Meet Chuck!

Last spring, Chuck came to live with us at the age of 13 weeks.  He had just been taken away from his mama, put into a dog crate, and hauled in a car for a couple of hours to get to his new home.  He was not impressed with all of the changes, his new home, or us!  Jordan is telling him that we really are okay, but Chuck is not easily convinced and pouted for nearly a week.

Once Chuck recovered from the tauma of moving to a new home, he warmed up to all of us and found a best friend in Roxy.  She tried to teach him important things like barking at coyotes, swimming in the river, and hunting mice.  He understands about keeping coyotes and bad guys away, has learned to splash around in the river and tries to imitate hunting mice, but really wonders what all the fuss is about - those little mice don't even count as a snack . . .

We lost Roxy to an unfortunate accident and buried her on the hill behind the house on Thanksgiving morning.  Chuck was very bewildered and did not understand why his lively friend would not get up and play with him.  He became so upset when we wrapped her in her favorite blanket that he had to be held back as he was pawing and unwrapping her faster than we could get her covered, even after we had allowed him quite a lot of time with her body.  His grief was so great that he continued to dig on her grave for several weeks and has now taken to spending a lot of his day laying up on the hill near her gravesite. 

Chuck looks so regal laying in the golden leaves by the river, but in reality is eating a dead fish.  He has even been known to eat dead dried up snakes he has found in the road.

Chuck finds great delight in the snow, running, playing, chasing, and rolling in it.  He really is well suited to cold weather and stays so much cleaner with all the sparkly stuff on the ground!

So, from afar, we can pretend Chuck is a regal, dignified protector, but close up he is just a goof.  Whenever he is out with the livestock, or on a walk wandering the pastures and woods with any of his people, he is actually quite serious, but when he is around the house, he is always up for a bit of fun.  With lambing season yet to come, we will see if he can keep the coyotes and cougars away, but we have not had coyotes close in by the house and barns as we've had in the past and have lost no chickens to predators since Chuck has come to live with us.  His grandparents are proven cougar killers, so maybe his family's reputation has gotten around and the local thugs have moved on to safer neighborhoods.

Until next time, may you be blessed with a diligent and loyal protector . . .

Catching Up

My sisters, Stacey and Paula, are so diligent at keeping up their blogs, while I plod along slowly. My sisters, you inspire me and I can only hope to one day come somewhere close to your awesome accomplishments! I think I can, I think I can . . . .

If you have not seen their blogs, pop on over and visit Stacey and Paula and enjoy as they are both excellent writers.

So many things take place here on the farm when time passes between posts and it becomes difficult to decide where to start, but here is a quick run down of several changes we have had. I will follow up with more in-depth posts on several of these changes.

Of course, the weather has turned from early fall to midwinter and we are currently in mud season.

Last spring we had fairly heavy lamb losses due to predators, both coyotes and cougar, so Jordan got a Great Pyrenees pup whose parents are proven livestock guard dogs in hopes that he can help reduce any further losses.

We lost our beloved Roxy dog on Thanksgiving and still miss her every day. She was an invaluable part of our family and the farm, and we will never be able to truly replace her.

We took several of our most friendly critters to our church's Living Nativity and found out some interesting background on my miniature donkey, Elmer. Turns out Elmer and I share a birthday!

Another sad event took place a couple of weeks ago when one of Jordan's fair lambs, Jumper, died of pregancy complications.

After having his feet trimmed recently, Roland, KP's little mustang went down in the barn and may have died if Jordan had not gone out to check on the horses when he did. I beleive he pulled back and went down, tightening the rope further, flipped to his back, then was unable to right himself as the halter and rope held tight. He is such a good common-sense horse it surprises me he let himself get into such a predicament, but am so grateful the outcome was positive. While he was a bit shaky afterward, he seems to have no lasting ill effects and is back to his old self.

Amongst these highlights, both sad and glad, are the usual happenings of new kittens, baby calves and the never-ending hunt for the hen's newest hiding places for their precious eggs!

Until next time, hope your happenings are more glad and less sad!

Home at Last

The ewes and lambs came back home on Friday after spending the summer on pasture. They seemed to be happy to be back and Jim, the old ram, was nearly beside himself to see his harem again.



The younger ram is a purebred Romney who is now getting to know the ewe lambs. He has a much sweeter nature than old Jim. We are looking forward to seeing what his lambs will look like next spring.
We spent a good portion of today working on fences and tagging the ewe lambs. I love the weather this time of year, clear and crisp, but warm during the day. Nothing short of glorious!

Until next time, may all of your homecomings be cause for celebration!

Jordan's Catch

Jordan has always wanted to catch a fish in his bare hands and this afternoon he finally got the chance.

Complete with a bit of a Halloween scare.

I laugh every time I watch this video.

Until next time, may all of your scares be pleasant ones!

Spring Frolic and Romp

This is one of the twins born as a surprise back in December. He and his brother are the oldest and largest lambs in the flock and are teaching the younger ones to romp and frolic.

The black lamb with white markings on her face and all four feet off the ground up on top of the hill is one of quadruplets. She is the smallest of the three survivors, but is doing well. We have been keeping an eye on her and attempted to supplement with milk for a while. Even through I knew she was hungry from her cries, she had her own opinions on that nasty tasting rubber nipple that did not remind her of mama at all and refused to drink. It takes a while to wait a lamb out and if they are hungry enough they will eventually decide to take the bottle even if it doesn't look or smell like Mom. Warm milk being dribbled down a hungry baby's throat is a pretty convincing tool. This stubborn little girl never did concede to the bottle, so I stopped trying after she was about 3 weeks old. By then she was nibbling hay and I figured she was obviously getting enough grub to get by. Her growth rate did not match her siblings, and she could have been a little plumper, but she wasn't crying like when she was younger, so I stopped putting us both through the tortuous milk dribbling ritual.

And down they go! They love to race down off of this hill, over to the next one, around, and around, over and over, leaping, and jumping.

Oh what a beautiful morning!

This is Daisy's lamb. He is the only one this year who was an only child - no siblings. There are 18 lambs all together, though, so he has plenty of cousins to play with.

Slowing down.

Getting tired.

Nap time. I believe this ewe is the mother of the quadruplets. She still looks pregnant with that big old tummy! She and her sister look quite a lot alike, both are three years old now. One was born to Daisy and the other's mom was Ivy, but we switched ear tags and now I am not sure which one is which. Daisy's daughter was Pansy and Ivy's Holly. I am pretty sure it was Holly who had the quads. Ivy had triplets last year and raised them to maturity without any help at all. She is a very good mom. We have actually culled out all of the ewes who were not good mothers now and have kept all of the good moms and easy lambers. It sure made lambing season go a lot smooher this year.

Until next time, may you find time to frolic and romp in the spring sunshine.

Coon Dog

Taking a walk through the woods this morning, Roxy discovered a tempting scent. We hurried to catch up to her frantic barks.

Look, I found a critter! It's right here, under this log.

OOOOOH, it is in here. Come on guys, let's tear this log apart!

Okay, it is growling awfully fiercely. But can't I please tear the log apart?

We can go home now, all that barking and digging made me tired and it is just a small coon anyway.

We are thankful to see Roxy feeling so frisky as she was a pretty sick dog about 3 weeks ago. We were hoping for some puppies from her, but instead she contracted a serious infection. She was droopy and not herself, but we had no idea how sick she was. The vet said if we had waited another day to bring her in, he probably would not have been able to save her. She had to be spayed, so no puppies, and the treatment was expensive, but Roxy says she is worth it. She also says we should let her sleep on the couch, but I have to draw the line somewhere!

Until next time, may someone love you enough to let you sleep on the couch!

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

The inseperable brothers have been cut from each other. At about 3:30 this morning, I awoke to a loud squawk coming from the front yard fence and immediately jumped out of bed, flung open the door and knew some dirty dog was stealing one of my pets. I slipped on a robe and slippers as it was quite brisk out of doors, and went on a starlit hunt. One Barred Rock rooster came running toward me through the front yard, so I was a bit relieved to see him and sent our dog, Roxy, out on the trail of the other, heading up the hill behind the house. At one point she must have run into the fox as she let out a warning bark and set out on a chase. I was hopeful with all of the commotion, the fox might drop the rooster as his plump frame must have been quite the burden for a delicate fox, but alas, we followed for a bit and no such luck. It has been my experience that a fox will usually snatch a bird, carrying it off to kill in a safer location farther from the house and barn. Chickens struggle only briefly, then resign themselves to the inevitable and I have recovered chickens from foxes by scaring the fox into dropping the bird with the chicken having only minor wounds, recovering fully. I continued to call for a time, hoping to hear the answering cluck coming from under a sagebrush, but eventually returned to the house, half frozen. The remaining rooster was sitting in the middle of the yard, so I carried him to the porch, felt for any injuries, and finding none, perched him on the porch near my bedroom door. In the past, the brothers would sometimes be diligently scratching for bugs and tasty morsels throughout the yard and find themselves lost from one another's sight on opposite sides of the house. They would crow to each other until they were together again, happily scratching and preening side by side. All roosters fight each other at times, but I never saw these two get into a scuffle. They were together constantly. In the picture posted above, he had just crowed and was waiting and listening for an answer from his brother, but all he heard were crows from the barn banties. He must walk into the dawn of a new day alone, with only memories to sustain him. And with a chicken, that won't be long.

Happier times - cold weather, warm hearts.


Until next time, may you never walk alone.