Loss, Mud, and Shenanigans

So much news from the teeny tiny farm.

I'll start with the bad news.  Marigold died on Christmas Eve.  She had been lethargic and we had just started a worming regime, but she died the next day.  I will forever find it difficult to diagnose chicken maladies.

She was the last of the four girls adopted from the Michigan Humane Society in 2019.  She used to roost on top of the yellow door separating the two coop areas and I still hesitate before moving the door thinking she's up there.

It's never easy losing one of the girls when they've been part of the chicken family for years.

Moving along to the weather and how it impacts the ground.

For two weeks we had too much rain which meant we had mud and nothing but mud in the donkey yard.  There were a couple of high ground areas where we could throw hay to get the donks out of the yuck.  Felt like it would never end.  And then it froze.  And in all the places in the mud where humans and donkeys had tread, there were/are divets.  Deep divets.  Walking in the yard feels like a balancing act.  The donkeys choose their footing very carefully too.     

As I write this the rain has returned.  Donks have stayed in the barn all day.  Can you see me shaking my head?

I continue to find Sharone's behavior fascinating.  For a brief period while a freshman in college I considered pursuing animal behavior/psych courses.  But interests seemed to change every semester...

Anyway, just a couple of days ago for the first time that I have witnessed Sharone sounded the alarm to the hens.  Everyone quickly scooted into the coop, although two girls were in the barn hay aisle.  I saw nothing -- no hawks, no ground predators, who knows.

He continued to sound the alarm on a more subdued level, but wouldn't you know it, he hid behind the yellow door mentioned earlier as his hiding spot.  That's him right behind the mesh.

And then, Sweet Pea assisted him with the call to alarm.  

Sharone on the right, Sweet Pea on the left.  The urgency had dissipated but you can get a feel for the sound.

This surprised me.  Is she the matriarch being the oldest?  That sweet girl will be nine years old next month.  Equines lose their standing as they become elderly (witnessed that with Natural, when he went from king of the herd to a lesser standing with age).  But chickens?  Don't know.

Speaking of equines, we'll end this post with me herding the three ruffians from a walkabout around the house back to the donkey yard.  Do I sound I bit vexed?  Yes, yet another trip back and forth.