Spotlight on Gunner

 Since we last spoke our household has encountered a couple of issues.

I came down with a case of the stomach flu to outlast all stomach flus.  It was a doozy for sure.  Christmas prep disappeared, but my yoga training helped me to take it in stride.  Why get kerfluffled if the tree didn't go up on the normal schedule.

The bigger issue concerns our senior dog Gunner.  He's 13 years old, give or take, and symptoms of distress reappeared after several months of keeping them under control with CBD.  We've had several conversations with our vet to figure out the best course of action and have recently introduced a pain med in addition to the CBD.  So far so good, knock on wood.

So today you get a better look at Gunner, our ever happy go lucky tail-wagging little boy.

About 10 years ago we were thinking about a companion for Dudley, our super smart lab mix.  I happened to see a dog featured through a rescue group, Heavenly Paws, with the name of Gunner.  The name alone drew me in.  About 30 years ago we rescued a pointer mix by the name of Gunnar and she was such a very good girl.  I thought, holy cow, another Gunnar!   

Gunner had been picked up on the streets of St. Clair (or maybe St. Clair Shores) and was on the verge of being euthanized when Nancy S. of Heavenly Paws swooped in and scooped the little boy up.

They thought he was a rottweiler mixed with Bernese Mountain dog.  He had heartworm, an inverted eyelid and had not been neutered.  (our guess is when the owner discovered he had heartworm, out he went)  So we said sure!

Compared to super duper smarty Dudley, Gunner's brain power paled, but that little stub of a tail (yes it had been docked) would wiggle over just about anything.  It still does.  

At the time, Gunner weighed about 60 lbs, Dudley weighed in at about 80 lbs so Gunner was known as Peewee.  If truth be told, Gunner has put on more than a couple of pounds since then.

Gunner always looked to Dudley for guidance in new situations.  For instance when the two went to the dog sitter's together for the first time, Dudley was so exuberant about arriving, Gunner knew it was OK and felt comfortable joining in the canine fun.

After Duds died in 2017 and we adopted Faith in 2018, it was Gunner's turn to be the leader.

  So now, we don't know how much time we have with the little boy.  But he will be loved every minute.

Until Next Week

 Tonight's blog post will be brief.

We live less than an hour away from Oxford High School, the site of the country's most recent school shooting.  Because of that proximity we've been privy to more detail about this horrific incident, more so than we have in previous school incidents in other states.  It just doesn't feel like the right thing to do to try to make you smile about this or that chonkey behavior.  

So we'll take a break and return next week.

In the meantime keep your socks up, smile at your neighbor, kiss your kid, kiss your dog and pass the kindness forward every day. 

'Til next week.

Janet

Pumpkins, Suet, and Donkey Poop

 Today's teeny tiny farm vignettes seem to focus more on the clucks.  I know, I know, I've heard it already from the donks.  They need more column space.  I'll work on it --  next week.

I''ve told you how I like the caretaking philosophy of Fresh Eggs Daily.  I read her posts often and had a "duh!" moment in one of her more recent stories.  She talked about dumping chicken feed, supplements and nutritious add-ons in a garbage can.  Now why hadn't I thought of that!  Instead of lugging the small chicken feed can to the horse trailer where feed is stored, why not use on of the garbage cans in the hay aisle which hold over 50 pounds.  So I mixed my three chicken feeds and the one supplement I'm using at the moment into the can.

  Sweet Pea inspected the final mix for quality control.

It is 1000 times more convenient to refill the small can from inside the barn.

I took these photos before our snowfall Thanksgiving weekend.  Using pumpkin halves after the chickens have enjoyed the seeds and pulp to hold seed and Grubbly treats.

.

This one was included simply to reveal the gorgeous coloring of JoannieLu's black feathers

And of course there's the inevitable photobomb

I haven't yet made the coconut oil suetblocks -- have to get to the local feed store for the bulk shelled peanuts -- but I put a commercial suet cake in my new nifty holder.  I only saw two of the hens taking any interest, but suddenly the holder was empty, with the latch open.  Now what one minute, how did the clucks do that.  The reason I got the cute version is it appeared more durable and the catch was stronger.

For my next photo, be forewarned, if you're squeamish about donkey poop, avert your eyes.

Only in the winter do the girls use the salt bowl as a toilet

We've had the talk over and over and yet I still arrive in the morning to this sight.  I wish one of you, dear readers, would come over and try your luck at a donkey lecture.

And here's a donkey in heaven.  All alone enjoying dinner hay without two bullies trying to shove her out.  I can just hear Gabby sighing in contentment.  (the other two were still lapping up their small bit of Equine Senior)

Finally a little birthday scene.  I had one of those pesky birthdays last week and Rick got me a grow light for the plants wintering in the sun room.  And voila, it was set up today.  Perhaps the plants were sighing in contentment as well.

With the remote in hand, I announced "lights on!" and "lights off!" about five hours later.  It's the small pleasures.

Breakfast Delights for Everyone

Sometimes I am smitten by the views on our teeny tiny farm.  Perhaps the beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but yes, at times I am smitten.  With the simplest of views.

Morning Rise and Shine

 

Mornings mean tending to the donks immediately, if not sooner.  They can be relentless in their demands for breakfast.

Spice takes a moment mid-meal to make sure my phone is not a treat in disguise.  Its always best to double check.  Sorry Spicie.

And then its time to tend to little chickie chicks who can get pretty darn vocal when they think  breakfast is being delayed.

Although treats don't come until afternoon for the flock, I have to show you the hot mess I recently made.  They swooned over the combo of banana and scrambled egg with spinach.  

 My next project is making suet cakes for the girls using coconut oil instead of grease.  My plan is to include peanuts, oats, and raisins.  

There have been three escapes recently during afternoon free range time for the clucks.  Free range means not leaving the donkey yard and pasture.  Clearly I need to send out yet another memo to the hens.  The three new girls have delighted in roaming beyond the defined boundaries.  Thankfully they continue to arrive back at the gate when I return two hours later.  Like clockwork.  The first time it happened I was perplexed at to how they escaped, but the second two episodes were clearly my fault.  On the second occasion I stumbled through thorny thickets to shoo them back in and finally decided the cuts being sustained were not worth it.

Today it happened again.  Yet again my fault, I neglected to put the barrier across the gate.  When I discovered my error and went to the gate to rectify the situation, Etta was standing there contemplating the escape she could have easily made but chose not to.  The three little girls apparently are the hooligans of the bunch.

* * * * * Say Yes * * * * *

It's the perfect time of year to incorporate this yummy Sweet Potato Smoothie into your day.  A little bit of turmeric gives it a little kick, but also provides a bit of anti-inflammatory goodness.  It really is like having a bit of pumpkin pie in a glass.

 

Fall Molt, Shavings, and *&!* Neighbors

 Happenings this week --

Without revealing an indiscreet amount of detail (much as I'd enjoy doing) I can say I had a quite unpleasant one-sided interaction with The Neighbor.  If you've been with me for a while, you know who I mean.  We disagree on adequate animal care in so many ways. 

On this particular afternoon I was throwing a handful of sliced carrots to two of her cows and a couple of goats.  In the midst of this quiet activity, a screaming voice is heard telling me to quit feeding the animals!!  The reason given (still screaming) isn't relevant to this story, but goes along with our divergent ideas on animal care. I admit I haven't been spoken to like this in... maybe never.

So the next day I had to say no to these adorable faces.  And told them the *itch wouldn't le me give them treats.  I can't tell you how hard it is for me to not run counter to good judgement and throw carrots.

Weather-wise, it was a beeuutiful day today.  So whether the girls have completed the fall molt or not, it was a good day to clean out the coop.  Feathers of assorted color have littered the floor for a couple of weeks now.  To counter the stress of the molt I've been upping their protein snacks (mealworms Grubblies, sunflower seeds, etc.) and have , for the first time, introduced chick feed into the mix for the duration of the winter.  I now mix regular organic feed, organic starter feed and a third feed that has more whole grains. 

The girls always enter a freshly cleaned coop slowly and carefully, taking in the new blanket of shavings on the floor. 

On the subject of coop floor materials, I've read shavings are not always advisable because of the dust factor.  I don't care for straw and some of the other options are beyond my budget.  For you chicken keepers out there, what do you use?

It's also that time of year that earns me a bad rap with the donks.

The pasture is now closed for the season until the end of next May.  Today while I was cleaning the coop, I opened the gate and they were allowed the run of "the compound" - the fenced area surrounding the house.  Little buggers were back in an hour asking for lunch.  In years past they would wander at ease for at least a couple of hours.  Don't know what was up today.    

Scenes From a Teeny Tiny Farm

 Continued rain has caused the donkey yard to become a sloppy, muddy mess.  Donkeys, chickens and people are all slogging and slipping through the stuff.  Sometimes I feel like I'm living in these boots!

The good news is there's no rain on the horizon for the rest of the week so cross your fingers it dries up.

The rain did its job of filling any and all receptacles.  Including the metal chicken waterer that is waiting for cold weather, warranting the heater (hence the need for metal).  Our original metal waterer finally bit the dust earlier this year and this new one is harder than heck to slide apart.  I got tired of struggling and turned to the plastic one (yuck) for the time being.  Anyway, it's been sitting outside the gate and when the new little girls snuck out they stopped for a drink.

They've lined up nicely in order of color.
From left to right:  Violet, Jewel, Henrietta.

Soggy Spice with her Flying Nun ears

Sometimes you just catch that perfect photo -- Sugar Booger

And sometimes it's time to pause during chores for a moment to look around, or up, and take note of the wonder

Chicken Antics

 It seems Peggy Sue needs a spa day and I hadn't realized it until recently.  How could I have missed the signs?

I took this photo to show you the girls digging in to spinach and pumpkin and to my horror instead got an eyeful of dirty butt.  Coincidentally we just had a spa day for one of the black birds.  I think I've mentioned the embarrassment of not being able to tell them apart.  There's Joannie (Baez), Lulu and Etta James.  I used to be able to differentiate Etta by her smaller size and browner feathers.  But now I can't tell anyone apart!  Anyway JoannieLu (as I've come to call each of them) had quite the dirty buttee so Rick and I performed gymnastics trying to corral her to plop her in a pan of epsom salt water.  She was not enthusiastic.  But she does have a cleaner derriere.  Now it's Peggy's turn.  I'm waiting for the warmest day of the week and I think Pegs will be easier to catch.

The girls always enjoy their Sunday treat of tearing apart a flake of straw to get the chaff.
I've told you Violet a-d-o-r-e-s me and there she is, stuck to my side.

And then there's Fluffy.  A unique personality all to herself.  Her night-time roosting spot was always on the top of the yellow door, but lately she alternates between the yellow door and the interior yellow window.  Sometimes getting down in the morning for breakfast is a bit of a problem.

I've mentioned that none of the girls used the ladder and tree limb I so graciously provided in their run.  Lo and behold the "new" girls are perching there.  Yes, I still call them the new girls although they joined us Memorial Day weekend.

Huzzah!

 

   

Tales of the Tail

 Donkeys are not fortunate enough to possess the long flowing luxurious tails of a horse.  (And their manes are pretty sparse too.)  But those shorter sparser appendages do have a tale to tell.

I have observed two primary functions.

In the warm weather, a donk's tail is the most important tool in fly relief.  Well, that and a skin "shiver" to shake them off.  And of course there's the mouth grab.  So in the summer, those tails will be on active duty almost constantly.  Exactly why I always spray fly repellent on tails as well as legs.

I've had friends meet the donks, see the tail wag and react as one would to a dog.  They'll assume the donk is happy.  Not so.  The comparison doesn't hold.

If one of the donks is getting upset with another, one of the body signals is a very rapid movement of the tail.  A word to the wise, stand back.    

Sometimes there is just a leisurely swish.  And to be honest, that one I'm not sure about.

My intent was to show you another donk video from August but that plan went all kerfluey.  I recently got a new phone, all photos were transferred but try as I might I can't transfer that video from the phone to the blog.  When I see my computer consultant next, I'll bring it up --  yea, you're correct, it's my son...

Huzzah(!), I gave it one last attempt and had success.

Just ignore the ridiculous voice in the background.

Donkeys enjoy wild grape leaves

 *  *  *  *  *  * Say Yes *  *  *  *  *  *

 I tried a new vegan recipe last night.  It looked so promising.  But it got less than stellar reviews from my dinner companion so I shan't be sharing it.

Instead let me show you one of my new favorite canned soups, for an easy lunch.

It isn't labeled as vegan, but when I examine the label, I'm not sure why not.  So I'm calling it vegan.
And it's quite tasty. 

Happy eating.

Good and Bad and Hope at the Coop

 What's new at the chicken coop, you ask.  Well let me fill you in.

Last week we took a mini vaca to a spot about four hours north of our home in Michigan, Charlevoix.  While gone, the jim-dandy housesitter, Jess, texted to say a huge gob of insulation had fallen from the ceiling of one side of the chicken coop.  What the heck??  

Jess did a thorough job of getting that mess away from the hens, thank goodness. When we returned, that was one of the first tasks Rick jumped on.  No idea how/why it happened.

Handyman Rick also installed a new little chicken door that can be used when the girls are out free ranging.  If they need to get back in the coop.  To lay an egg.  Sometimes those needs are urgent.  Ask the girls.

   And, if one of the girls is in a nesting box when the rest of the flock go out for free range time, they're now not stuck in the coop for the duration.  They can hop out the door and join the gang.

As I was cleaning out a long-forgotten box in the house, I came upon prayer flags.  Perfect for all of us at this point in time, including my well loved hens.

 If you're like me, you've encountered a lot of ill will/hostility/finger pointing in the last few months. I think we can all agree negativity has permeated the air.   It's been somewhat brutal.

 Prayer flags can help clear that air and replace it with the positivity we all need.

Peggy Sue and her Eggshells

 Hold onto your hats, there's a sexy topic headed your way.

Eggshells.  Oh yea.

Hopefully you all know that because today's chickens have been bred to lay "too many" eggs, this abnormal egg production has taken its toll.  One of the effects is to deplete calcium levels in hens' systems.  Most commercial feeds add oyster shell, but I like to complement that with the girls' own eggshells.

For the longest time we simply kept the shells in a designated bowl on the counter, let them air dry and then I'd smash them up.  But this summer that didn't work well at all; I'm only guessing it was the unusually extended humid weather we had.  I've now taken to baking them in the toaster oven.

15 minutes at 250F

Why the toaster oven -- use less energy is my motto.

I'm sure your next question is do the chickens actually eat the shell pieces.  Probably not all, but some of the girls actually wait for me to put the shells in.

Peggy Sue loves her eggshells.  There are three feed containers, one a small rubber bowl.  Usually in the morning I pick that bowl up, place it on the shelf and put feed followed by shells in the bowl.  Pegs can hardly contain herself waiting for the bowl to come back down to the ground and hops up onto the shelf to have the shells all to herself.  Sadly I tell her she has to share and the bowl goes back down.

*  *  *  *  *  *  Say Yes!  *  *  *  *  *  *   

Blueberry Lemon Bread

This vegan version was pretty darn deelish.  Clearly I didn't frost it, who needs more sugar, right?
One word of advice -- follow the directions for the amount of blueberries to use.  After putting the 1 cup in I said, oh that's not enough and added more.  Stirred.  Added a few more.  Too too many.  In spots the blueberries were barely held together by batter.

Follow the recipe...

Bits and Pieces

 Happenings on our teeny tiny farm.

In random order.

Our friend, Jan, gave me the secret to his cherry tomato success a couple of years ago.  Info on the two varieties he cultivated and where he bought the plants.  Honestly when he'd offer us some I'd eat them like candy.

Backstory: we had given up planting tomatoes a few years ago.  We tried in a bed and the plants withered.  Rick's sister diagnosed it as a virus in the soil.  Then we tried in large pots with new soil.  Same thing happened.  No more tomato plants for us.
Then this year someone told me about an Earthbox.  The real thing that intrigued me was the inclusion of a material that covered the soil.  Kind of like a hair net but clearly denser.  I thought if spores of some kind were drifting in from the woods into the soil, this might help stop them.  So I ordered one, went to the local farmer's market and purchased one plant of each variety.

Holy smoke.

They are now going gangbusters.

 This is from about a month ago before they turned into a total jungle.  I also planted three full size plants in those same pots I mentioned with new soil.  The cherry tomatoes in the Earthbox are doing much better.

Allow me to model the new apron I discovered at an Artisan Market in Ann Arbor (about an hour south of us) with friend Bev.  It was labeled a craft apron but with its multitude of pockets it's clearly an egg apron for me.  I always need pockets when I go out to tend to the critters and sometimes a pair of shorts (or jammies) lets me down and is pocketless.   

Remember at the beginning of the summer I put an old wooden ladder in the chicken run with some branches arranged for the hens to perch on.  And no one was buying it?  Well, what do you know the little girls started trying them out once they were integrated with the big girls.  The big girls still ignore my creative handiwork.

For a brief moment we're moving from chonkey-land to our house.

Our living room was waaaay overdue for a paint job and for the first time in 35 years we hired it done.
ta-da...  Wow, I could get used to someone else doing all the work!

 

Before this most recent hot spell we had some beautiful weather.  Dry, not humid, mid-70's.  Kind of perfect.  It was a good opportunity to sit out on the driveway with the donks to let them munch on long grass from a different vantage point.  They loved it.

Gabby has been bugging me since to do it again but for the moment it's just too darn hot.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Say Yes

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Can't remember how I happened upon someone's suggestion for a sweet potato smoothie, but whatever it was I was prompted to search for a recipe.

This is darn darn good.  And filling.

Sweet Potato Smoothie

I

 

Goldie Crosses the Rainbow Roost

 I'm so tired of reporting yet another death on our teeny tiny farm.

We lost Goldie sometime overnight on Saturday.  

And of course I have been plagued with the woulda, coulda, shoulda's.

So many darn things can go wrong with these little hens that I feel overwhelmed with storing all the scenarios in my head.  

On Saturday night when I locked up I saw she had deteriorated significantly through the day (we had been out of town for about seven hours) and was afraid she might not make it through the night.  And indeed she did not.  When I entered the coop on Sunday morning all the girls were abnormally subdued.  Those who have been long-time readers may remember when Dottie was fatally attacked by a hawk, I came upon the scene with the remaining girls encircling her.  All quiet.  Clearly the chickens have their own way of dealing with death amongst their flock.  

Goldie was one of the four girls we adopted through the Michigan Humane Society in August 2019 who had been rescued from a hoarding situation in Detroit.

Golda-mold (my pet name for her) had appeared lethargic in June and we administered an epsom salt soak and wormer.  She pepped up and I happily noted she was talking up a storm on a daily basis. 

Clearly we didn't fix the problem.

She was always somewhat of a loner, although she'd hang out with Fluffy (also one of the four) from time to time.

But always snuggled up with the rest of the big girls (next to Sweet Pea she was physically the largest girl in the flock) when it was time to get ready for bed.

On Saturday night when I returned to the house, in my upset state I said to Rick that I would not continue with chickens past the current group.  Done.  Tired of seeing them die.  As of this writing, to be honest I don't know if I've changed my mind.

Violet Becomes a Love Muffin

 First and foremost I'm happy to say integration of the little girls continues to cruise smoothly, mostly.  There's a bit more bickering than usual, but keep in mind there's always bickering.  You all know where the term "pecking order" came from.  And when it comes to food, nobody likes to bicker better than a bunch of chickens.

Violet is turning out to be a little love muffin.  She likes to be around me, often underfoot -- literally.  I have been put off balance on more than one occasion when she appears directly under my foot.  Amazingly she tolerates me picking her up and stroking her; this has been unheard of with our other chickens until they've been well established.

Violet and Sweet Pea are turning into my two executive assistants during morning chores

Two nights ago when I tucked everyone in for the night, the three little girls were in their chosen spots for bed and I was giving Violet a little lovin'.  Whomever was next to her apparently felt I was taking liberties and pecked me!  I had to laugh.  Don't know if it was Jewel or Henrietta.  By the way I think I'm getting better at telling the three girls apart.  Mostly by the amount of white on their tails.

We had a brief visitor to the house recently.  A friend, who happens to be a monarch butterfly expert, brought me a chrysalis that she expected to a transform in a few days.  I had it in the kitchen window to keep an eye on the development.

  

My friend told me what changes to look for and gave me a timeframe, but I wasn't seeing it.  Suddenly yesterday the beauty appeared.  From a simple photo my friend identified her as a female.  I took her outside where she tested her wings, then was still, then tested her wings again.  I was worried because it was going to dip down to 50 degrees overnight.  This morning she was still clinging to her little stick.  I'm guessing it was about 24 hours before I saw she had disappeared from our deck, launching on her new stage of life.  It was surprising how protective I felt after only having her in our "custody" for a few days.

   

And now for your amusement, I give you Sugar's version of intermittent windshield wipers.

    

Bits and Pieces

 My normal posting on Monday was waylaid; Nature saw fit to send a tornado quite close to us on Saturday evening.  No power and then no internet.  We were back up far more quickly than I would have anticipated so I thank all those workers.  Quite a bit of damage to our neighbor community.

 So there was a lot of this

However, let me be clear, I am not complaining about the noise or the lack of full-house use with this little beauty.  Not complaining at all.  We've had the generator about 10 years and I remember very well what life was like without it when out of power.  We're on well water.  So no power = no water.  I won't go into detail on how we managed to flush a toilet.

The other big event for us this week -- little girl chickens were integrated with big girls.  You may smile/laugh but it was kind of a big deal.

   They seem to have picked up the routine a lot quicker than I thought.  Of course they have a crazy pack of wild hens to emulate.

Related to absolutely nothing, I bring you three donkeys who ignore the fact the hay manger is there to contain the hay so it doesn't fall on the ground where they could consume dirt with the hay ad potentially colic. Hmm mmm.

 Now that normal life has been restored, I'll do my best to be better prepared for next week's post.

Probably.  Maybe.

Tools of the Trade - Use what You've Got

 I got so tired of walking in ick in the donkey barn.  For quite some time the three hooligans have decided the primary place to relieve themselves of bodily fluid is the dirt entryway.  A few years ago we tried putting drainage materials there, but we're back to muck.  I said to Rick, "can't you find a couple of board to use as a cross walk"?

 Basic, yet effective.  Mostly.  The hens like to use it too and often when I'm doing morning chores and they're roaming around, traffic jams erupt.  My guess is the donkeys ignore the boards.

After we found our brand new chicken waterer was empty entirely too soon after filling, I said the darn thing was leaking.  Rick said the base wasn't level and it was slopping over the edge.  Turns out Rick was right, darn it.  So he removed the wooden base, leveled the dirt floor and placed two cement blocks as the new base.  

It may need to be raised higher to avoid debris, but so far it's not been too dirty.

Of course we've talked about fans, fans, and fans.  The big girls have a fan in their side of the coop, as do the little girls.  And the donks' fan not only provides a slight breeze, but helps shoo-fly shoo the pests.

  I tend to feed the donks in the barn in front of the fan after their afternoon pasture time so they can cool down and get a brief reprieve from the flies.  I've read other chicken people complain about flies in the coops, but that doesn't seem to be a problem for us.

Finally, not a tool, but just because this never fails to amuse me, I give you the "donkey water is elixir from the gods, while chicken water is icky" scenario.

* * * * * * Say Yes * * * * * *

After a quite recent trip to one of the local farmers market, we now have a 10 pound box of delicious blueberries.  This has become an annual tradition after friend Mary clued me in to the farm that has "the best" berries around.   I always end up freezing a portion but a significant number of bluebs remain available for pop-in-the-mouth deliciousness.  My second favorite (vanila) yogurt pairs perfectly with the berries and I don't hesitate to indulge.

 

Donkey Behavior -- Grit your Teeth or Smile

 Sometimes when one encounters resistant donkey behavior e.v.e.r.y single day, it's easy to lose a little patience.  And one's (no names mentioned here) voice reflects it.

Usually when I open the gate in the morning to bring in the manure wheelbarrow I let the donks graze the grass in the area just beyond the gate.  With all the rain nature has recently bestowed, it's nice and lush -- and oh so tasty.  I accidentally discovered that the donks would come back in to their hay by voice command.  When I start calling they kick up their heels and race in.  Except the day I try to get it recorded.  Of course.  

And then there are the days they are not quite so cooperative and I use the stern voice.   

I've also had to gather my patience with little Miss Sugar.  Suddenly she has decided she does not want to be fly sprayed.  The flies are at their peak right now and can eat a donkey leg raw so spraying is imperative.  But I've grown tired of chasing the Sugar Booger round and round and it's not good for either of us on a hot and humid day.  So I've turned to trickery.

The donks love love love getting brushed.  They'll choose brushing over food.  And squeeze in between me and the donkey I'm brushing to get another turn.  So now I've learned to put down the fly spray bottle and pick up the brush and give Gabs and Spice and little once over. Then sweet talk Sugar over.  When she's feeling nice and relaxed, bam I throw the lead line over her neck and hold the whipper snapper while the legs get thoroughly sprayed.

For those wondering how the little (chicken) girls are doing, a funny story.  Last night when I went out to tuck everybody in for the night, the big girls were in their assigned roosting spots and making their settling in for the night noises.  Well the little girls were in the porch drinking beer, playing rock n' roll and not at all ready for the good times to be over.  Wouldn't you know.

*  *  *  *  *  *  Say Yes  *  *  *  *  *  *

Oh my golly, I just found this deliciousness at the grocery store last week and have used tremendous will power not to eat the whole box.

Non dairy "ice cream" treats.  Simply decadently wonderful.