Thursday, December 29, 2016

Glitches On a Teeny Donkey Farm

Where to start.

How about the hay aisle door.

The structure has done a seasonal shift and the door cannot be latched.  Hmmm...what to do.  Exactly a job for the hay twine that isn't tossed.  Tying the door closed tight enough that inquisitive (and strong) noses do not pry it open.

And then we have holes -- in the walls -- again.

Last summer, if you remember, dear little Alice starting eating her way through the barn.  Rick covered the lower exterior with fencing.  Well what do you know, "someone" is now eating away from the inside.  We know at least one hole was Alice's doing because of the height.  The others, well who knows.









Yup, right about Alice height.














May I now call them devil donkeys?






And then there's the natural forces at work.

We had a snow dump, then we had a big thaw and then we had a cool down.  Voila -- ice.





Doesn't look too treacherous, but it's scary to me.  Solid as cement and very slippery.  Out came the cleats.


















Thank goodness the driveway from the house to the horse trailer (probably over half the distance to the donkey gate) is ice-free.












Remember at the end of the last post I asked you to cross your toes and fingers for Alice?  Well someone forgot.  The vet was out today and it's not an insurmountable problem -- hopefully.  
But that's a story for another day.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Donkey Snow Trails

Usually when I approach the computer to submit a blog post for your approval, I have a plan in mind.  The story is outlined in my head and the photos have been taken.

However, the overriding thought swirling in my head this evening is not the planned outline, but donkey health.  Every day for the past three days, someone has appeared under the weather.  And each time, I tell Rick to help me keep an eye on the bugger and each time the ailment seems to pass.  And now, it's sweet Alice.  Just a bit ago I fed for the evening and her limp was pronounced.  No discernible problems.  So we wait and check in the morning.

But the story I had intended to tell was that of the annual routine of snow trails.  
Usually the donkeys ask me to blaze the trails, but this year they forged perhaps half of them in the yard.

After the first big snowfall, I shoveled out three eating areas.  Clearly you can see one of them above and there's another northwest of the tree.

From this angle you can see another just above Luigi's back.  And I hear you asking about that milk carton hanging from the tree.  Just an attempt to provide a  little something to amuse them.  Although I believe the attempt was probably an abject failure.  But, still it hangs.




And then, there's Alice.  Actually she's been a big pain in the proverbial ass recently.  The trails are only about the width of my shovel, meaning they're only wide enough for one person or one donkey.  And lately Alice has been a master at blocking the paths.  By just standing.  Still.  As donkeys tend to do.

In the picture to the right, she thumbed her nose at the hay in the feeding area and said she was going straight to the source.  Alice is a pistol to remove from the hay aisle.







Cross your toes and fingers that Alice is back to normal tomorrow.  

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Peaceful Evenings

If you happened to wander by our place tonight and had a chat with the donkeys, I'm tempted to say they would not say it was a peaceful evening feed.

Factors to consider:
*trying to make my way to the donkeys,  I was continually slipping on the packed driveway snow,
*it started snowing again -- we got dumped with at least 10" on Sunday
*four donkeys were crowding in the barn (because it was snowing again) making it impossible to clean up manure for the 500th time today and
*did I mention it was snowing again?
*oh yes, and standing on my head trying to get Alice's blanket on -- in addition to more snow it's going to get mighty chilly tonight.

No one would accuse me of being miss congeniality tonight.  I'll admit it.  I had to apologize to the donks for yelling.  They seemed to take it in stride.

Anyway, I finally got hay thrown, more shavings piled up, and yes, Alice's blanket on. Chickens locked up safe for the night, more chicken treats distributed, heat lamp plugged in.

And as I started back toward the house, I looked up.  Into the snowfall and the sky.  And soaked up the quiet.  It was only 5:30 but felt much later.  And peace and calm appeared.

At that moment, regretfully, I did not have a camera, but grabbed my phone at the house, backtracking just a bit to try to capture the mood.



    If you look closely you'll see one of the cows next door making his way out to the round bale



Did you feel it?   Aahhh...

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

A Chicken's Toy... or not

Some things just don't work out the way you planned.  As it was in this case.

My chicken girls aren't allowed out free-range for more than 2-3 hours per day.  For two reasons. The dogs might be able to work their way through the gate blockade Rick devised, and, we believe we have a fox in the area.  Yes, that fox could attack at any time, but I feel better when their free time is not too extensive.

That means girls are bored, confined to the coop and their outside run.

Which leads me to their new toy.


Yes, a xylophone.

I had seen a video of chickens having a grand time pecking out tunes.

I thought it could be a rather inexpensive means to relieve the boredom.



Yea right.  Don't believe everything you see.

Rick said, you've got to train them to go to it.  So everyday I've been placing treats on the darn thing so they'll catch on to the great fun they could be having.  Yes, they play a cute little ditty while the treats are there,



and then it sits.  

Unless they're having fabulous xylophone parties at night after curfew.  And whale away on it while the donkeys listen in next door.

One just never knows.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

A Donkey Quiz

Many, many, many years ago I was a Teaching Assistant for a basic level video production class at the University of Michigan.  I felt quite inept at concocting quizzes and tests for the students and remember distinctly putting together a multiple choice test and thinking "no one in their right mind would pick this option".  And yet, someone did.

In that vein, dear readers, I am posing a quiz about the donkadonks.   I think it's painfully easy so, yes I'll be grading it quite severely. Answer carefully.

Let us begin.

#1.  This donkey is the fairest of the bunch, quite lovely.  But does not have a personality to match. Certainly not mean, but not nearly as sociable as the rest.  And, please oh please, do not touch his/her head!

Who is this donkey?








The answer:  Gabariella, of course.

















#2.  This donkey is most happy getting head rubs, hugs, and kisses and greets me at the gate expectantly waiting for that physical contact (as opposed to treats) He/she is this writer's favorite (a dead give-away).  The mother to another donkey, she and her offspring frequently hang out together.

Who is this donkey?

    



Answer:  Francesca, of course.















#3.  This donkey provides me with a morning wake-up each and every morning by goosing me as I turn around to latch the gate.  E-v-e-r-y morning.  His/her bray has a foghorn quality to it and he/she is the most passive of the group.

Who is this donkey?

  




The answer:  Alice, of course.


















#4.  This donkey has a knack for attacking the grain can as soon as (and I do mean as soon as) I walk two steps away from the hay aisle.  This afternoon, in the time it took for me to get a flake of straw, walk 30 feet to throw it, and return to the hay aisle, he/she had knocked over the can and was working on the bungee cord keeping the lid on.  This also happens to be the donkey most visitors fall in love with first.  God knows why!

Who is this whippersnapper?



The answer:  Luigi, of course.











OK, how did you score?  It's the honor system now, so fess up.
I'm certain friend "JC #2" who follows this blog religiously got an A.  If you received less than a 100% score, I expect you to do a little more studying.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Sparrows In The Chicken Coop

As I was thinking about how to begin this little saga, the phrase "bats in the belfry" popped into my thoughts.  Well, that's not exactly the situation we're experiencing but it's similar.

For some time sparrows have been flying into the little coop door and helping themselves to chicken feed.
 If only Sweet Pea would stand guard like this all the time.

There's no real way to keep them out and we feed the birds anyway, so resigning ourselves to the situation seemed the right course of action.  
However, their destructive behavior escalated.  







Now when opening one of the main coop doors, it is necessary to stand aside and wait for the sparrows to fly out, or you'll have birds flying erratically above your head (hence the similarity to bats in the belfry -- you see there is a method to my madness.)  








And then... we ended up with a mess like this.

They started destroying the insulation Rick so carefully included in the coop structure, we're assuming to make nests.
Today he put cardboard over all insulation areas to fend off the little winged buggers.  Enough is enough.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Miniature Donkeys Vote Yes, Thumbs Down From Chickens

At this house, four clucks get a banana a day.  Probably 90% of the time.

A couple of days ago I had the unmitigated gall to offer apples instead.

The backstory:  Once a year we go to Camp Michigania about a four-hour drive toward the NW part of the state (remember, we're in the SE).  It's for University of Michigan alumni and we've been going for many many many years.  While there in October, we picked some wild apples to bring home to the donks. It's our own little tradition.

This year's bounty.
 
As I was saying, a couple of days ago I cut up some to treat the donkeys, cows next door and chickens.

Everyone was esctatic.  The donkeys couldn't get enough.  The cows were practically jumping up and down.





When I ran out of my bagful for the cows and walked away, mama cow yelled and yelled at me.  "Come back here this minute; we need more!"
















Everyone was happy, except four hens.







Ruby Dee took one small peck, stopped and clearly said, for all the world to hear, "What the heck is this?  This is NOT banana!"










Usually I learn my lessons very well after erring, but this time... hmmm... I may try making the same mistake again and see what happens.