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.

Western Medicine

When possible, I avoid taking medicines and over the counter drugs, preferring effective homeopathic remedies.  But, there are times when one must put chemistry over principle and take a prescription in order to feel better.

It's been quite some time since I've had a sinus infection and I don't recall it feeling so terrible.  Funny how our memory filters out pain and discomfort for us.  Yet, this is what I have and I know there is only one way to rid oneself of that horrid illness and that is antibiotics.  It's been a long month of restless sleep, occasional fever, earaches and headaches and overall blahness.  I did nothing more than the strictest of minimum required and even passed on some of that.  Needless to say, I got behind.  In everything.

Today is day five on medication and I woke up feeling like I actually could participate in something with a somewhat clear head and with a renewed energy rather than working from dwindling reserves.  Keeping in mind doctor's orders, "don't overdo it", I have done several changes of laundry, cleaned the kitchen and the floors, climbed on all fours into Pinkie's kennel and scrubbed it out, took out the trash and recycling and washed the trash can, done a little work work, caught up on poop scooping, scrubbed some water buckets, played endless fetch with the poodles who were so happy momma could once again fling that ball with some umph, hammered a loose flashing on the horse shelter, fixed a pesky part of the fencing that keeps coming down, watched the Bald Eagle new eaglet activity and the beginnings of the second egg hatching, talked to my mom, topped off with a few more miscellaneous items.  And I still have a little left to give!

I'm going to start slowing down for the day as I might be coming close to the overdo limit.  It's when your meds really kick in that you realize just how crappy you have been feeling.

Good health is on the horizon!  May you be healthy as well.

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.

Silly Hen

It's a bit after 11pm and the poodles and I just got back in from a late evening feed and then a 15 minute forensic search for one of my hens.

I went down late to lock them in and only counted 11.  One of my black and white Barred Rock hens, either Alice or Baby, was missing.  It's never a good feeling.

My headlamp wasn't strong enough to do a thorough search on a winter's night of the new moon.  The stars are magnificent but still not enough wattage for a hen search.  So, back to the house to get my mag light and back down to continue looking.

Oh, the temperature is about 9 degrees.  I wasn't so cold but I was concerned that if I couldn't find her that my hen was in a safe place where she alone could keep herself warm.  They have quite a suit of downy feathers these days, but at night they nuggle together on their roosting bar.  I'm not sure if it's for warmth or safety.

Going through my list of previous experiences with missing hens, I felt optimistic that she had not been snatched by a predator but for some reason did not return the hen house when everyone else did.  This is when I wish my dogs were trained to flush out a bird.  There is a lot of sage bush around and plenty of trees where she could hide.

After coming around for the second time, I started to look up.  Maybe instead of digging in to the dirt as they do during the day, she went up to roost.  Whew!  Big sigh.  There she was perched on a branch of their favorite Juniper tree.  It's so big and full with very low hanging branches and plenty of loose dirt around the bottom that there is where they spend a lot of their time.

Thankfully I could push through the branches enough to pick up my hen and bring her back home.  Red the rooster had much to say about her clucklings; perhaps a welcoming back home, perhaps a disciplinary comment.  It was a  satisfying feeling to close up that door knowing all 12 of my chickens are safe and sound and settling down for a long winter's nap.