to butcher and I need to get it done before I get too attached to them.  When I go out to sit in the pasture they come up and try to sit on my feet, pick at my clothes and try to take my wedding ring off my hand.   One is a tom and he gobbles back if I gobble to him then spreads his tail and struts.

 Our big red tom proved his worth.  He was so scruffy and half bare when we brought him home but he’s growing feathers and proved his worth.  Our darker turkey hen was sitting on eggs in my sweet corn patch and despite all odds hatched 10 babies.  I took 6 lighter colored ones away from her and put them in a brooder and left her to raise 4 darker ones.  I thought they would soon disappear but so far she has managed to keep all 4 alive, it’s been 10 days. 

 She hangs out with them in the garden and yard, well away from the other birds.  But she won’t come in the barn with them even though I left the front door open for her where she could get in without the other birds, even though it has rained several times.  I leave food and a flat water pan out for her down by the corn.   The babies seem to be growing well.   Her new night roosting spot is in the middle of my potato patch, which I’m not thrilled about. 

 
Last night I was watching the other birds, trying to interest the baby ducks in the wading pool we put out for them.  I could see mama turkey on the other side of the fence in the potatoes craning her neck to see what was going on.  Little turkey chicks appeared from under her and climbed on her back so they could see better.  And I didn’t have a camera!

 The bourbon red turkey hen is starting a new nest deep in one of my flower beds.  Now that we have a fertile tom she may finally hatch some babies herself.  These turkeys have been sitting on and off since January and have hatched chickens twice for us but they just won’t quit.

 I’ll talk about introducing the young hens to the old next time.

wish it would rain

The sun is trying to break through low clouds here- I wish it wouldn’t.  I was hoping for some rain last night, it’s been about 2 weeks now since we had any.  Just before we turned over to the 11 pm news last night a tornado warning flashed across the screen.  A small cell had popped up just to our north and west.  It was unusual that late at night with no watchs posted and it got the weatherman all excited.  A waterspout had formed over a lake and moved on to land making it a weak tornado but it quickly fizzled out before it got here.

 They had said there might be hail over our area from the storm and I went out in the dark to check things out. Although we had been leaving the light on in the back of the barn to attract the guinea hens and turkeys inside for the night they insist on sleeping outside.  The baby ducks which usually do come inside were outside also.  So I was glad there was no hail but rain would have been nice.

 Guinea fowl are strange creatures.  They are very noisy also.  I’ve learned that females make a two syllable call and males a one syllable call.  Otherwise they look pretty much alike.   Any little thing sets them off and they sound like a flock of strange geese or hoarse dogs yakking away. 

 Our young turkeys, destined to be holiday meals, have become very tame.  They follow me around the bird pasture and if I sit to watch the birds they come up and stand on my shoes and peck at me.  Big Tom the old turkey male pretty much ignores them.   Both of his adult hen friends are again setting on eggs, one in my corn patch and the other in a flower garden.  I have had to water those gardens but nothing makes them move.  I hope for their sakes they finally hatch some turkey chicks.  They have both hatched chickens for us but we took them away of course.

 We have sold off all of the excess hens, the frizzle babies are in their permanent home and the replacement hens are in the back horse stall with a screened opening on both sides for the old hens to get acquainted with them.  The coop wall shares a wall with the one horse stall.  The bottom half is solid but the top is covered with wire.  Last night when I was checking before the storm I saw that one young hen had gotten over the wire and was perched on a roost next to the older hens.  Instant integration!  But she was back home this morning with the other youngsters.

 We opened up part of the area around the pond to the horses since their pasture was dried out and not re-growing because it’s been hot and dry.  We put some hot wire up across the section leading to the apple trees and the gate to the pond because we wanted to let the ducks come and go and keep the horses out of the green apples.  Those buggers walked all away around the top edge of the pond which is a narrow, steep and brushy strip to get around to the apples.  We put hot wire on the other side of the trees so when they walk around they are stopped.  This morning Lily must have waded around the hot wire in the pond (which we extended 4 foot into the pond), because there she was on the other side. 

 The bank she climbed up was steep and she seemed reluctant to go back down so I ended up leading her through the chicken pasture all through the yard and around to her old pasture.  The brat better not be back there tonight.  The old saying that grass is always greener on the other side of the fence must have pertained to horses.

 I’ve been watering the garden but rain is always better.  Our corn is making ears and I can’t wait for some fresh sweet corn.  Baby potatoes are ready too.  I can’t keep up with the weeding because all my time is devoted to watering, water makes the weeds grow- it’s a vicious circle.  All the flowers are blooming early because of the heat - nothing will be left soon.

 Summer just goes by so fast.  

hot times

Well after stating that I intended to blog more often, I haven’t.  I could use problems with internet dial up services as an excuse but I’ll just say I didn’t follow through.  I did enter a 24 hour short story contest this week, and while I completed the story in no time, I had to sweat out whether my phone would come back on in time to send it.  It did and that is now behind me.

 It’s easier to stay inside and write now that the weather is hot and muggy and today- peppered with thunderstorms.  I need to move some chickens and ducks around in the barn but I don’t want to stress them and me in this heat.  We had all the meat chickens butchered a few days ago which leaves us with a little room to spread out the rest of the birds.  Some of those birds- at 49 days- were the size of small turkeys and I am not exaggerating.   It’s amazing how selective breeding has transformed these broiler birds. 

 When we first started raising meat birds it took about ten weeks - sometimes longer- to produce a nice bird from broiler stock.  Now about 18 years later it takes about 6 weeks- at least we could have butchered last week and had decent sized birds.  I saw a number of broilers at the butchering facility that were from the new “Red Ranger” meat stock.  They sort of looked like red barred rocks, or maybe New Hampshire’s a little.   I saw one butchered out and the carcass looked pretty good but I had a feeling the birds were a few weeks older than the broilers we brought in.  They are supposed to do well on pasture.

 I don’t think you save money raising your own chickens but they were every bit as tasty as store bought birds and they were fed a good natural feed with no antibiotics.  Plus the meat wasn’t pumped full of salty water before we cooked it.  Our 10 pound  roasters were all real meat, no additives.

 Well the barn swallows have left their nest and I turned the baby mallards loose to find their way back to the wild.  For a few days they never left the pond.  Now they are back up in the chicken pasture hanging out with Mr. Muscovy duck.  They seem less nervous and scared than they were in their pen.  The baby muscovy ducks have not been allowed outside yet, they are growing like crazy - but I gave them a big rubber horse pan to swim in.  Soon I am moving them outside to a pen.

 The guineas are starting to make their weird little guinea noises.  They too need to be turned loose soon.  The red turkey disappeared for most of the days last week and I had to hunt down her new nest.  It was right beside the road, under a small bush, a very unsuitable place.  I tried to move her and the eggs but that turned into a disaster of cracked eggs.  The dark turkey hen is sitting on a nest in the middle of the corn patch- a small bit more acceptable.  After a few days the red hen is sneaking off again.  We saw her coming out of one of the bushy garden beds I have so I suppose that’s the new nest spot.  She can stay there.

 I don’t know if the tom we got is doing his job or not, although I have seen them mating.  He is still a scruffy thing, with most of his belly bare.  Hopefully a few more weeks of good food and care will see an improvement in him.  The hens are egg laying machines though- as good as the chickens almost.

What is quite interesting is the baby silky-frizzle crosses which I understand are called sizzles.  They are turning out quite pretty although I can’t sex them yet.    They probably won’t lay well but I think I’ll keep a few.

Fishing on Father's Day

It’s Fathers day and you couldn’t have asked for a more delightful summer morning. After doing chores in the barn I checked the pond and saw fish jumping. At breakfast I convinced my husband it was time he went fishing again. He hasn’t fished much in the last few years. Our pond was without fish for a few years and he had mobility problems until he was able to get his electric wheelchair.


But today the stars were in alignment. The pond has fish and he has mobility. He also had a new fishing pole given to him by our son last Fathers Day. It was a cute little set up that folded into a pouch so you could fish anywhere. So after breakfast he started assembling it. The tying on of the hook was a problem- his eyes are worse than mine, so I took over. That’s not easy with my twisted fingers anymore. But we got her done.

Some worms were located. We made our journey to the pond, chickens and turkeys trailing us through the back pasture. I don’t fish, but I like to sit near water and watch for birds and other wildlife. The pond is deep and full this year. I wanted to make sure that hubby didn’t hit the controls accidentally on that electric chair and go flying down the steep bank into the pond.

In the morning there is some shade on the south bank from a maple that has finally grown big enough to do some good. We settled there. First thing he noticed was that the line was tangled on the reel. I took the reel apart and tried to untangle the fine line- but removing the line from the pole was required. That meant cutting the hook off. We checked the nearby bench and sure enough his old tackle box was still under it, with a rusty pair of scissors inside.

With the rusty pair of scissors I managed to cut off the hook then reassembled the reel. The untangled line was then rethreaded through the eyes on the pole and then there was that wonderful task of tying on a hook again. Next came the bobber. With the old tackle box in front of him he had the choice of a small bobber that came with the kit or a larger bobber in the old tackle box. He decided on the larger bobber.

A worm was finally threaded on the hook, he had to do that himself, and the line cast. Whoops, line was catching on a small protrusion of plastic on the reel. After a few frustrating tries to cast, hubby takes the scissors and scrapes off the protrusion. The line is cast, he’s finally fishing.

I wander away to the ponds edge farther west where the bank is low. Teeny tiny frogs are hopping everywhere I step, I have to catch one to make sure it’s a frog and not a spider; they are so small and black. Good thing the chickens have left, they don’t venture this far. But I do see the blue heron down here a lot in the evening - now I know why.

Bull frogs are “bonking” around me and when I settle into a chair by the water two big bullfrog heads emerge from the water, one on the right, the other on the left to watch me. Swallows are swooping over the water as well as big blue dragon flies. I see fish jumping from the water and a bobber landing near the spot.

The warm water next to the shore is filled with tadpoles, ones that will emerge much bigger than the tiny ones I have decided are spring peepers. A few small fish wiggle by and one huge bullfrog tadpole. I watch two chick- a-dees picking something off the autumn olive near the pond, must be bugs. A bird is singing in the taller shrubs behind me whose song I don’t recognize and I squint into the sun trying to see the bird.

A few casts later, I hear he has a bite. Then I hear the line is tangled in the weeds, and then I hear a muffled curse. The thin pole has snapped. Oh well, fishing was fun while it lasted.

A day to remember all right

After just under 2 inches of rain last night we woke up to a muggy day but
the sun was shining for a change. We had to pump out the crawl space again,
low spots in the yard are flooded again, and we'll never get some spots
mowed this year. Our pond is the fullest I have ever seen it. I saw fish
spawning near the shore, the yellow flag iris are in bloom and big blue
dragon flies are skimming the pond.

Flower smells are cloying in this humid air. The autumn olive by the pond
was overpowering. I could smell the sweet woodruff and lilies of the valley
mixed with lilac sitting on my porch. That was much better than the smells
of bloody feathers and fresh killed chicken I dealt with early this morning.

Yesterday morning I found one dead "teenage" chicken from a pen in the back
corner of the barn. It was right outside the door, the other chicks were
fine and I thought maybe it had escaped in the night and an owl or early
morning hawk had killed it. It was shredded and eaten pretty well. I even
suspected a stray cat or even the male muscovy duck that's guarding a hen on
a nest near the chick pen.

I closed up the back door of the barn last night even blocking the gap at
the bottom and hoped for the best. Didn't happen. This morning I found all
the beautiful young birds slaughtered, inside and outside the pen, a big
mess. Torn and shredded. Further more I found my sweet little silkie hen
who was sitting on a nest dead. My other little chicken Frizzle was ok, but
he probably ran from the killer. He has escaped death many times that one.

I was cleaning up and noticed my Jack Russell, Sarah going nuts scratching
at the wall that separates her inside pen from the loft steps. Sure enough
under the steps was a big coon, the vicious killer. It's dark and hidden
under there. I didn't want Sarah to get bitten up, she's too old, even
though she was game. So I grabbed a shovel and went for him. If I had went
back to the house for a gun it would have been gone, and shooting into that
area wouldn't have been wise.

I was mad, and I smacked him numerous times, bashing him wherever I could.
It was tough and fighting back, growling and snarling, but I had it pretty
penned in under the stairs. I tried to pin its neck to the cement wall but
it pulled away. After about 10 minutes of me beating it, it managed to get
by me and run out the door.

Now if any of you think this is cruel you don't know how nasty raccoons are.
He could have eaten cat food or chicken food. There was lots of food around
the barn. There was still bread on the floor that I had given the ducks
last night. He could have killed only one chicken to eat. It wasn't
hungry. He was just damn mean.

I have 3 brooders full of chicks still, laying hens, 2 sitting turkeys and a
sitting duck in the barn, which if I hadn't beaten him hopefully to death,
he'd be back to get. Raccoons kill for the fun of it. They make terrible
bloody messes with what they kill. I have known them to eat the feet off
chickens or bunnies they couldn't pull through a cage or get into. They
carry rabies, distemper, roundworms and other nasty diseases. They are
vicious animals. In the woods where they belong they are fine, and there is
plenty of wooded land around here. But I don't want them in my barn or
around it.

If the one I beat doesn't crawl somewhere to die I hope he stays far away
from here. If I had the pitchfork handy I may have known that my birds were
safe. We are going to put a couple of the dogs up in the loft when it cools
down to see if there are any more up there, like babies. I don't know what
I'll do if I find babies. I hope that was the only one.

Loving the swamp

Swamps and marshes and little ponds have always held a certain fascination
for me. They teem with wildlife; sitting quietly by a wetland area you'll
see all kinds of birds, a host of water creatures and even larger animals.
As a girl I frequented swamps by walking down the railroad tracks, sometimes
with friends, sometimes with just a dog at my heels. For a long time these
swampy areas were forbidden to me so there was also the thrill of doing
something "wrong."

As I got older and my parents less vigilant I spent several evenings a week
making the trek down the tracks to sit on the banks of a small pond and roam
the marshlands behind the Junior High I went to. I liked to go alone, the
swamps were my place to think and escape from a home crowded with siblings.

One of the selling points for the house that my husband and I bought here in
the country was the fact that it had a pond and also a bit of marshy woods.
The pond was newly dug and glaringly devoid of natural wetland vegetation.
The previous owners didn't make the wisest choices in the site selection and
digging of the pond. The banks were steep and the clay sub soil had been
pushed up over the area around the pond, giving grasses and other plants a
hard time taking hold.

We worked hard to stabilize the banks and stop some of the erosion that was
happening. At first we followed the previous owner's instructions about
adding blue dye to keep out algae and for the first two years we often swam
in the pond. You could feel the little seeps of cold ground water welling
up under your feet as you walked on the muddy bottom.

The pond was stocked with bluegills and bass and the grandchildren loved to
fish there, pulling out stunted bluegills which we allowed them to feed to
the chickens. Some nice big bass were hooked by my son and husband fishing
there. There were frogs, tadpoles, and turtles in residence.

Over time things have changed around that pond. Cattails grew, the natural
vegetation filled in along the banks. We stopped swimming in the pond.
Dye was no longer added. Trees grew up around the pond, making it much more
natural looking but also sucking up tons of water in the heat of summer.
There are poplars and willows, white pine and spruce, river birch, maples
and sycamore. There are fruit trees and a redbud on the south side and a
tangled wind break of lilacs, spirea and forsythia.

The fish all died one winter, too much time under snow covered ice depleted
the oxygen in a pond which regularly went into winter at a low water level.
I knew the fish were gone because the water teemed with tadpoles that
spring. For several years we left it fishless, last year we once again
added some blue gills and also a couple koi.

The bluegills managed to spawn last year, there are tons of tiny fish this
spring but I haven't seen the koi. Maybe they are still there; the pond is
very full this spring.

But the best thing about the pond is that I have a thinking and wildlife
watching spot I feel completely safe sitting in and don't have to walk far
to get to. With all the natural vegetation maturing now the pond area teems
with life. I can sit and watch to my hearts content.

We have of all things, a king fisher who has hung around the last 2 years
and I saw again this spring. There are flocks of yellow warblers that nest
around the pond with the red winged black birds. A night heron nests every
year in the marshy woods behind the pond and scolds me as he departs from
the pond as I arrive. Chick-a- dees frequent the woods too and flocks of
tiny goldfinches flit around the high grass areas.

A great blue heron regularly visits and tree swallows nest in our remaining
bluebird houses and barn swallows in our barn. A Virginia rail and
killdeers often scuttle along the pond banks. Crows and red tailed hawks
nest in our woods behind the pond and are frequent visitors. Their babies
are very noisy in the early summer. Frogs of all kinds call from the banks
and we have a plethora of small turtles.

If I quietly sit on my redneck bench, an old van seat, I often see deer
grazing on the other side of the pond. Rabbits are bold, often playing
within 10 feet of me. We lost our barn cats to an epidemic of cat distemper
two years ago and the rabbits have flourished. From time to time we have
muskrats- which swim around in the evenings with just their heads showing.
They usually can't resist coming up to the dog kennels for dog food and
getting killed.

I have watched the antics of ground hogs many times. One large one would
climb into the low branches of some shrubby willows by the pond and stretch
out on limbs to sleep. It always amazes me he can climb up and do that. I
can watch our own horses grazing near the pond too and this year I added a
pretty pair of muscovy ducks. Our free range chickens sometimes venture
down to the pond, but seem a little uneasy there, and it probably isn't the
best spot for them.

It isn't always easy keeping up with a country place, especially as we get
older. But the fact that I have this quiet, safe Eden to sit in makes it
all worthwhile. I feel young again, scouting for pollywogs and identifying
birds. Hopefully I have years left to enjoy it.