Was I Misreading Everything?

This is a question I have been asking myself for the last several hours.

The day began after waking from a very vivid and disturbing dream about a death, a bloody face and sounds that made my skin crawl. Everything this morning checked out okay when I was out doing my chores, so I filed the dream away to be revisited later.

While inside working, I heard a strange chicken sound and when I went to the window I saw Ginger running from one spot to another, but it wasn't a panic run so I thought everything was fine. At lunch, I moved the horses to the arena and Faramir was the last to be moved.  Usually the last one runs back and forth along the fence line certain that the minutes it takes me to return are hours. Instead, he was jumping, turning around, kicking and snorting all at the gate area.  I watched him and thought something must be biting him or scratching him. But when I took him out and looked him over, all was fine.

Then there was another strange occurrence. It was a thump of sorts. Pippin ran, I saw Alibi in the arena looking toward the barn, and there on the gravel was a Red Tailed Hawk.  What's so strange about this is that they don't fly much overhead here because I don't have pasture and grasses and I think they have better hunting elsewhere.  Of course, I dropped my manure fork and went running to be sure it wasn't hurt and then prey for the dogs.  Instead, it took off and I saw several of the girls tucked behind the canisters along the barn wall.  Upon further inspection, I saw four feet on the other side of the barn wall so I went in to find Helen and Cinnamon.  They had run for cover.  Everyone seemed fine.

I returned to my poop scooping, emptied the bucket and on the way back in, I saw Shadow go to the water trough to drink and then jump back and run off.  Now that was strange.  And that's when I realized nothing was fine.  My sweet Spice girl had fallen in the trough and drowned. My gasp got everyone's attention.  It has been my biggest fear that this could happen and it's why I keep the trough as full as possible to avoid someone falling in and if it happened, they could reach the side.  It's how I imagine it would go.  Well, of course, the horses and goats drink and the water goes down and my guess is she went to the edge as she has been doing for almost two years, dipped down to reach the water and slipped.

Was it her I heard earlier?  Was Faramir telling me something wasn't right? Was the hawk an omen?

I think I missed some signs.

While I was digging, Ginger went over to Spice and I could hear him talking to her. They were best of friends. And then as if in mourning, all the hens went to the hen house, much earlier than they usually do. Locking them in for the night broke my heart again when I realized Spice wouldn't be on the upper ledge she likes to sleep on every night.

Spice was a funny girl.  She was a big talker. She would follow me around and talk.  Just about every day I would pick her up and hug her and she let me.  Back when she was a pullet, she was one of the first ones to jump out of their crib.  And then she would wander off on her own, so independent.  She and Ginger used to sleep up in the juniper tree and every night I would take them down and put them in the hen house.

And to remind me to pay attention, Bodie had some kind of feces in his hair.  He never does that, that's Pinkie's M.O. When I came in, Pooker was calling but not from her cage; she had managed to fly over to the front window.

I can do without days like today.

My Dogs Aren't Just Cute

I may have mentioned our rogue rooster before. If he isn't careful, there may not be much more to mention about him!

This pesky rooster just goes out of his way to find me and attack me. Yes, I have tried all the things people say to do to let him know who's boss, but he just doesn't buy it. My left shin has what seems might be a permanent reminder of one of his attacks.

This afternoon I went in the hen pen to feed and only Baby was there. Not unusual, she usually stays close to home while the others are off on any part of the ranch at any given moment. We had our little chat, she said thank you and out I went.

I was outside the hen house collecting eggs and out of nowhere Peep Peep comes charging at my legs! I caught the flash of his tailless body as he lunged forward and I was able to get my foot out to push him back. As I was grabbing the broom--he is relentless--I was yelling, "Bodie!"

In no time did my caped Mini Australian Shepherd come running around the hen pen, he looked up at me to get the okay and he went to work. Bodie is a herding dog. Peep Peep got herd.

Because this has happened, oh I don't know how many times before, we've got a routine. Bodie runs him around for a bit then looks back at me for the signal to come back-- or no signal.

I mean, how comforting is that to know that I can call out for my dog and he will come running ready for whatever job is awaiting him?!

Now Pinkie, she's more of a chewer than a chaser. She now understands that the ducks and hens are not part of her free-choice plate, but I always keep a close eye on her as she tends to crouch and stalk.

Two days ago I was again at the hen pen and Peep Peep comes after me (this time he hit me hard but I had on my tall boots, just a little ouch.) I called out, "Bodie!" Pinkie was just beside me and from the distress in my voice, she knew her momma needed help.

I wasn't quite sure how it was going to turn out for Peep Peep but my girl had learned the lesson well. She immediately darted toward him and had him running--faster than Bodie makes him run. When I called her off, she came back to me right away just as Bodie was keying in on the rooster from the other side.

Honestly, I have never felt so protected and loved as by these dogs. Larry keeps telling me, "They'll never let anyone near you" but what do I know about those things. He's right.

My superhero and supershero watch me like a hawk (bad analogy around here) and they want nothing more than to make me happy and keep me safe and sound. And let's face it, that cookie they get when we go back in the house isn't that bad either.

It's Not Easy Waking a Sleeping Chicken

A typical ranch day, if there is such a thing, concludes with counting all six chickens and locking up their pen.

Just before dusk they all make their way back to their hen house and climb in, make a heck of a ruckus organizing themselves, and then they settle in for the night. I count them up just to be sure all have returned, and then close their gate so no night-time predator can create its own ruckus with my hens.

It has been getting darker earlier and I was behind in my evening duties. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 5? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Hmmmmmm. It's Alice. Where is she? It was hard to see and to top it off, Alice is black and white.

I set out calling her, looking in all the places they visit throughout the day, under tree roots, under cars and trailers, in the creek, by the horse snack dishes (see photo.) Was it that monster hawk who got her?

Lately, my hens have been laying their eggs up in my hay bales. They have 4 perfectly comfortable and sheltered nesting boxes, but apparently they've tired of them. For days I was wondering if they had stopped laying eggs as there weren't any in the hen house when I would go collect them. It didn't make sense. My hens weren't quite a year into their laying.

Then one day I followed the hens out of their pen in the morning and watched one head straight for the hay shed, hop up a few bales, climb onto a wood post (see another photo) and then go down between the wood sides and the hay bales and tuck herself into a hole created in the hay bales (see other photo.) When she finally came out, I looked in and found 5 eggs! The jackpot.

So now, I climb in between the wood sides and hay bales and slowly lower myself down as to not catch myself on the snags on the wood and reach in, blindly because the space is so tight I can't turn my head, and retrieve the eggs.

Well, back to this evening of missing Alice. It dawned on me, maybe she's in her nesting spot. I look in from the horse lot beside and there she is, sleeping. I can't leave her there overnight, she'd be exposed to the feral cats, raccoons, and whatever else would climb in to bother a chicken. I couldn't climb in to get her because I had seen Bodie climb in there and a startled chicken fly out and that wasn't pretty on account of the lack of room to maneuver.

So there I stood, on the other side of the posts calling to the sleeping chicken: "Alice!" "Kiss Kiss Kiss" "Wake up girl!" "yooooo hooooo!"

It's not easy to wake a sleeping chicken. In fact, they tell you that the easiest way to catch a chicken or rooster is at night...if you can reach them.

So I took a stick and pushed it through to the hay and got her to perk up a bit. Then I had to scare her to get her out. Ugh. She jumped out, over the bales, down to the ground and ran straight for the hen house--and they can run as fast as 9 mph.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Clink went the gate lock.

Now, we have 6 ducks and a goose. They swim in the pond. Can you imagine what it's like trying to round them up to get them in at night? There is an owl that perches overhead; they seem oblivious. I have spent lots of time going from one end of the pond to the other trying to get them out. And look! They can swim clear to the middle! (see duck photo)

Despite how it may appear, my days are never the same.

Wild Animal Kingdom

I know I've said before that ranch life can be harsh, but the sweet birds at my feeder?!

We moved the bird feeder to the front of the house as the side patio is being worked on. It's pleasing to look out at the birds feeding while I myself am feeding at the dining table.

No sooner did I tell Larry the story that a Stellar Jay had come in and spooked off the smaller birds so I spooked off the Jay and the little ones quickly returned, than a falcon swooped in fast and furious, chased a small bird off and out over the pasture, caught it, and took it down to the ground and we must assume ate it based on the rough and tumble we saw going on!

Harsh!

We sat with our jaws dropped. It happened right in front of our eyes. We had to assume it was a falcon. What other bird the size of a large dove would eat a live bird?

A few minutes later, it came back, swooping through, and perched itself in the branches of one of the Junipers beside the house. I took the binoculars to be sure, and yes, it was a falcon. I went out and shooed it away, making threatening noises and clapping. It flew out over the pasture again and landed in a tree to the west. Eventually it moved on.

But really? Pretty little birds at the feeder being picked off by a falcon?

And I thought my biggest concern was the monster hawk scouting out the chickens and ducks.

Well, it is a wild animal kingdom, after all. But maybe we relocate the feeder.