All's Well On the Teeny Tiny Farm

 Holy moly, it's been too long since we last spoke.  But not a lot has happened.  Besides holidays.  And the fickleness of Michigan weather.  Snow, ice, rain and now balmy temps.

I will say it feels so good to see Gabby displaying her normal behavior, all healed from her abcesses - yes plural.  Even in the rain and snow she is now first at the gate at mealtimes, as it should be.

Well, in transferring this video to the blog I'm finding a new technical development.  I just got a new phone last week, transferred all data from the old one and when I plug the phone into the PC to transfer photos/videos into my blog file, the new phone turns up empty (even though I can see the photos and videos on the phone).  I just used the old phone to retrieve this video.  This presents a serious hurdle for many applications.  Yikes!  I'd better figure this one out, although at the moment I'm clueless.   

I've told you before how goofy the chickens are when it comes to their water.  Always liking the donkey trough.  Here they crowd around their own waterer just because its outside and on the ground (during the swishing out the debris and refilling process).  So goofy.

I have to tell you I'm becoming partial to Ethel, for apparently no reason except she's a wallflower.  Letting everyone else step forward to get treats.

 So I'm always checking with her to make sure she has gotten a portion of treats, although the conversation seems a bit one-sided.

Pippi is simmering down, knock on wood.  I don't expect to have my boot attacked every time he's in the vicinity anymore.  And I need to get a current photo of him.
He and I have a little chat every night when all are snuggled in bed.  He allows me to stroke his back and tell him how pretty -- uh oh -- handsome he is.

So if I can get all the kinks worked out with the new phone (and new carrier) life is good.

 

 

Good Girl Gabby Glows

 Good news.

Gabby is no longer "broken".  No limping, right as rain for the time being.
The vet said we were on the right course with the poultice (thank you Fran from Crossroads Donkey Rescue) and were to continue.  The sad news is I had to pay $200 to find out if we had just stayed the course we would have been fine.

a happy face

Prior to getting our first snow, the word of the day was mud.  Everywhere.

The (early) snow helped with mud control but now we have the famous divots caused by muddy dips in the ground freezing.

St. Francis doesn't mind.

We got the last load of hay for the winter the weekend prior to the holiday.  Whew!  For a couple of geezers, getting a total of 60 bales was a bit strenuous.  Next year I'm prevailing upon the 35-year old youngster to come home from the other side of the state and help.

And to leave you with a smile, here's Sharone making his dinosaur vocalizations (sound up).

The Sagas Continue on the Teeny Tiny Farm

 It may be coming, sooner than we'd like.

The shootout at the OK Corral.

Pippi is in the full swing of roosterhood now, at six months of age, and Sharone isn't too pleased.  The hens aren't thrilled when Pippi decides to exert his manhood and usually squawk.  Sharone comes on the fly to check it out and tells Pips to back off.  I'm hoping it doesn't come to a real showdown when Pippi reaches a year in the spring.

I've probably said it before, but it stands repeating.  Sharone is the perfect roo.  Never bothers us, defends the girls, and is just plain handsome.

  Sharone in the middle, Pippi on the far left.

Yes, as usual donkey water always has, still is, and will forever  taste better than chicken water.

We're still treating the leg mites.  Amazingly it's working.  Rick holds while I slather on petroleum jelly and then dust with DE.  I'm actually seeing areas of nice pink legs.  Although some of the girls still have big "knots";  I have to wonder if they'll ever go away.  

Here's our process:  At 1:00 the girls gather in the porch waiting for free range time (oh yes, they know) so we try to let those who don't need treatment out.  Invariably some of the remaining girls wander into the run so then it's a matter of using a towel to herd everyone into the coop, quickly closing doors and shooing those who are left into the porch where its easier to catch them.  We do have it down to a science at this point.

We lost Stevie last Thursday.  If you remember she was the girl I took to the vet and treated for an infection.  I had been so pleased she seemed to make a recovery.

Little Stevie in 2022 when she first arrived with her buds

She was the last of the three white beauties

And then there's Gabby.  

When the soaking didn't seem to be working any longer, I checked with Fran at Crossroads Donkey Rescue and she suggested a poultice.  

After several days of no change, it was time to call the vet.  She's coming tomorrow.

Random farm scenes --

After a hard rain, the girls skirt Lake Luigi

Here's one of the famous wheelbarrow dumps.  It was quite full of manure, I walked away and upon my return found it tipped over with half the load on the ground.  In years past I could blame Luigi, now I don't know who the culprit was.  Balderdash!

When It Rains...

Hey teeny tiny farm gang
To be honest, I'm really beat and have to get up early tomorrow to work the election -- a loooong day.  So I'm going to sum this up relatively quickly.

It's been a week.

We went out of town for a long weekend the end of October and, of  course, Gabby came up lame again just before we left.  My farrier, who has known the donks for many years, said she'd swing by while we were gone and take a look.  Found nothing.  I asked the housesitter to keep soaking Gabs in the epsom salt water. When we returned she was looking good, and then she came up lame again... (wait for it) on the other foot.  Farrier out, but this time to trim.  A little heat but nothing else.  Again with the soaking.  Oh yea, and a terrifically weepy eye appeared with a tick on her eyelid.  Rick removed the tick, I gave her some warm compresses and waited a day to see if we needed a vet visit.  It cleared up nicely.

Farrier's advice --  just keep soaking.  

Round 1, after less than 5 minutes Gabs dumps the bucket.

Round 2, I set the bucket down to grab the halter and lead line and found Sugar drinking the epsom salt water.  A wee bit left.  Phooey, we're doing it anyway. 

A couple of days later I take a good look at one of the chicken's feet.  Crap crap crap.  Scaly leg mites.  Chicken feet should be smooth, not scaly and bumpy looking.  Keep looking.  Five of the six new hens are looking bad.  Could we have brought them home like this?  Could I have not noticed?  I'm guessing yes since our original crew look fine.  So now we're treating them.   For 2-3 weeks.

See a trend here?

To conclude here's Pippi (for whatever reason I now call him Pippi poops) showing off his newfound skills. 

Let's hope the election results do not decimate the country, AND, let's hope there are no more critter surprises.

Peace out.  

Are You Kidding me???

 It's happened all over again.

We now have another roo!  And it's Pippi!

I said to Rick a couple of weeks ago, do you suppose Pippi is a boy?  Based on his large size (hardly a pipsqueak anymore) and his feather features. Sure enough about a week later after morning chores, Rick came in and said you could be right.   Pips had been exploring crowing sounds.

OK, I just got six more girls so Sharone wouldn't be picking on one or two girls and now we've got another rooster!  Plus he's minorly aggressive with his ankle/foot pecking.

I just sent the Michigan Humane Society a message today, explaining the situation.  I asked if he (weird to refer to him as a boy) gets more aggressive or becomes antagonistic to Sharone, can he be returned to them.  Someone asked today if I wanted to try to rehome him through FB and I replied with an emphatic "no!"  Roosters are a dime a dozen and although he's getting annoying I don't want harm to come to him.  I don't think she understood my point of view...

Gabby Gets Owwie

 The saga began last Tuesday.  Gabby looked a bit off at breakfast but I wasn't terribly concerned.
Until later that afternoon.  She was head-bobbing lame.  Of course I picked her hoof and felt for heat.

Damn!

I talked to my farrier.  She suggested epsom salt soaks for a few days before calling the vet. 
Not knowing how cooperative Gabs would be, I dragged Rick out with me for the first soak.  Afterwards he was  able to pick her hoof better and out popped a stone.

Aha!  Stone bruise, not an abscess?

Keep soaking the farrier advised.
I kept at it through Friday and thought Gabby was walking close to normal.

And then we went out of town for the weekend.

I forewarned the house sitter she might be a bit off, but I did not ask her to continue the soaks.  Perhaps a mistake.

Last night upon our return when feeding at dusk she looked pretty owwie.  Well great.  So today I resume the soaking and she looks better.

What the heck!

I'll continue the soaking for the week.

Meet the New Girls!

 It's time to meet the new girls!

The transition was easier than I anticipated and they now follow the daily routine well -- let me knock on wood as I say that.  Well, I should clarify -- the first few minutes of togetherness was quite the hubbub.  Chest bumping (literally), much squawking and bully pecking, even from miss scaredy cat, Pippi!

Sharone has been in heaven from day 1.  More girls!
And because he has more girls to canoodle with, we've got better damage control, so to speak. 

Little Stevie's feathers are starting to grow back from Sharone's "harassment".  We're now at a good ratio with 10 hens to the big boy roo.

I've got names, but there's one I may need a little help with and would like your suggestions.

Let's start with Ethel (Merman).  So named as she was quite vocal early on.

Next we have Riley Rose.

But this is where I need help.  She's a little road runner, so I attempted to find two "R" names.  I started with Rhoda but wasn't happy with that.  Any suggestions?

Fluffy(2) is a beauty.  And this pic does not do her justice.

Fluffy, Olive, Ethel

Sharone, Olivia (Newton John),  Olive, and Ruby Dee(2)

I swear I almost called Olivia and Olive Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, but didn't want to be disrespectful.  You've got to look at their backs carefully to tell them apart..  And the difference between Storm and Riley Rose is all in the tip of their tails as is with Ruby Dee and Henrietta.  Also I can tell Henrie because she's always in my face jumping for treats.

Let's get a better look at Ruby Dee.  Here she is with Ethel.

So, for this brief moment, all is right with the world.