Woes and ailments...

Mostly the animals on the farm are quite healthy.  Despite that fact, we have a good relationship with a wonderful large animal veterinarian.  She is young, brilliant, pretty, and very capable.  She is also kind, and willing to answer a text message from me on a Sunday night when I have a concern.  I try not to abuse such a privilege, and am most grateful to know I can get her expert advice if I need to. 

Last week she came to give everyone a check up, and dole out vaccinations where needed.  She fretted over the state of Chanel's hooves.  "See how they are all bruised?" she asked. I didn't. She showed me, and they are cracked, too.  "It's just age, like when peoples skin gets all fragile and is easily damaged," she explained.

And Abraham.  Poor little dude.  Last year he began having some problem with his hooves. Something called "white line disease," which is apparently common for donkeys.  At the same time his regular farrier, (hoof trimmer) was injured and could not work for several months while he healed. We found a different farrier, who was very nice, and he worked diligently to try to help Abraham with his troubles.  But the donkey's hooves looked horrible, and the shape of his hooves was making him move oddly and hold his legs in a strange way.  The farrier explained to me that this was a process, but I was concerned.  And Abraham was a brat for the new farrier, when he was always an angel for the original man. The vet noticed how he was standing and asked, "What do you think about his feet?" I said, "I wish I could have my old farrier back, I'm worried." She suggested I call him.  I knew he was busy, and that my two animals were small potatoes for him.  "He likes you," she said, "Call him."  So I did.  And he came right out.  Abraham stood stock still, practically offering his old friend his feet to work on. The farrier trimmed and cut and filed, and when he was done he told me the donkey might be sore for a few days because he had changed the way his hooves hit the ground and it might affect his joints.  About an hour after he left I looked outside and saw this: 

 Abraham was running. He bucked and dodged, danced and reared and ran some more.  He had not moved faster than a walk in months. Chanel got excited and did a little running herself.  I was overjoyed that Abraham felt well enough to celebrate.  

Meanwhile, Celeste had a skin irritation on her udder.  The doctor diagnosed a staph infection, and left me with a pile of needles, syringes, and a bottle of antibiotics. This meant I was giving a shot to the goat every day for a week, and wearing gloves while I milked her.  There was also a topical spray to soothe her.  She was a good sport about all of it, and looks much better now.  

While the vet was here she kindly castrated the Click and Clack, the new barn cats.  She gave them a tranquilizer and then one by one, on the kitchen table, she did the deed. It took mere moments, and cost a fraction of what my small animal veterinarian would have charged.  I tucked them into a crate until they were good and awake, and begging for supper. They never missed a beat. 

Harrison Ford, my beautiful, sweet, rooster was moving a bit slowly last week.  I  noticed he was resting in the pasture, where normally  he spent the entire day running and scratching and taking care of his ladies.  Then I noticed his comb and wattles were pale.  They got more pale by the day. 

I picked him up and looked him all over. I wondered if he was infested with mites or lice. I found a few external parasites, but not many. I treated him anyway.  I tucked him into a dog crate on a bed of soft hay so he could rest. I gave him diced beef liver to build his blood. I have him yogurt in case his intestines needed a bacterial boost. I called the vet, and she gave me permission to inject him with penicillin, which I did.  After three days he was paler and weaker.  In general, with chickens, once you notice they are sick, it's pretty much too late to help them.  But I tried.  I decided I'd let him go back with the flock, so he could die in the familiar coop where he was born, surrounded by his girls.  I tucked him into a cozy corner with a bowls of food and water.  Every few hours I check, expecting him to be gone.  But he is still with us.  He moves around a bit, which encourages me, but he is pale and weak, and I doubt he will pull through. Still, where there is life, there is hope, and I am hopeful. He's the nicest rooster I've ever had.  

Though most days the animals are hale and hearty, it's been a spell of care taking the critters.

Critter season...

This time of year, my time is taken up with critters. In a good way. My life is just so FULL of life.

The new kittens have dispatched their first mouse, and are very entertaining.  They are devoted to each other, and I love to watch them chasing breeze-tossed feathers and early bugs. They have the makings of excellent hunters.

 I had worried how they would be with my diminutive Silky Chickens. I need not have been concerned. They do annoy the free range rabbits a little, but the rabbits do not seem terribly upset by their stalking and chasing. Our little kingdom remains peaceful.

The goat kids are growing by leaps and bounds.

And they have a special fascination for the free range rabbit. She tolerates them amazingly well, sitting very still while they sniff her all over.

They are brimming with life and joy and curiosity. I spend a lot of time just watching them.

The horse and donkey have epic patience with the little things.  They leap and nuzzle, nibble and climb. We all are entertained by their antics. 

My first waking thought is about the animals. I often dream about them in my sleep.  All day long, I think about them, take care of them, and watch them. It makes me happy. I think it makes them happy, too.

Farmlette happenings...

There is much life here at FairWinds. The new kittens are getting bigger and bolder, dashing around the pasture, chasing windblown leaves, climbing the tree outside the grooming studio window to smile in at us.

They are very friendly, and purr loudly and often. We are enjoying them.

Then there are the goat kids. As they enter week #2 of their lives, they have picked up speed and endurance.  They run, leap, twist, dance, prance and entertain. I love looking out the window to see their antics, and find myself chuckling out loud several times a day.

I've taken to making sure I have my phone or a camera with me at all times when I do chores. Otherwise I might miss being able to show you scenes like this one...

Abraham has taken to standing next to objects such as the goat teeter totter or some other slightly elevated thing. He stays still until a kid or two leap up onto his broad back. And then he looks most pleased, and is very still while the babies dance upon him.

After a long winter of being coop-bound, (my chickens do not appreciate snow) the flock seems so happy to be out scratching around. They peck and dig, take luxurious dust baths, strut and flap.  The big guy in the foreground here is my sweet rooster, Harrison Ford.  I just like looking at him. He is huge, taller than my knee, but gentle.


In the north east corner of our pasture there is a little place we call, "Puddle Pond."  In the wet seasons, this low area becomes a rather large, deep, puddle. The ducks love it, and spend hours there splashing and gliding about.  To my delight I saw visitors there recently.

A lovely pair of Canada Geese. I wondered what the ducks would think of the interlopers. They appeared not to notice them, and peace reigned.

Springtime is busy here, and so full of life it never fails to energize me. I can hardly wait to wake up every morning to see what wonders are in store, right here, before my very eyes.

Starting spring...

The calendar says it is spring, and the singing birds agree. The pasture is a mix of old tattered snow, and mud. So much mud. It sucks at my boots and the animals seem to hate walking through it. I can't blame them.

The ducks are in their element, wandering from puddle to puddle, dabbling their flat bills in the wet. They are on the move all day, after a long winter of being kept close to the coop due to the snow. 

Looking out the window I see little white goat kids bouncing and flouncing all around. We have never had them all be one color. It's hard to tell them apart, and we have taken to spritzing dots of color on them so we can tell which kid belongs to which mama goat.  Jane's kids have red dots, Ella's, green, Spirit's, blue. The kids Celeste abandoned are kept in a separate area, so they remain unsullied.

 Interestingly enough, the baby goats don't stay with their mama's all the time.  They leap and twist around the pasture, grab a snack from the mom milk bar,  then pile into the goat cozy for a communal nap.  I rigged up a little lean-to for them, and they gather there, safe from the hooves of the big goats.  It's the sweetest thing. Each kid lies touching it's brother/sister. They bond early, and tightly.

They love to climb, and will happily leap up on anything within reach.  Spirit goat has her own two kids on her back, and one of Ella's, for good measure. She is patient with all the babies.

Kids are curious about every creature they meet.

Poodles, kittens, chickens... they examine each animal with bold curiosity. 

We are all enchanted by them. Even this guy. 

Spring time. Mud. Kids. And lots of smiles. 

Birthdaversary weekend...

A month or so ago I mentioned to Chris that there was a Wag It Games trail coming up, but it was on 3/31, so I couldn't go.  "Why not?" he asked.  "Because it's the Birthdaversary," I replied.  We were married on my birthday, 34 years ago. It's a special day for us.  "Sure we can go," he said. Because he is just that way. "A nice drive with  my best girl, dinner out, a romantic hotel...." He was grinning like a cat as he thought about it, and the wheels of a good weekend were set into motion. 

We got up long before dawn on  Saturday, and did all the animal chores. They take much longer this time of year, because of all the baby goats, so we were  hustling to try to leave by 6:30. As it was, we didn't get out of the place till 7. It was a 2 1/2 hour drive to the dog trial, and we managed to get a little lost, so we rolled in a bit late.  "Hurry!" My friend Rita called from the door. "You are going last, but there are only 4 dogs ahead of you."  I let Bravo go for a little walk, unloaded the car, carrying his "pup tent," dog bed, water, treats, etc. into the building. Then I watched a few teams run the course. I realized that since we had not practiced what this class was about for months, and we had arrived late and were in a hurry, we probably wouldn't do too well, but I grabbed my puppy and we began. The first class of the day was "Obstacles."  I chatted Bravo up as I took his leash off and gave him a few cookies, "We're gonna do some work, ok, buddy?  Stay with me." 

And he did. Look at his concentration on me!  This exercise is called, "Cavaletti's." The dog goes over each little jump, sits, then goes over the next, sits again.  Normally he gets distracted. Forgets to sit, or sits sideways. He did it flawlessly. I was gobsmacked.

In this exercise the dog has to carefully step through each rung of the ladder. No racing about, no skipping a space.

Then up the steps, over the bridge, and down. No missing a step, either.  There was more, and he performed each obstacle so nicely. We ended up scoring 110 out of a possible 115 points, (he sat when he wasn't supposed to on the final, bonus, obstacle. It was adorable.) We won first place. What a fun way to begin! 

Later he did some excellent heeling in the "Shadow Skills" class, earning us a second place.
Look at him smiling up at me. It is like he is saying, "This is fun. We got this!" He won a first place in dog ball and did well in Quarry Quest, too.

My friend who runs the trial surprised me with a delicious carrot cake to celebrate my birthday. How sweet!

We ended up with a nice haul of ribbons, and points toward future titles. And it was fun, every bit of it, for both Bravo and me. 

Chris picked us up when it was done and spirited us off to North Conway. We did a little shopping, they have some marvelous, unique, stores there.  Then he took me to the hotel he had chosen, Stonehurst Manor.  He was looking for something with character, and he found it.

Beautiful views of the White Mountains, cozy rooms with antique four poster beds, a marvelous restaurant with flames dancing in multiple fire places, great service and delicious food. They also had very fancy drinks and I indulged in one.  Yum.

All in all it was a delightful time.  Pleasant drives through the mountains, fun with dogs and friends, and a romantic stay with my love in a character-filled hotel.  What a way to celebrate 34 years together. 

Chris made it all very special. Just like he has every day since the day I met him. Yes, it was an excellent birthdaversary weekend.