Counting on Others

On a whim this evening, I got together with my friend Kim for a delicious Thai dinner at Noi downtown.  As everything is connected, I ask myself, "Was the food so delicious because the conversation was rich and enjoyable?"  Or "Was the diversity and honesty of the conversation born out of fresh, creative food?  To spend too much time inserting the experience into a logical calculation seems to detract from the beauty and simplicity of friendship and sharing.

One topic led to acknowledging the responsibility of having a ranch full of animals dependent upon me.    I make certain choices or pass on certain indulgences because I always want to be on the top of my game should there be something out of the ordinary with the animals.  Ordinary?  Well...

When I got back home it was just after dusk.  I changed from my "dining out" clothes to my "how many times can my jeans be licked, smudged, wiped upon, muddied up or covered in hay" clothes and set out to complete my evening chores.

First on the list, lock in the hens.  The big girls know to go home at dusk and they each have their own spot that they prefer.  The chicklets are still sorting out their place in the pecking order.  Cinnamon was perched up on the top wire of the 5' no climb fence, as she has taken to doing.  Ginger had decided to sink down into a nesting box, although a gender check is in order with this little one.  But where was Spice?

My small flashlight was not sufficient for looking for a reddish/brown hen in the dark.  Back to the house I went and came out armed with my mag light.  I have learned from a previously missing hen to start looking in the surrounding trees.  I did, and there she was, about 5 1/2 feet up in a tree.  She's a very sweet hen and she likes, as I interpret it, to be cuddled.  I gathered her up, wrapped my arms around her, stroked her maturing feathers and brought her inside to join the rest of the flock.  All ten accounted for.  All ten locked in for the night.

Yes, a big thank you to Archangel Ariel, the protector of animals, was in order.  It's a lot of work to care for all of these animals and each of them has moved deep into my heart.  My dedication to them is all about love, both giving and receiving love.  It's a great weight and knowing someone else is looking over my precious charges gives me comfort and relief.

Safe Flight, My Hens

Jeff and Heather, Chris, Brittany and their two month old angel Luca came over this evening to take several of my hennies to their new home.

The upkeep of three hen houses and the care of 18 hens and one rooster is a challenge for one person.  Jorge, the ranch hand, has been instructed to no longer help me with any of the animal care.  How unfortunate.

A great part of Jorge's love for his job has been working with the animals.  He told me he is uncomfortable with this new directive as he recognizes the labor involved for one person.  He said he was sad about it because he misses the interaction with the animals and the variety in his day, making it anything but routine.

It does tug at my heart to see him drive by the animals and not stop and do some of the things he used to do.  He actually looks the other direction.  He is fighting his instinct as he is a natural caregiver.  The animals do not understand his distance.  They grew fond of him, his kindness and his gentle ways.  The goats used to get daily rides in the golf cart.  Now it's as if he shuns them, but I know it is not so.

The time has come to ease my load a bit.

Juliet, Ruby, Blanca, and Zorra, four of my new baby hens, were put in the poultry crate along with Dumpling and Black, two of my one year old hens.

Dumpling has been like a mother hen to the babies.  She has been showing them around the ranch and the places to find bugs, take a dirt bath and where there is protection and shade for a nap.   When they scratch up by the grasses at the canal, she is always with them.  Black is a very docile Black Australorp who ruffles no feathers.  They will be a harmonious flock.

Chris and Jeff are biologists for the Wildlife Services.  I met Jeff when he answered my call for help in investigating what was killing my ducks.  He's smart.

Jeff had mentioned he was setting up his new chicken coop.  As you may imagine, it is entirely secure and predator proof.  When I made the decision to re-home a few of my hens, he was the first person who came to mind.  Jeff had his flock established already but Chris was just beginning his.

As sad as it was to hand over my hand-raised babies and grown girls, there was a sense of relief.  A touch of relief in my daily chore load; a greater relief that my girls were alive when I said good bye.  It doesn't always work that way on the ranch.