Chicks at Last!

Our first sighting of 2011 chicks appeared in late June.

So far this year we have not seen young chicks about the farm. After last year's steady stream of new broods following Kimberly, one of our few named hens, we found the absence of chicks unusual. Aside from the intense periods of heat we have had, I cannot imagine what has changed for the hens. In fact, we have a good four or five broody hens this season. "Broody" refers to a hen who dedicates her days to incubating a clutch of eggs, nurturing a new brood of soon-to-be hatchlings.

This afternoon I finally spied one of last year's hens hiding an interesting assortment of chicks in the green growth just outside the barn. The chicks are differently colored and patterned, making a pretty brood beside their guardian mama hen.

My only concern for this new brood is their lack of safe hiding places. Since a recent storm dropped trees across the home pasture fences, the dogs and goats can readily travel into and out of the home pasture at will--making the pasture a less than entirely safe space for new chicks. Our youngest livestock guardian, Biscuit, truly appreciates the flavor of fresh chicken. Since he's responsible for the home pasture these days, the only place mama hen can hide her brood from him is inside the barn--not a place for raising young chicks when fresh air, sunshine, greens and bugs beckon just outside in the pasture.

Good luck, mama hen. You're going to need it to raise this brood to adolescence.

Getting Cool in the Pools

Alpaca Spencer claims a pool filled with cool well water.

The hot days of this season are much too warm for anyone who is overdressed. The livestock guardians continue to shed their winter coats in shaggy clumps, but the alpacas are not so lucky.  Unfortunately for them, I let shearing season slip by without managing to engage a shearer. (They do now have an engagement for shearing fast approaching, I am pleased to report.)

Shaggy alpacas jockey for position beside the sprinkler.

Alpaca fiber is delightfully warm in winter. These days our alpacas spend much time seeking respite in the shade and waiting for the sprinkler to be turned on at different times through the day. They can hear when the hose spurts to life and will hasten across the yard to reach the pools and sprinkler.
 
Their date with the shearer cannot come too quickly. Next year, I resolve to schedule shearing in a more timely fashion. 

Waiting to Kid

Marcie: resting and ruminating.

For about a week now, Miss Marcie, our Saanen/Alpine-cross dairy goat has been a lady in waiting. (This may be the only stage of life where she is accused of being a lady; with her leadership qualities, bossy is more her style.) She'll browse with the herd, but she is quick to stop to rest and ruminate. On hot days she's often breathing hard, although she does not seem to be in distress.

Her figure is robust, round and full. Last Sunday, based only on her size and breathing, I decided she must be close to kidding and separated her from the herd. For a couple of reasons, I stuck close by all day. Her herd objected to being ejected from the home pasture, and spent much of their day clustered along the fence as close as they could get to the farm's Dairy Queen.

One reason that I stuck close was that the last time she kidded, Marcie needed help. By the time her dead twins were delivered, she had weakened considerably. I do not want to risk losing her.

The other reason is that last year she tested positive for Caprine Arthritic Encephalitis (CAE), a disease that she can pass along to her kids--especially through the colostrum provided in their first day's milk. I want to be close by when she kids this time to whisk her kids away without even allowing her to lick them dry in order to prevent disease transmission. If she has doe kids, we'll want to raise them to join the dairy herd, so keeping them disease-free is important. If she has bucklings, their future will lie on someone's dinner table, so the transmission of a disease that might impact their joints late in life is of no consequence--they won't be living the three or five years it might take the disease to settle in.

Marcie's herd spent the day trying to be reunited with their matriarch.

If Marcie has doe kids, we will have to decide whether to bottle raise them or not. Since Marcie came to us as a bottle-raised doe who identifies closely with her humans and strives to be the center of our attention, we are a bit leery of bottle-raised kids. However, we have had much luck with getting our dairy does to play nursemaid to any kid, although this begins on the milking stand and may never carry into pasture behavior. Since I would be happy to have little does running eagerly to the milking stand, I expect we will try to go that route.

First, of course, Marcie needs to kid. The day I spent with Marcie in the pasture over the weekend was long enough that my neck and shoulders were sunburned in the evening--a rare occurrence for me. Since then, I've regained my sanity and understand that being heavy with kids does not necessarily mean a doe is anywhere close to her delivery time. For now,  I will continue to check on Miss Marcie frequently and watch for stronger signs of imminent kidding.

Cock of the Walk

This is the young rooster that has managed to peacefully coexist on our farm.

Last fall we wound up with such an overabundance of roosters that our #1 rooster, PrettyBoy, was quite busy kicking tail feathers all across the farm. In the interest of keeping the peace, we placed just over a dozen of the younger roosters in protective custody and began fattening them up for our table with grain.

This left PrettyBoy and Lawrence (our guinea cock) free-ranging with the hens. When we semi-corralled some hens--enclosing them safely out of canine reach behind a low fence ove which they might migrate with ease--we also placed one of the young roosters with that flock. Although he may have survived at first thanks to that fence, these days none of the hens stay in the enclosure for any length of time and the red rooster roams about with some of the younger hens.

Rarely does he antagonize the kingpin. For that kindness, he appears to be left alone to wander and peck in peace. Although we've seen farms with several roosters free-ranging peacefully, I suspect that each flock has its designated rooster for each hen--reducing rivalry among the ranks.

We're glad that this handsome young'un roams about our farm. He's gentle n the eyes and a treat to behold.

Cooling Alpacas

'Paca boys crowd around the sprinkler.

This past weekend I brought home a sprinkler for the alpacas from the Farmers' Co-op. Now instead of hosing down the animals as they jocky for position--getting fairly wet and knocked-around in the process--I just set the sprinkler and turn on the water.

The animals appreciate the convenience, too. I will leave the sprinkler running until they have drifted away. I often did not have the patience to manage the hose myself for that long.



Alpaca gals enjoy standing beneath the sprinkler's falling spray.

True, filling the 'paca pools isn't quite the same, but it's do-able. If I could only figure out a way to fill the pools without them noticing, then call them to play in the water. Ha, that's an unlikely dream.
Better, I need to get on the stick and have them shorn. I missed doing it earlier in the season, and now it's getting critical to unburden them of their heavy fleece.

The Beauty of Electric Fencing



The visible wire contains horses with the aid of flimsy plastic posts.

 Recently I purchased some white cord-type electric fence wire from Edwards Feeds. After spending some weeks moving tube panels and cattle panels around the farm, I decided that it was time to simplify. Edwards also had plastic insulators in a two-piece design that we haven't used before, so we brought home a bag of those as well. Then I set about setting T-posts and wiring up a spot for the horses.

After a few days of this, including moving the boundaries by adding T-posts, I switched to step-in posts. The Wilson County Farmers' Co-op had step-in posts on sale when I stopped in, so I snagged a bundle and brought them home. 'Twas a brilliant move, if I do say so myself.

Now, instead of pounding T-posts into rock, then screwing on insulators, then setting wire, I simply set the plastic step-in posts where ever I choose. I can move the posts with the wire attached, changing the grazing area with ease.

True, it's quickest when I take the trouble to turn off the fence down at the bottom of the hill; however, when I'm feeling lazy, I find the fence easy enough to move without getting zapped. Being able to change pasture parameters so simply makes me wonder why I didn't try doing this sooner.

Haying Season

Here's the first cutting of our neighbor's pasture this year.

Haying season is upon us. This past weekend, everywhere I went, folks were cutting hay. All the rains this spring have promoted good growth. Now that we're in a dry spell, farmers are busily taking advantage of the weather.

We're not haying, of course. First, we have no tractor. Second, all of our pasture areas are used for grazing. As fast as the animals graze down the growth, I try to keep them moving. That, in itself, is enough work for me.

Watching tractors crawl across assorted fields is satisfying. Often when I have occasion to pass a cutting in progress, I'll take note of how far the farmer has gotten, then check his progress on my return trip. The whole process is delightful to watch: the ritual dance of farmers upon their land during warm weather.

Haying takes tremendous dedication and effort. I admire those who undertake the task, and I happily feed local hay through the winter and whenever our pastures need to recover.