Fierce Protectors

This has come up before and again in the past couple of weeks, and that is how protective my animals are of me.  It isn't until someone else points it out that I am aware of it.  I don't think of them as protecting me, but only of how protecting them is my mission, part of my commitment to them.

When I stop and think of it though, we are a family and very bonded to one another, regardless of species.  Thinking about my own human biological family, we are fiercely protective of each other if someone else criticizes one of us or makes life difficult for one of us. It only stands to reason that my pack family would be the same.

Aside from the poodles, all of the animals are prey species, meaning, they are not predatory. But each of them has at one time or another come to my defense. I can recall very specific stories. And it isn't that I've been threatened all of those times, but it is what they have perceived. Sometimes, it has been one defending me from another, mainly Pippin.

I know that can be humorous but there have been a couple of instances where I have needed help because he turned on me without warning.  It has been a long time since I've needed to call on Shadow to help me. All I would do was call out, "Shadow!" with a very certain sound in my voice, and that angel of mine would come running from wherever he was. Pippin would back off immediately and proceed to be broadsided by all of Shadow's might if he didn't move quickly enough.  And then Shadow would stand tall beside me until I let him know I was safe. (And then I would proceed to comfort Pippin after being charged by his big brother.)

There are other stories like this that I can recall, when there was no denying one of them was looking after me. It makes me think how proud and fulfilled they must feel because when I care for them, when I command Shadow off of Pippin, or catch Alibi wanting to nip at Shadow's little behind, I know how strong I feel.

It is an honor to protect another. I think we all wear that badge of love with pride.

New Rules #107

If you're going to take a horse off the property for a walk, you must be sure to lock the goodles in the dry lot before setting out.

It was Faramir's turn for a good walk around the neighborhood.  The goats were out tearing through my nicely stacked hay bales, the dogs have learned to sit by the corner of the fence until they see us coming back up the rise, the hens were scratching in the softening earth.

As we head out on my road, the dogs run along the fence to the furthest corner they can and then sit and wait for our return.

Faramir and I got about 1/4 mile out on our walk when it dawned on me that when the dogs run, the goats run.  And what's in that furthest corner where the poodles wait?  The hen house.

"Argh! Come on Faramir!" I blurted as we did an about face and attempted a respectful jog back home.  As we came up the rise in sight of the hen house, I called out and I could see Pippin outside the hen house, which only meant Shadow was inside.  Goats are definitely not supposed to eat grain and once they get a taste it's good luck momma trying to get a 180lb horned goat to give it up.

We made it back, heart in my throat, Faramir wondering what that fuss was about, got the gate unchained, convinced Pinkie not to nip at the horse, chained the gate again and breathlessly stumbled our way to the hen house.  As predictable goat behavior would have it, I made a really scary sound and Shadow came bolting out eyes wide open looking for that big monster.  I lunged forward and quickly closed and latched the door. "Whew." I let my breath catch up and turned for Faramir who had walked off to take in his own moment of exploration.

All was well.  All secured.  Faramir was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to meet the neighbors I had told him about but Alibi sure was glad we were back early enough for him to get out for a walk.

I followed my new rule and delighted in an easy pace until the sun set with my horse.

It's Official...the Goodles are Weaned

For my dad on his birthday.

A very big day for the goodles--no bottle.

Wow, it's a little sad and also exciting as well as liberating.  Tonight I went to the barn armed only with a bag of prepared salad mix and a lot of momma love.  No bottle bucket.

Shadow and Pippin ran to the stool where I sit, used to sit, to feed them but quickly turned back when they realized I wasn't joining them.  Pippin immediately dove into the bowl with salad mix and Shadow to the feeder just stocked today with very lush and tasty Orchard Grass hay from last month's cutting at Jeff and Barb's.

They didn't seem to be affected too much by the change in routine.

My boys are getting big, growing up.  They still call out "ma'aaaa" when they scare or are unsure.  I think I still need that.

Talking with the Animals

Why this secret of the joy of animals was not apparent to me until just recently, I'll never know. I'm just glad I finally figured it out!

In the course of a day, twice a day at least, I check in on and feed: 6 chickens, 2 dogs, 11 horses, 1 cockatiel and countless wild birds Eventually Larry and I eat.

It's obvious that animals bond to the person with food. And then there is the bonding that goes beyond the feed dish. There is acknowledgement, communication, friendship, companionship, love, sharing, giving and receiving. Mighty enjoyable.

So, Pippin is in the barn with laminitis. For those of you who do not know, this is a painful condition in horses' feet and if treated at the get-go and treated aggressively, the horse can recover. If not treated properly, the condition worsens and can lame a horse to the point of needing to euthanize. A word we do not care for in these parts.

I heard he had a tough day yesterday while I was gone. He was being shod and he flipped himself over backward in cross-ties (ties that connect to a post in the barn and to the sides of his halter.) It could have been the pain of having nails pounded into his feet. Normally, this is painless, but with the inflammation and pain of laminitis, we can only imagine it is not comfortable.

A double-edged sword. The shoes are critical to helping his feet heal.

So, when I got back, I stopped in to the barn to check on him. His face is all scratched up from the flip, his hind is scratched, his side too. He came to the stall door to greet me and show me his wounds.

I said, "Pippin, are you feeling better? Tell me what hurts."

Pippin backed up to the back of the stall, looked at me with focused eyes and in an alternating fashion, he lifted first his left leg, then his right, then his left again and again his right. He walked back up to me and we just cuddled.

He knows I'm there to care for him and help him. I added 3 more bags of pine shavings to give even more cushion to his stall floor.

Today, I was in the dry lot with my boys, Tripper and Alibi, scooping up their poop. They were walking around as they do, following me, nudging me hello, walking off.

Tripper came up to me, smelled the poop bucket I was filling and walked to the side of it. I looked at him and said, "Are you going to poop right there?" He pooped, right there. After he finished, I thanked him for making it so easy for me to pick up and he walked back from where he came.

Oh, the stories are adding up. The greatest thing is to believe and recognize how animals communicate with us. They are not just receiving whatever we send their way. And if you pay attention and listen with your eyes, heart, energy field, ears, hands, smell, even tasting the dust off their face when you kiss them, you will hear them.

It's not always easy to clear everything else out of their incoming communication path, but when you can, the message is loud and clear.