Herd Protection – Check!

A few weeks ago I got a call from a very nice man, Bill, asking if I could take his horses since he had lost his job and had to move away from the farm where he kept them in order to get another job.  They weren’t even really his horses.  He had bought the farm two years ago and the previous owner said he’d be back to get them, but he never came back.  So Bill, being the kind and compassionate man that he is, kept the horses fed and gave them attention for two years.  And as almost always happens, Bill also fell in love with the furry critters and hated having to give them up.

I thought long and hard about whether or not to say Yes.  Then Bill told me that one was a mule and one was a donkey.   Didn’t I just mention a while ago about going to Sugarcreek to get a mule or two for herd protection?  Sure!  I’ll come and get them!

Molly is a flea bitten grey, about 10 years old.  She’s very sweet, but also incredibly protective of her little family.

 

Sassy is a four year old mule, out of Molly.  Sassy isn’t halter broke and it took a couple of hours for Bill to get a halter on her yesterday, and another hour for he and I to get her in the trailer.

 

This is Donkey, the miniature donkey.  I wish I could have gotten a better picture of him, but Molly and Sassy weren’t really interested in letting us near him.  But he’s a very sweet little man who loves attention.

 

Anne went with me on the first trip yesterday and on our way home with Molly and Donkey, I almost ran over this little guy.  He was standing in the middle of the road, all by his lonesome.  How could I resist?

 

Lucky, as Glenn named him, is pretty sick with a nasty sneeze, runny nose, and goopy eyes.   We’ll run him to the vet tomorrow, but right now he’s curled up on my shoulder under my shirt snoozing.  We’re keeping him separated from the other cats and making sure to wash our hands after we’ve handled him, but I really think he’s just got a bad cold.  Not to mention the big wormy belly. 

When he first met Thor, he just threw his little body up against Thor’s head for a rub… no fear of dogs here!  We’ve got him in the side room with the baby chicks (by the way, final count on those from the broody hen: 11!) and he likes to curl up on top of the wire, right above the heat lamp.   The chicks aren’t too happy about it, but I don’t think the little guy is feeling well enough to stir up trouble just yet.  Besides, most of the chicks are bigger than him!

Willpower

Normally, I have none.  Zip.  Zero.  Nada.  Especially when it comes to kittens or puppies.  Or ice cream.  Or chocolate.  Or peaches, cherries, strawberries, blueberries…   I could go on, but you get the drift.  So when I was invited to a cookout at the Olive Branch Rescue today, it should surprise and impress you that I did not come home with one of these.

 

They were cute.  They were cuddly.  They really wanted to chew on my fingers.  So I let them. 

This one had better things to chew on, but he still tried so desperately to impress me.

 

As I walked away, their crying and whimpering broke my heart. 

 

I tried so hard not to go back into the cat house.  I did, I really truly did.  I had already been in there once, for just a minute, and the overflowing kitten population had just been too much.  I was afraid if I went back in, I’d bring one home.  Or two.  Or ten.  I told myself in no uncertain terms was I going back in there.

 

Of course I did.  Was there any doubt??

 

 

Oh no, I’ve been spotted.

 

Oh kitten, please don’t.  You just don’t understand how weak I am.

 

Or maybe you do.

 

That one was so close to coming home with me.  I can’t tell you what a close call it was.  When I finally clawed and pulled myself out of the cat house, I felt relief wash over me at the freedom I had gained.  Yes!  I had done it!  I had proven to myself that I did at least have a smidgen of willpower.

Then this rubbed against my leg and purred.

 

I made the mistake of petting the needy little thing for a minute, then it wouldn’t leave my side.  He followed me everywhere and I was afraid he would jump in the truck with me and I’d be forced to take him home.  Luckily, someone else petted him and he became their problem. 

It was a long hard day fraught with emotion, danger around every corner, and a tremendous sense of inadequacy. 

One that I wish to repeat tomorrow, please.

Somedays I wish I was a horse

Or a cat...

Insomnia has got to be the worst thing for a morning person like myself. And with all the sleeping critters around me all day it's hard to stifle the constant yawns when I'm on the phone with clients. At least working from home provides uninterupted 10 minute cat naps and I don't have to worry about drooling on my keyboard or snoring loud enough for the person in the next cubical to hear me.

But since work has just ended for the day and it's 60 degrees and sunny -- the horses are calling for me to bring the shedding blade and curry brush, the monarda seedlings are begging to be potted up, and the onions are literally dying to get into the garden and out of the loaf pan. I wish I could say Maverick can't wait for me to try trimming his feet, but I have a feeling he's not looking foward to it anymore than I am.

A Day of Pics, and Whiskey's New Name

I ended up giving Whiskey his new name. Of course I did. After all the moaning and groaning about wanting to be the one to name him, Glenn couldn't come up with anything good. Shadowfax, Legolas, Gimli, Spitfire... blech. So from now on, Whiskey's name is Maverick. Not the Tom Cruise Maverick of Top Gun fame, but more the Mel Gibson type Maverick in the corny, yet entertaining western.

We made some pretty good progress yesterday during our two walks to the yard for grass. He stood still and let me curry him from head to butt on both sides, AND I was able to actually spray his mane with Show Sheen and comb out all of the knots! Now if I could just take a pair of scissors to those turd balls on his stomach I'd be thrilled! While out in the yard I had a slight doggy emergency and had to run in the house. I didn't want to tie him up to anything, and he looked so happy eating that I just dropped the rope and ran into the house. A few minutes later I came back out of the house and expected him to be running around the yard free as a bird. He hadn't moved. He was still stuffing his face with grass and allowed me to walk right up to him and pick up the lead rope. Woohoo! It's the little things in life that tickle me pink these days. :)




He's slowly starting to learn that humans might not be all that bad... especially when they know where to scratch.



He's still in the cattle pen for now, the weather has warmed up nicely even tho it's still rains almost every day. The pastures are growing like crazy and I'm hoping to turn him out with Junior before it gets so lush that I have to worry about founder. I don't feel comfortable turning him out in a 10 acre pasture until he's more comfortable with being caught. Catching a horse in a 20x20 cattle pen is hard enough when he doesn't want to be caught!

A few weeks ago, Glenn joined the Arbor Day Foundation for a whopping 10 bucks and got 10 free trees and a Lilac. What a deal. Of course, you couldn't pick which trees you got for free and they're so small they suggest planting them all in a little group with some protection and let them grow for a year. Then you can rip them up transplant them to their "forever home". So today I let the little buggers soak for awhile, then went out with the "crew" and planted: 2- Sargent Crabapples, 2 Eastern Redbuds (these grow wild on the side of the road in VA where we came from), 2 White Flowering Dogwoods (doesn't EVERYONE have these??? how boring), 2 Washington Hawthorns, 2 Goldenrain trees, and 1 fragrant Lilac. This wore out the crew and they are all currently napping. Jilly Bean finds curling up to Heidi's butt warm, but a little stinky now and then.



Jack prefers to have the couch to himself so he can stretch out and really get in a good nap.

And to end this post on a rainy, dreary, and chilly day I post a pic of our place from last summer, the first time we came here to look at the place. Here's to dreaming of warm sunny days and green pastures.

Getting Started

Ah, the beginning bloggers first post. What to say? Where to start? How much can I babble on without losing you? I guess there's nothing for it but to hit the ground running and see what happens!


We bought our first property in September 2007 and moved up here in November. Woohoo! I never thought owning my own place could be so fulfilling and so... unbelievable. I walk around the place thinking about things I'd like to change in the house and I sometimes get that thought in the back of my brain that says 'you need to check with the landlord first'. Ack! Maybe the fact that I am the landlord will sink in eventually, but it hasn't yet. The other day I noticed the cats were tearing up one of the window screens in the living room. When they want to come in the twins climb the screen and hang there until we notice them and let them in. No matter how cute this is, it does very little to increase the life of the window screen and the first thought that popped into my head was 'we'll have to replace that screen before the lease is up'. How long will this last??


We've got a fairly secluded 40 acres here and some mighty grand plans, to include huge organic garden and orchard, riding ring and barn for the horses (that's really for me, the horses couldn't care less), milking goats for making my own cheese, a small beef cattle herd, and chickens. We want to tear down this house and put up something that doesn't have two stair steps going into every room and looks like it was all built at the same time instead of a room here and there over the years. And where does all this DUST come from?? We cleaned the house last night and included the dreadful dusting chore this time. Now I remember why we gave up on dusting for the winter. This morning there was a visible coating of dust on everything again. Ugh, the dust battle goes on.


I would also like to dally a bit in bee keeping and the love of my life (because he may read this) wants to go off grid and experiment with solar power. The place already comes equipped with a high-technology spring-fed cistern that uses some new process called gravity to provide water to the house. This is all fine and dandy, until it rains and our crystal clear delicious water that comes out of the faucet turns into brown silt-laden, do I even want to boil pasta with it, mud. This area had a very bad drought in 2007. People had to haul water in big tanks for home use and livestock all summer, and some are still hauling water on a weekly basis. We listen to the locals tell us all about it and just nod our heads like we believe it... it has done nothing but rain or snow since we moved in! Oh to be able to step outside and not sink into 6 inches of mud, or walk thru the grass without water squishing up to your ankles. This whole place is like a big sponge coated in red indian clay - which makes the sponge very slippery! I have hit the ground enough times to permanently turn the backside of my blue jeans brown. But even with all the problems we've run into so far and the ones I'm sure are still to come, we love this place and wouldn't trade it for anything!


Still here?

If I haven't lost you yet, then check back later for gardening tips, horsey talk, canine hijinks's, feline jokes (I'm almost always the butt of these), and home improvement adventures that will probably never end!