I must tell you about the farm and how it came to be.
It's special.
A bit of background. I have always wanted to live on a farm. Dreamed of it and ached for it since I was old enough to know what one was. I have no idea why. I just wanted a small place where I could have a few horses and be happy. How hard is that? Is that too much to ask?
So I thought to myself, "Self.... what we will do is go to college and get a degree and get a good paying job and get a farm!" Great plan, eh?
So I went to college and majored in one of the most lucrative fields I could interest myself in (Computer Science) and graduated and got a good job. But then we moved to a wildlife management area which my husband had the job of managing, and suddenly the actually BUYING of a farm didn't seem important. We had a free house, free utilities, free tractors and all sorts of equipment and doodads, free truck, free phone, even free work clothing... and about 350 acres to enjoy! So buying a place was not a high priority. I was happy as a little clam on that wildlife management area with my then small children and a few horses. We bought a young mare we named "Tessa". A 3-yr old. My daughter was 4 and my sons were 2 at the time and the children and the mare all grew up together along with an older, WELL-loved Shetland pony named "Big Joe". Those kids went everywhere on that horse and pony. Those animals were priceless. Tessa neckreined beautifully.. was incredibly easy to steer and control for them and despite her size, she was gentle as a lamb with them and carried them everywhere on those 350 acres that they wished to go. Through woods, across creeks, perfectly obedient and under relaxed control for them at a walk, trot or lope. They had a blast with her. We trained her to pull an antique buckboard wagon and were seen all over the county plodding along the country roads, sometimes with one of Tessa's beautiful golden palomino colts tied to the back of the wagon. Good times.
A decade slipped by. A divorce came and went and life on the wildlife area was no more, and the horses were sold. I lost track of them but thought of them more often than I can count.
Another decade or so went by. The children were now grown and out on their own starting their own lives. I remarried and bought a little house in a subdivision. A little cape cod that I dearly loved with a beautiful big backyard.. but it wasn't a farm and there was no horse there. So we would make a relaxing hobby of checking real estate listings and classified ads regularly to see what property was for sale in hopes of finding a miracle farm that we could afford, knowing that would never happen. It became an almost-weekly event to head out into the countryside on a relaxing Sunday with map in hand and check out the farms in our price range and see what they looked like. Anything that we liked was about $150,000 more than we could ever afford and anything we could afford fell into one of two categories: it was either decent land with a gosh-aweful DUMP of a house on it.. or a decent little house sitting on a patch of rocks, or on a chunk of land straight up a mountainside and covered with trees. Never failed. But we kept looking mostly because it was fun to look and because it was fun to dream. We really knew we would never find anything we liked because every year that passed by, real estate became more expensive and larger tracts of land that were anywhere within a reasonable range of the city were scarcer and scarcer. But it was something to do, so we kept it up.
One day I found an ad on Craigslist. I love Craigslist. It's free. Every city has one online. Anyone can easily post to it. It's organized into handy categories. I just love it. The ad was for 12 acres and a small farm house. Said it was great for horses. New high-tensile electric horse fencing, cross-fenced, heated water troughs, new 3-stall horse barn with tack room, hay field, creek. And it was barely within our price range. But there were no pictures. Experience had taught me this was a dump. HAD to be a dump. But what the heck, I emailed.
The man emailed back with some photos. They were absolutely beautiful. I was stunned. But I had been stunned before and realized the "punch line" must be in the house, because there were NO photos of the interior of the house. I asked when we might come see the property since it was only about 10-15 minutes from our subdivision. The owner, with something quite less than enthusiasm, said perhaps Friday (this was on Monday). I assumed he must not be real excited to sell. It must be a dump. Had to be a dump. Had to be surrounded by dumps. So we didn't think much about it at all.
When Friday came, we drove over to look at it, honestly not expecting much at all. We had previously tried to find it a few days earlier by driving by, but it was not easily visible from the road at all and we were very frustrated and gave up. But when we drove up the long hidden driveway to the property and got to the end and saw the gorgeous 12 acres open up in front of us, we looked at each other and said, wow... this is neat. House must be a dump inside. Has to be a dump.
The man and his wife came out to greet us and we stepped up on the large, cool front porch (much like the one Andy and Aunt Bee are always sitting on snapping beans or playing the guitar on Andy Griffith). As we toured the little house, we knew this was it. This was the farm we had been looking for. It was not glamourous but it was perfect for us. Except for the fact that it had no garage for Timm (who loves cars), it was made for us. The house had a new roof, new plumbing, new electrical, new siding, completely gutted and remodeled inside and was small but just perfect for us. We loved it. And the barn.. oh my gosh. I was in heaven.
But we would have to sell our house. There was no way we would be able to sell our house. Real estate was really in a slump and not much was selling at all in our neighborhood or anywhere else. But heck, we had to try. So we put a contingent offer on the farm which they miraculously accepted and put a For Sale sign in our yard and set out to give it our best shot.
I really don't care for the realtor profession at all. I have had numerous unpleasant experiences with real estate agents and don't trust or respect them in the least. So I wanted to try to sell our home ourselves. ok that was stupid. Even REALTORS can't sell houses these days, so I'm not sure what made me think WE could. But I was going to show THEM. Fortunately, we had just remodeled the entire upstairs of the home and it looked fantastic. The downstairs, however badly needed paint. So we rushed to get the downstairs looking like the upstairs, and wrote up wonderful flyers with oodles of beautiful photos and impressive descriptions and stuck them in the For Sale sign box and on Craigslist and anywhere else a thumbtack or tape would stick. We found a retired real estate broker that sold us a no-strings-attached MLS listing for $40 and we put our house on the nationwide MLS listings. We had sprinklings of showing and then just at the end of our 3 month contingecy period... 2 offers!
We wound up selling the house for $5,000 more than we asked for it... and closed 2 hours before the closing on the farm. The farm was ours. It was a miracle.
Then we had an empty pasture. My thoughts went back to Tessa and I wondered where she was and if she were alive and how perfect life would be if she could be on our farm with us. She would be 23 years old and was probably dead. But I thought I'd try to find her. After a lot of talking to a lot of people who pointed me to other people and more talking, we finally located her! She looked fantastic! She was beautiful. She remembered me and all my weird voice commands. It was like meeting a very old friend again.. someone who had shared a lot of your secrets and pains and joys and who very tenderly shared your children's childhood and took care of them.
We bought her and brought her home.
In the months that have followed, we have learned that she is to have a foal in the spring. She is of course spoiled absolutely rotton and gets the very best vet care and very best food and is brought in every night and covered with a warm thick blanket for the cold. We bought a 2nd horse to keep her company and to go on short relaxing rides together and at Christmas, added a donkey to the little herd. It's complete now.
Life is good. Life doesn't get any better than this. My only hope in life now is that I never lose appreciation for what I have, how lucky I am.. and that I never take this life for granted.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
Chicken George is no more :(
We lost George. He is no longer with us. I miss that chicken. I never had a chicken before. I didn't think he would last very long but after he'd made it several days, I thought he was just an exceptional chicken, smarter than the average rooster, and just might make it. But no. He's gone. He has passed away.
I came home from work and walked up to the barn as it was getting very close to dark. George has usually ambled up to the barn to settle in for the night by then and he was no where to be found. On the way up to the barn, I noticed a small white something far out in the hayfield where George likes to hang out. Hmm. Might be George. Wasn't moving. But could just be some trash that blew onto the property. I would check the barn and see if George was there and if not, would check out the white something.
After about half an hour's worth of stall cleaning, bringing in horses, feeding and watering horses and brushing horses, there was still no George. It was eerily quiet in the barn. Part of me know George wasn't coming in tonight. I locked up the barn and walked out to the hayfield and yes, the white spot was George. I will spare you the details but we'll just say, he's gone.
I really miss that chicken. He made the place seem like a real farm. He made us laugh. He was so darn noisy that it seems soooooo quiet now. Timm says we can get another chicken but it wouldn't be the same. Because we know that unless we build a nice safe pen, the same fate will await any new chicken we bring home, and if we have a chicken in a pen, it will just be "a chicken in a pen". Most of George's personality and charm came from his wild and noisy ramblings during the day and his humble, cozy, cuddly roosting in the barn at night, all on his own free will. A penned up chicken will have none of that personality. But I don't want to feed any more chickens to whatever got my George so we'll wait and see if we have a big enough hankering for more chickens to justify the construction of a respectably safe pen.
He was a cool chicken.
I came home from work and walked up to the barn as it was getting very close to dark. George has usually ambled up to the barn to settle in for the night by then and he was no where to be found. On the way up to the barn, I noticed a small white something far out in the hayfield where George likes to hang out. Hmm. Might be George. Wasn't moving. But could just be some trash that blew onto the property. I would check the barn and see if George was there and if not, would check out the white something.
After about half an hour's worth of stall cleaning, bringing in horses, feeding and watering horses and brushing horses, there was still no George. It was eerily quiet in the barn. Part of me know George wasn't coming in tonight. I locked up the barn and walked out to the hayfield and yes, the white spot was George. I will spare you the details but we'll just say, he's gone.
I really miss that chicken. He made the place seem like a real farm. He made us laugh. He was so darn noisy that it seems soooooo quiet now. Timm says we can get another chicken but it wouldn't be the same. Because we know that unless we build a nice safe pen, the same fate will await any new chicken we bring home, and if we have a chicken in a pen, it will just be "a chicken in a pen". Most of George's personality and charm came from his wild and noisy ramblings during the day and his humble, cozy, cuddly roosting in the barn at night, all on his own free will. A penned up chicken will have none of that personality. But I don't want to feed any more chickens to whatever got my George so we'll wait and see if we have a big enough hankering for more chickens to justify the construction of a respectably safe pen.
He was a cool chicken.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Life with Crawdads
Crawfish. Crawdads. Crayfish. Whatever they are. We got em.
A small (and I do mean SMALL) stream bends around our house.. curling all along the side of the house and perfectly around the front corner and all along the front yard before disappearing under the driveway and into the woods on the other side. Charming little stream. Ambience. We love it.
But shortly after we moved in, we noticed several holes along the creekbank. Then more holes. Then more holes. There are HUNDREDS of holes. What the heck ARE those holes? I'm thinking "oh please don't be snakes." Most were 1-2 inches in diameter... smooth and snakey looking. But there were so MANY of them! And some of them were HUGE! 5-6 inches in diameter! Small children tripped and fell, with their little feet caught way down in them. Horses could not be ridden along the creekbank for fear of a hoof plugging down into one of the larger ones and a leg snapping.
What lives in these holes?!?!?!?!? We never saw ANYTHING going into or coming out of them. And whatever they were, there must be HUNDREDS of them. Creepy thought, no matter WHAT they are!
Then a visiting farmer friend and his wife came over and I thought "AHA, HE will know!" So I dragged him down to the creekbank to show him our holes. He looked at me and dead seriously said "Hate to tell you this but those are cottonmouth snake holes". WHAT?!?!?!?!?! Then he laughed and said no, crawdads.
Funny. Very funny.
But geez those must be some HUGE crawdads.
Hubby, again a naive native of Germany where there are no crawdads, had a confused look on his face and headed inside to look up the creatures on the trusty Internet, source of all information.
Shortly after, I hear him shrieking facts he has unearthed about crawdads. "The largest reported crayfish is 6 feet long!!!!!", "they make hissing noises before attacking!!!!", "Even small crayfish can snap small twigs with their claws!!!!" and endless fun-to-know facts about the power in their claws. I tried to tell him that I have no idea where he got his info, but I'd never heard of such statistics and I'm sure they are perfectly harmless.
Still, I don't think he slept soundly for a week.
We also read you can tie tempting morsals of bologna or other bait onto a string and drop it from a stick into their hole and pull them out when they snap onto the bait! I have not yet convinced Timm that this would be a fun thing to try. We still haven't seen them yet.
Skunks, crawdads, what next?
A small (and I do mean SMALL) stream bends around our house.. curling all along the side of the house and perfectly around the front corner and all along the front yard before disappearing under the driveway and into the woods on the other side. Charming little stream. Ambience. We love it.
But shortly after we moved in, we noticed several holes along the creekbank. Then more holes. Then more holes. There are HUNDREDS of holes. What the heck ARE those holes? I'm thinking "oh please don't be snakes." Most were 1-2 inches in diameter... smooth and snakey looking. But there were so MANY of them! And some of them were HUGE! 5-6 inches in diameter! Small children tripped and fell, with their little feet caught way down in them. Horses could not be ridden along the creekbank for fear of a hoof plugging down into one of the larger ones and a leg snapping.
What lives in these holes?!?!?!?!? We never saw ANYTHING going into or coming out of them. And whatever they were, there must be HUNDREDS of them. Creepy thought, no matter WHAT they are!
Then a visiting farmer friend and his wife came over and I thought "AHA, HE will know!" So I dragged him down to the creekbank to show him our holes. He looked at me and dead seriously said "Hate to tell you this but those are cottonmouth snake holes". WHAT?!?!?!?!?! Then he laughed and said no, crawdads.
Funny. Very funny.
But geez those must be some HUGE crawdads.
Hubby, again a naive native of Germany where there are no crawdads, had a confused look on his face and headed inside to look up the creatures on the trusty Internet, source of all information.
Shortly after, I hear him shrieking facts he has unearthed about crawdads. "The largest reported crayfish is 6 feet long!!!!!", "they make hissing noises before attacking!!!!", "Even small crayfish can snap small twigs with their claws!!!!" and endless fun-to-know facts about the power in their claws. I tried to tell him that I have no idea where he got his info, but I'd never heard of such statistics and I'm sure they are perfectly harmless.
Still, I don't think he slept soundly for a week.
We also read you can tie tempting morsals of bologna or other bait onto a string and drop it from a stick into their hole and pull them out when they snap onto the bait! I have not yet convinced Timm that this would be a fun thing to try. We still haven't seen them yet.
Skunks, crawdads, what next?
Stinky-Poo shampoo is a Miracle Product!!!
I must tell you about the skunks. When we first moved to the farm, we met skunks. Of course, I had encountered skunks before. But my husband, being from Germany where there are no skunks, had not yet fully experienced them.
He thought he knew about skunks. When he first came to the U.S. he had heard all about skunks. They had cartoons... Pepe le Pew. But as we were driving down a country road one day and a whiff of that notorious scent wafted his direction through the open car window, he was COMPLETELY startled and gasped "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!?!?!?!" I smiled slyly and asked "you don't know what that smell is?!!?"
Shortly after, we purchases a small bottle of pure skunk oil from a local hunting supply store and put it in a fancy perfume bottle and mailed it to his sister in Germany so she could experience and enjoy.
Anyhow.. I digress.
So about 2 days after we had moved into the farm, I was working very late at my job and came home well after dark. Hubby was anxious to show me how tidy and organized the workshop area of the barn was that he'd spent a good chunk of the day unpacking and setting up. So we walked slowly up to the barn in the cool summer night.. all was quiet and peaceful. We walked into the side doorway of the barn and flipped on the light. He stood by the doorway while I walked on in to check out his handywork. I looked up to see a skunk not walking, but RUNNING up the aisleway of the barn straight towards me.
I yelled "RUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN" and nearly ran completely over my husband who was scrambling to get the heck out of the way. He had no idea what was going on. A snake? I slammed the door shut and yelled "SKUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!""
Then it hit us. The toxic cloud of skunk fumes. Those of you who have never been in very close proximity to a very fresh direct skunk spray have no idea of the potency. It doesn't even smell that familiar skunky smell. It's different. It's toxic. You cannot breathe. Horrible stuff. About that time, one of our 3 Border Collie mix dogs, Süße (means "Sweetie" in German), came slinking around from behind the barn. Stupid Me bent down to bury my nose in her neck fur and take a whiff. I about fell off my feet. Yup. She got hit. It was aweful. Indescribable. About that time, the 2nd of our dogs, Lucy, came bouncing around from the other side of the barn and immediately but happily dropped and rolled around in the wet grass, obviously trying to rid herself of the superstink. Hubby and I looked at each other. Geez.. TWO dogs.
Then I thought... where's Butchie (our 3rd dog). Oh dear. Surely I didn't slam the barn door and lock him in there with the skunk. I called for him and whistled and eventually he appeared out of the darkness. I gave him the sniff test (from a more respectable distance this time) and sure enough, he'd been hit too. What are the chances of ALL THREE DOGS getting hit at the same time.. close range.. direct hits... unbelievable.
We ran to the house to escape the toxic cloud of stink. What to do? Keep in mind, these are dogs that are used to sleeping indoors curled up on our bedroom floor at night. NOW WAY were we going to let them inside. So we put them in the cellar until we could figure something out. It was semi-cozy down there. Concrete walls and floor. Clean and dry. Nice bright lights. Comfy dog beds. They were dogs, for crying out loud.
I went inside and immediately began searching the Internet for a remedy. Baths were imminent but what to use to combat the stink? I found a posting for skunk-detox that used a homemade concoction I knew well and had used before for cat or dog "accidents" on carpet and car seats when NOTHING else would. But hello, SKUNKS???? I would never have believed it. And it's incredibly simple... and incredibly cheap.
1 bottle of peroxide (about 50 cents) and 1/2 Cup baking soda. Squirt in a small dab or 2 of liquid dish soap for sudsiness. That's it. Use it on carpets, material, dogs, hair, whatever. It works FAST (almost instantly) and it WORKS!!!!
But for skunks? I wasn't so sure. So I went to my cabinet where all my pet supplies were and found some dog shampoo someone had given me called "Stinky Poo Shampoo". I had never used it. Had no idea where it came from. I laughed. Yeah right. But what the heck. So I grabbed it and also mixed up a potion of the peroxide/baking soda and headed outside with my arsenal of weapons to retrieve the dogs from the cellar.
They looked annoyingly happy with themselves. We had an assembly line of dog-washing.. sudsing them up and letting them soak several minutes and rinsing off.
To make an already-too-long story short, both remedies work and work FANTASTICALLY WELL. I highly recommend "Stinky Poo Shampoo" to EVERYONE". Also the peroxide/baking soda concoction works equally well. Amazing. Who would have thought? We ordered more Stinky Poo from their website. (It's made somewhere in Tennessee, by the way.) The dogs were sprayed about 5 more times in the next 3 days and a momma skunk and her littler of 4 babies were seen lounging around in the barn thereafter. Yay. The peroxide/baking soda works just as well but doesn't smell near as nice or lather quite as well.
They say there are 2 kinds of dogs. Those that learn about skunks after the first encounter, and those that NEVER learn. I know what kind my dogs are. I have 4 bottles of peroxide stashed in my pet supplies cabinet and inquired about purchasing "Stinky Poo" in bulk.
He thought he knew about skunks. When he first came to the U.S. he had heard all about skunks. They had cartoons... Pepe le Pew. But as we were driving down a country road one day and a whiff of that notorious scent wafted his direction through the open car window, he was COMPLETELY startled and gasped "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!?!?!?!" I smiled slyly and asked "you don't know what that smell is?!!?"
Shortly after, we purchases a small bottle of pure skunk oil from a local hunting supply store and put it in a fancy perfume bottle and mailed it to his sister in Germany so she could experience and enjoy.
Anyhow.. I digress.
So about 2 days after we had moved into the farm, I was working very late at my job and came home well after dark. Hubby was anxious to show me how tidy and organized the workshop area of the barn was that he'd spent a good chunk of the day unpacking and setting up. So we walked slowly up to the barn in the cool summer night.. all was quiet and peaceful. We walked into the side doorway of the barn and flipped on the light. He stood by the doorway while I walked on in to check out his handywork. I looked up to see a skunk not walking, but RUNNING up the aisleway of the barn straight towards me.
I yelled "RUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN" and nearly ran completely over my husband who was scrambling to get the heck out of the way. He had no idea what was going on. A snake? I slammed the door shut and yelled "SKUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!""
Then it hit us. The toxic cloud of skunk fumes. Those of you who have never been in very close proximity to a very fresh direct skunk spray have no idea of the potency. It doesn't even smell that familiar skunky smell. It's different. It's toxic. You cannot breathe. Horrible stuff. About that time, one of our 3 Border Collie mix dogs, Süße (means "Sweetie" in German), came slinking around from behind the barn. Stupid Me bent down to bury my nose in her neck fur and take a whiff. I about fell off my feet. Yup. She got hit. It was aweful. Indescribable. About that time, the 2nd of our dogs, Lucy, came bouncing around from the other side of the barn and immediately but happily dropped and rolled around in the wet grass, obviously trying to rid herself of the superstink. Hubby and I looked at each other. Geez.. TWO dogs.
Then I thought... where's Butchie (our 3rd dog). Oh dear. Surely I didn't slam the barn door and lock him in there with the skunk. I called for him and whistled and eventually he appeared out of the darkness. I gave him the sniff test (from a more respectable distance this time) and sure enough, he'd been hit too. What are the chances of ALL THREE DOGS getting hit at the same time.. close range.. direct hits... unbelievable.
We ran to the house to escape the toxic cloud of stink. What to do? Keep in mind, these are dogs that are used to sleeping indoors curled up on our bedroom floor at night. NOW WAY were we going to let them inside. So we put them in the cellar until we could figure something out. It was semi-cozy down there. Concrete walls and floor. Clean and dry. Nice bright lights. Comfy dog beds. They were dogs, for crying out loud.
I went inside and immediately began searching the Internet for a remedy. Baths were imminent but what to use to combat the stink? I found a posting for skunk-detox that used a homemade concoction I knew well and had used before for cat or dog "accidents" on carpet and car seats when NOTHING else would. But hello, SKUNKS???? I would never have believed it. And it's incredibly simple... and incredibly cheap.
1 bottle of peroxide (about 50 cents) and 1/2 Cup baking soda. Squirt in a small dab or 2 of liquid dish soap for sudsiness. That's it. Use it on carpets, material, dogs, hair, whatever. It works FAST (almost instantly) and it WORKS!!!!
But for skunks? I wasn't so sure. So I went to my cabinet where all my pet supplies were and found some dog shampoo someone had given me called "Stinky Poo Shampoo". I had never used it. Had no idea where it came from. I laughed. Yeah right. But what the heck. So I grabbed it and also mixed up a potion of the peroxide/baking soda and headed outside with my arsenal of weapons to retrieve the dogs from the cellar.
They looked annoyingly happy with themselves. We had an assembly line of dog-washing.. sudsing them up and letting them soak several minutes and rinsing off.
To make an already-too-long story short, both remedies work and work FANTASTICALLY WELL. I highly recommend "Stinky Poo Shampoo" to EVERYONE". Also the peroxide/baking soda concoction works equally well. Amazing. Who would have thought? We ordered more Stinky Poo from their website. (It's made somewhere in Tennessee, by the way.) The dogs were sprayed about 5 more times in the next 3 days and a momma skunk and her littler of 4 babies were seen lounging around in the barn thereafter. Yay. The peroxide/baking soda works just as well but doesn't smell near as nice or lather quite as well.
They say there are 2 kinds of dogs. Those that learn about skunks after the first encounter, and those that NEVER learn. I know what kind my dogs are. I have 4 bottles of peroxide stashed in my pet supplies cabinet and inquired about purchasing "Stinky Poo" in bulk.
All Equines should learn to drive
Or rather BE driven, I guess that is.
Our mare, Tessa, is trained to be driven and we have an antique buggy that we hitch her to and have a blast driving around on pretty days. We are eyeing the donkey for this idea also.. a little donkey that would pull a little tiny cart and we could drive.. That'd be quite quaint, don't you think? We saw a pony/donkey cart on Craigslist and went to look at it.. a 2-wheeled pony cart with little tiny leather harness. But they wanted too much money for it. Still searching.
In the meantime, "Sweet Pea".. (that's the donkey name she came with and we haven't come up with anything better yet) is quite the cuddle-bug. She LOVES people and will follow us around like a puppydog. She does NOT like dogs and is astoundingly quick with her front legs and feet and could charge and pummel an unwary dog into the ground with lightning speed! She is learning to trust and accept our dogs though and they are definitely learning to respect her. She's not too wild about cats getting too close either. I can see why donkeys are good protectors of sheep and goats.
We have something sleeping in the barn at night. Every morning we see a tidy little bird-nest looking cozy spot dug into the soft hay and straw in one of the horse's stalls. Never the donkey. I guess she would not put up with such an intruder. But every morning, in either Tessa's stall or Big Red's stall, there will be a very comfy, cozy round nest built deep into the straw about 1 ft in diameter. Would love to know what it is. The horses seem perfectly ok with it. Hope it's not skunks. We've had enough of those!
Our mare, Tessa, is trained to be driven and we have an antique buggy that we hitch her to and have a blast driving around on pretty days. We are eyeing the donkey for this idea also.. a little donkey that would pull a little tiny cart and we could drive.. That'd be quite quaint, don't you think? We saw a pony/donkey cart on Craigslist and went to look at it.. a 2-wheeled pony cart with little tiny leather harness. But they wanted too much money for it. Still searching.
In the meantime, "Sweet Pea".. (that's the donkey name she came with and we haven't come up with anything better yet) is quite the cuddle-bug. She LOVES people and will follow us around like a puppydog. She does NOT like dogs and is astoundingly quick with her front legs and feet and could charge and pummel an unwary dog into the ground with lightning speed! She is learning to trust and accept our dogs though and they are definitely learning to respect her. She's not too wild about cats getting too close either. I can see why donkeys are good protectors of sheep and goats.
We have something sleeping in the barn at night. Every morning we see a tidy little bird-nest looking cozy spot dug into the soft hay and straw in one of the horse's stalls. Never the donkey. I guess she would not put up with such an intruder. But every morning, in either Tessa's stall or Big Red's stall, there will be a very comfy, cozy round nest built deep into the straw about 1 ft in diameter. Would love to know what it is. The horses seem perfectly ok with it. Hope it's not skunks. We've had enough of those!
A Farm Needs a Chicken
Our Chicken George is a riot. As noted, we didn't think he'd last 24 hours on our farm as we have foxes and coyotes and skunks and raccoons and neighboring dogs. But he is one happy chicken. He makes it sound and feel like a real farm. He gives a completely different atmosphere to the entire place.
I think he spent his entire life in a small wire cage and the freedom he has here must make him a very happy chicken. He seems happy. He makes us laugh. We hear him at the crack of dawn crowing inside the barn like CRAZY.. he must drive the animals insane. Then we feed him and he makes all sorts of happy noises clucking softly while he pecks every crumb up.. and we open the barn doors to let him out into the world for the day. We hear him occasionally throughout the day crowing proudly.. and VERY loudly.. from neighboring properties, from the woods, from behind our house.. wherever. He gets around. And then in the late evening, he reappears in the barn, hops up high on the rafters, squats down into a huge puffball that makes him look twice his normal size and snoozes.
Except for that one night that Timm left the tractor out and hadn't put it up until very late at night... George was settled for the night on the tractor seat deciding that was a good place to perch for the night. Silly chicken. That was NOT a good idea.. he needed to be in the barn where it was safe. So since chickens go into some sort of zombie-like state when they are sleepy, I simply reached over and picked him up by his feet and held him in my arms like a lazy cat and carried him gently into the barn and tossed him up on the hay where he ruffled his feathers in indignation and hopped up on his customary rafter to resettle into sleep... or so I thought. Apparently my waking him up had disoriented him and he began crowing... continuously.. and very loudly... VERY loudly... echoing off the metal barn sides and roof. Thankfully by the time I got the stalls all cleaned out and bedded with fresh straw and brought the horses and donkey in and fed them, he had settled down and was quietly snoozing on his rafter.
I like that chicken. He's cool.
I think he spent his entire life in a small wire cage and the freedom he has here must make him a very happy chicken. He seems happy. He makes us laugh. We hear him at the crack of dawn crowing inside the barn like CRAZY.. he must drive the animals insane. Then we feed him and he makes all sorts of happy noises clucking softly while he pecks every crumb up.. and we open the barn doors to let him out into the world for the day. We hear him occasionally throughout the day crowing proudly.. and VERY loudly.. from neighboring properties, from the woods, from behind our house.. wherever. He gets around. And then in the late evening, he reappears in the barn, hops up high on the rafters, squats down into a huge puffball that makes him look twice his normal size and snoozes.
Except for that one night that Timm left the tractor out and hadn't put it up until very late at night... George was settled for the night on the tractor seat deciding that was a good place to perch for the night. Silly chicken. That was NOT a good idea.. he needed to be in the barn where it was safe. So since chickens go into some sort of zombie-like state when they are sleepy, I simply reached over and picked him up by his feet and held him in my arms like a lazy cat and carried him gently into the barn and tossed him up on the hay where he ruffled his feathers in indignation and hopped up on his customary rafter to resettle into sleep... or so I thought. Apparently my waking him up had disoriented him and he began crowing... continuously.. and very loudly... VERY loudly... echoing off the metal barn sides and roof. Thankfully by the time I got the stalls all cleaned out and bedded with fresh straw and brought the horses and donkey in and fed them, he had settled down and was quietly snoozing on his rafter.
I like that chicken. He's cool.
The Christmas Donkey
We have 3 stalls in the barn... but we had only 2 horses. That is a problem isn't it? So I had been half-heartedly browsing Craigslist for weeks for a pony or donkey to occupy the 3rd stall. My justification with this was that the donkey/pony could be good company for our mare Tessa, who is due to foal in the spring and we will be separating her from her pasturemate Big Red in a few months.. so voila, she'd have a little buddy. Also, the donkey/pony would be great company for Tessa's colt next year, or whenever the little guy must be separated from momma for weaning. Also...... well.... I always wanted a donkey.
I have found several ponies of course with everyone wanting to exploit the Christmas season to sell their ponies at premium prices to clueless children. I also have found several donkeys. But none were the right price, the right color, the right age, the right gender, or whatever. They just didn't FEEL right.
Until I saw this one. She was young. She was good natured. She was cheap. She was gray. She was a she. Perfect. I emailed. She was still available. The only problem was that she was about 120 miles away.
Not a problem. I scurried off to the local Co-op to rent a horse trailer, picked up Trish, a good friend and headed off to get my donkey. However, at the Co-op, my plug for trailer lights on my truck did not seem to match up to the trailer's plug for lights so the little guy at the Co-op put an adapter on there... a rather large, heavy, dangly contraption that didn't look like it would stay plugged in and attached but he seemed confident. Off we went.
I might note that it was Christmas Eve. (but isn't that PERFECT? I mean... get it??? Christmas... donkey?????) Anyway, I might also note that it was late afternoon and a horrible thunderstorm was approaching from the direction we were heading.
When we got about halfway there... the man with the donkey called and told us perhaps we shouldn't come because it was raining there so hard you could not see your hand in front of your face. Walls of rain.. unbelievable. However I was on a quest to get my donkey and was NOT to be deterred. I told him I was already halfway there and had rented a horse trailer and everything.. I HAD to come! Besides.. what's a little rain.. I mean, criminy. My trusty cohort Trish commented that I should have advised him he was wasting his cell phone minutes trying to tell me not to come!
About 10 minutes later, it hit. The rain, that is. Unbelievable. Everyone was pulling off the interstate to the shoulder. You honestly could see NOTHING. After a few moments though it lightened up to where people could grope their way very slowly along and gradually it cleared enough to get a reasonable speed up and continue cautiously on our way.
By the time we arrived there.. the rain had stopped. See? no problem! But the man, although friendly and kind, didn't seem to think it was going to exactly be a "piece of cake". It seems his pasture was about 1 foot deep in mud, the donkey had never had a halter on before, let alone taught to lead, so getting the donkey from the muddy pasture to the horse trailer several hundred feed away was NOT going to be easy.
After much coaxing and bribing, he managed to coerce the donkey and her mother into a small square pen in the corner of his muddy pasture. There, he wrestled a halter onto her. She was shy and not happy about that idea. Trish and I waited while he opened the little pen and tried to nudge her in the direction of the gate and the truck beyond.
That's when the fun began. The donkey took off out of the pen through the mud across the field dragging the man hanging VERY stubbornly onto the end of the rope, bent forward with his feet out in front of him like he was waterskiing through the deep mud which was flying everywhere. We were all trying not to laugh, knowing that at any second, he would either land face flat in the mud or let the donkey go. But amazingly, the donkey stopped.. and the man recomposed himself while we all exploded in laughter. Honestly, that was the funniest sight I have seen in a VERY long time and was, in itself, worth the trip down there!
We all pitched in and wrestled the now-much-more-resigned-but-still-quite-stubborn donkey out through the gate, over to the trailer and up into it. (thank heavens she was a LITTLE donkey) He gave us a rooster also.. a white one. We named the chicken "George".
As we were about to leave, the man pointed out that we had no lights working on the trailer. He pointed to the connection where there was SUPPOSED to be the plug adapter at the trailer hitch. It was gone. The wires had dragged along the pavement for many miles and disintegrated. We had no trailer lights. Not good. It was now almost dark. It was foggy. We had 1½ hours of interstate travel between us and home and we were heading back into the rainstorm.... with no trailer lights. AND it was Christmas eve... no store open to get replacement wiring or plug adapter. It was also a wonderful thought knowing we had come down through the thunderstorm also without lights and didn't know it.
hmm. Well what are ya gonna do? The donkey man assured us our truck lights could be seen around the trailer and advised us to use our emergency flashers if weather and visibility turned really nasty. So with no other options, off we went, donkey, chicken and all.
We only got pulled over once, and once we told our story to the nice policeman, he let us go. The rest of the trip home was uneventful.
We released chicken George and unloaded the donkey into her new stall freshly bedded with deep clean soft straw. She was scared and shy but seemed very gentle and sweet. George disappeared to explore the great outdoors. I figured he wouldn't last long but since we had no chicken coop (yet), he was on his own.
Over the next few days in the barn, we bonded with the little donkey and she with us. We introduced her to a halter (we bought her a tiny bright red one when we returned the trailer!) and taught her to lead. Donkeys sure can be stubborn. We gave her all her vaccinations and wormed her and fed her twice a day like the "big horses". She seems happy.
Now she is working on worming her way into the "herd" of other 2 horses in the pasture who have shunned her. Horses are often much like cats... they can act like they hate each other for about the first week or so of introduction and then all of a sudden they are best buddies. Every day, the little donkey is munching closer and closer to the others in the field.
What a perfect Christmas gift to ourselves. A donkey. Was a very cozy, magical atmosphere in the barn with all the horses in their stalls bedded in deep straw, the donkey, the chicken (who returned from the great outdoors to hop up high on the rafters and settle down to snooze), kittens exloring and a few dogs. Very cozy. Life is good.
I have found several ponies of course with everyone wanting to exploit the Christmas season to sell their ponies at premium prices to clueless children. I also have found several donkeys. But none were the right price, the right color, the right age, the right gender, or whatever. They just didn't FEEL right.
Until I saw this one. She was young. She was good natured. She was cheap. She was gray. She was a she. Perfect. I emailed. She was still available. The only problem was that she was about 120 miles away.
Not a problem. I scurried off to the local Co-op to rent a horse trailer, picked up Trish, a good friend and headed off to get my donkey. However, at the Co-op, my plug for trailer lights on my truck did not seem to match up to the trailer's plug for lights so the little guy at the Co-op put an adapter on there... a rather large, heavy, dangly contraption that didn't look like it would stay plugged in and attached but he seemed confident. Off we went.
I might note that it was Christmas Eve. (but isn't that PERFECT? I mean... get it??? Christmas... donkey?????) Anyway, I might also note that it was late afternoon and a horrible thunderstorm was approaching from the direction we were heading.
When we got about halfway there... the man with the donkey called and told us perhaps we shouldn't come because it was raining there so hard you could not see your hand in front of your face. Walls of rain.. unbelievable. However I was on a quest to get my donkey and was NOT to be deterred. I told him I was already halfway there and had rented a horse trailer and everything.. I HAD to come! Besides.. what's a little rain.. I mean, criminy. My trusty cohort Trish commented that I should have advised him he was wasting his cell phone minutes trying to tell me not to come!
About 10 minutes later, it hit. The rain, that is. Unbelievable. Everyone was pulling off the interstate to the shoulder. You honestly could see NOTHING. After a few moments though it lightened up to where people could grope their way very slowly along and gradually it cleared enough to get a reasonable speed up and continue cautiously on our way.
By the time we arrived there.. the rain had stopped. See? no problem! But the man, although friendly and kind, didn't seem to think it was going to exactly be a "piece of cake". It seems his pasture was about 1 foot deep in mud, the donkey had never had a halter on before, let alone taught to lead, so getting the donkey from the muddy pasture to the horse trailer several hundred feed away was NOT going to be easy.
After much coaxing and bribing, he managed to coerce the donkey and her mother into a small square pen in the corner of his muddy pasture. There, he wrestled a halter onto her. She was shy and not happy about that idea. Trish and I waited while he opened the little pen and tried to nudge her in the direction of the gate and the truck beyond.
That's when the fun began. The donkey took off out of the pen through the mud across the field dragging the man hanging VERY stubbornly onto the end of the rope, bent forward with his feet out in front of him like he was waterskiing through the deep mud which was flying everywhere. We were all trying not to laugh, knowing that at any second, he would either land face flat in the mud or let the donkey go. But amazingly, the donkey stopped.. and the man recomposed himself while we all exploded in laughter. Honestly, that was the funniest sight I have seen in a VERY long time and was, in itself, worth the trip down there!
We all pitched in and wrestled the now-much-more-resigned-but-still-quite-stubborn donkey out through the gate, over to the trailer and up into it. (thank heavens she was a LITTLE donkey) He gave us a rooster also.. a white one. We named the chicken "George".
As we were about to leave, the man pointed out that we had no lights working on the trailer. He pointed to the connection where there was SUPPOSED to be the plug adapter at the trailer hitch. It was gone. The wires had dragged along the pavement for many miles and disintegrated. We had no trailer lights. Not good. It was now almost dark. It was foggy. We had 1½ hours of interstate travel between us and home and we were heading back into the rainstorm.... with no trailer lights. AND it was Christmas eve... no store open to get replacement wiring or plug adapter. It was also a wonderful thought knowing we had come down through the thunderstorm also without lights and didn't know it.
hmm. Well what are ya gonna do? The donkey man assured us our truck lights could be seen around the trailer and advised us to use our emergency flashers if weather and visibility turned really nasty. So with no other options, off we went, donkey, chicken and all.
We only got pulled over once, and once we told our story to the nice policeman, he let us go. The rest of the trip home was uneventful.
We released chicken George and unloaded the donkey into her new stall freshly bedded with deep clean soft straw. She was scared and shy but seemed very gentle and sweet. George disappeared to explore the great outdoors. I figured he wouldn't last long but since we had no chicken coop (yet), he was on his own.
Over the next few days in the barn, we bonded with the little donkey and she with us. We introduced her to a halter (we bought her a tiny bright red one when we returned the trailer!) and taught her to lead. Donkeys sure can be stubborn. We gave her all her vaccinations and wormed her and fed her twice a day like the "big horses". She seems happy.
Now she is working on worming her way into the "herd" of other 2 horses in the pasture who have shunned her. Horses are often much like cats... they can act like they hate each other for about the first week or so of introduction and then all of a sudden they are best buddies. Every day, the little donkey is munching closer and closer to the others in the field.
What a perfect Christmas gift to ourselves. A donkey. Was a very cozy, magical atmosphere in the barn with all the horses in their stalls bedded in deep straw, the donkey, the chicken (who returned from the great outdoors to hop up high on the rafters and settle down to snooze), kittens exloring and a few dogs. Very cozy. Life is good.
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