Fragility

I'm realizing how the loss of Alice, Francesca, Emmy Lou and Dottie in a short period of time has caused me to be aware of the fragility of life on a daily basis.  Every day when letting the chickens out for their free-range time, I tell them to be careful and I anxiously count heads when I call for their return to the coop.  I need four to return.

So, let's tell the girls how special they are.

My confession is this.  I would be heartbroken if something happened to Sweet Pea.

She is my #1 helper during morning chores, following around the donkey yard.  And chatting the whole time.  Actually it's the only way I can tell the difference between her and Buffy.  Sweet Pea is full of talk, talk, talk.  The few times she's been in the coop in a nesting box during morning chores, the silence has been deafening.

  

This little girl is actually quite full of personality, but instead of "helper" I'd term Jo "the snack queen".  In the mornings, as soon as I open the big door to the coop, out they all rush to do some early exploring.  But sure as shootin', Jo will rush back to see if any snacks have been distributed.  Often she's so anxiouson,  she'll sit in the snack bowl.  I have to lift her out and explain that doesn't really expedite the process.

Ruby Dee is one of the two remaining original girls (the other is Sweet Pea).  Ruby used to be my helper but apparently relinquished the position for reasons unknown to me.  And she does tend to whine.

On a recent morning instead of throwing them banana, they got nice juicy blueberries.  Ruby checked one out and just looked at me.  Clearly that blue thing wasn't a banana.

Her other idiosyncracy.  Pecking feet.  Sandaled feet.  Although (knock on wood) it hasn't happened recently.  when it does I tend to first yelp and secondly yell out "Ruby Dee, knock it off!!"  From the look on her face, I know she knows.

This is Buffy.  I dare you to differentiate between Buff and Sweet Pea.

Buffy is the loner and, although has been with my crew for two years, is still somewhat skittish.  Jo, on the other hand, has been here for two months and feels right at home.

OK, readers.  On the count of three, remind everyone 

Stay Safe, Please!!

Spring Babies

If you drove up to our home, you might look askance at the "beauty" of a Christmas wreath still hanging.  Your left eyebrow might raise in a quizzical look as you turned to say "Why?"

It used to be a beauty, but it's luster has faded.
And yet it remains, because...

Two robins selected that innovative location to build their spring nest.  A few weeks ago we would have disrupted the eggs if the wreath had been disturbed and now, we would disrupt the babes.

Look carefully, and you'll see a beak and a head.  We think there is at least one more young 'un in there, but Rick was perched on a ladder trying to get a peek so we're not entirely sure about the full brood.

So, it will stay Christmas at our house for a bit longer.  And that's fine with us.

Goodbye to Emmy Lou

If I were to be totally honest about what's going on at our little farm, I would have bad news yet again.  Seems like it's been a steady stream of bad news on the blog.

Emmy Lou has been going steadily downhill the past few days.  After some chicken health sleuthing, I had hopes of bringing her around, but it's not to be.  Today I've been determining the most humane means of euthanasia.

Just went out to check on her and I can't believe she'll last the night.

I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this death business.

 Emmy Lou on the right

When A Donkey Has A Darn Scratch

Carpenter extraordinaire in this house performed his magic again.
And voila, a scratching post for two donkeys.

I will assure you, Luigi and Gabby find it a most useful addition to the donkey yard.

The bare naked version (without donkeys)

Now when I roll the manure wheelbarrow in for the morning clean-up, Luigi does not attack it with a passion and rub and rub and rub.  

He has the real deal.

Faces at SASHA Farm Sanctuary

Last month friend Bev and I returned to our regularly scheduled trips to SASHA Farm Sanctuary as volunteers, feeding and watering and doing whatever other chores might be needed.  Some days I just don't take the time to capture photos of sweet faces, but this last visit seemed the right time for a few snaps.

Let me introduce you.

Little June is the newest addition to the big pigs, also the smallest and definitely my favorite.  Her personality is strong -- she's pushy for food but absolutely fun-loving.  She wants to play and will immediately come running as you walk into the pig area.  All in all a cutie.

Herman the boar is not as social but oh so distinctive.  

Don't quote me, but I think this is Daniel.  He was very attentive as I walked back and forth attending the pigs.  No other cows were nearby except this sweet boy.  He accepted a few head rubs and I was sorry I had no treats at that moment for him.

Norman, in the foreground, is definitely high on my list of cuties.  When I have carrots to dispense, I always seek out this boy.  I believe he's a donkey but could be a mix.

Sweet Fearless is infirm and gets a special bed in the kitchen.  He's a glutton for loving but you need to keep an eye on him as his hearing, sight and mobility are all an issue.

  And then there are the goats.  What goofs.

Great yoga poses...

 These emus are in with the chickens.  When I dumped the small wading pool in their area to clean and refill, they adored the pool of water left behind and settled down for a good soak.

SASHA is a great place to get your critter fix. 

Donkey Scoundrels

Its a regular dance the donkeys and I perform.  Daily.  Sometimes multiple times a day.
I walk into the hay aisle and usually Gabariella walks in right behind me.  I turn around with hay in hand to walk out and throw in the donkey yard, and yes, there's a donkey in my way.

On the occasion of the photo above, Luigi determined it was an oh most opportune time to bang around the metal garbage can holding donkey grain.  He has become quite clever at removing the bungee-corded lid.

  He knocked it down and was working on the lid, all within a matter of a minute or two.
This necessitated a quick push past Gabby (not an easy task -- she's a donkey after all--  who can easily choose to firmly plant four feet), quickly enough to stop the lid from coming off, the grain spilling to the ground and Luigi and Gabby gorging themselves and potentially becoming quite ill.

Yes, these are good times on our little farm.  Scoundrels is the polite word for the two equine devils.

Pasture Envy

Two little donkeys are beside themselves with lust for their pasture.
But they must wait.  And wait.
At least until mid-May.

You're heard me say it before; those little lips and teeth can decimate a not-fully-developed pasture faster than you can say "phooey".  And they have.  So we wait.

Now that the weather has turned toward the side of spring, Gabby has let me know in her inimitable way that she WILL either get to go in the pasture or out into the "compound" (fenced in area surrounding the house) and nibble whatever is available.    Rick has chastised me for allowing them free range in the compound since they ate all of the ivy he had cultivated by the house.   But, of course, the donkeys turn a deaf ear, particularly Gabs.

Here she was marching between the donkey yard gate and the pasture gate, with a very clear message for me.














Yet those darn chickens get to go into the pasture, she says.

And something is not right about that situation.

So, two donkeys decided to take matters into their control and sashayed into the chicken run.

The hens were not alarmed by this turn of events, but were slightly confused.

And so, as I explained the pasture situation yet again to Gabby, the ears were taking it all in.