My Beak, Your Muzzle

JoJo the gander makes it his business to snap at as many animals as he can catch in any given day. Young puppies or kids submit in fear under his attacks. Older ones are less fearful, although JoJo has been known to "ride" adult goats or dogs as he chases them.

Oddly enough Ms. Kathleen, who is just shy of a year old, seems to have taken a shine to JoJo's attentions. Rather than seeing the attacks as malicious, she seems to view them as acceptable attention of a sort. Perhaps she even accepts his nips as a form of scratching.

Whatever she's thinking, I'm amused to watch them meet across a fence. Kathleen comes smiling to the barrier on her side. JoJo stalks up, neck outstretched, to the panel through which he can walk when he so chooses. The dog lies down and places her head within the gander's easy reach. When he reaches in to nibble, she seems pleased to receive the attention.

I still have not quite figured out this strange relationship; however, the two animals seem quite content with their odd arrangement. Stranger things have happened, I am sure.

In Honor of Sweet Pea

 Although felines get little attention in these blog posts, their presence around the farm gives us pleasure nonetheless. One of the cats to grace our yard was a visitor from next door, a fluffy, one-eyed cat named Sweet Pea. On occasion I might encounter him somewhere around the front or side of the house, heading busily for some definite destination, lurking in the grass, or just lazing in the sun. 

 After Annabelle and Barney arrived to become our official barn cats, and once they got settled in, we believe that Barney as Sweet Pea tangled a time or two. Barney certainly came home with his sleek, black coat thinned in places. When our neighbor Theresa reported that Sweet Pea had been fighting, we figured out that Sweet Pea was most likely Barney's adversary in the yard.

Sadly, this morning Theresa found Sweet Pea dead beside her driveway. He appeared to have been poised for attack; he did not go down without a fight. We're hoping that Barney is not to blame, but Theresa did say that Sweet Pea has been unwell, and that he even had an odor of death clinging to him when she last saw him.

So long Sweet Pea. You will be missed. Happy Hunting in Kitty Heaven!

Waiting on Water

June has rolled in wearing a full-length cloak of humidity, buttoned up tight to her chin. Breathing deeply is a challenge. Staying hydrated is a full time job as the sheen of perspiration coats one immediately after stepping outdoors.

Today the mares enjoyed a few bites of green in the enclosure down front, eagerly awaiting the day when the first automatic waterers will be installed and a pasture with an endless water supply is provided for them. Right now they have half of a 55-gallon plastic drum serving as a pasture watering hole, but in this weather it's known to get sucked dry in short order. Then the gals paw at their bucket so that it flips on its side and rolls down the hill...ensuring that they'll have to wait for me to fetch it back to where the hose can reach it before they get more.

The closest automatic watering trough will be installed just a few feet from where the gals were grazing today. This project was begun about a year ago when we had a well drilled to provide fresh water for the farm. Days with heavy equipment driving over the pastures and through the woods resulted in a myriad of ditches until the water lines could be installed and the ditches filled in again. Between time and weather, getting the job done has not been easy. One good rain results in ground boggy enough to trap any of the heavy equipment needed for the job and days must pass before the ground becomes dry enough to work again. Since last summer we've had a mountain of ten Ritchie sheep-and-goat watering troughs awaiting installation. Very soon we hope to have the first three up and running.

The plastic troughs themselves are quite affordable, but the rock (at least six inches thick, if my recollection is right) and the four-inch-thick cement pad required beneath each trough gets costly--especially when the trough will be located on a slope, as most of ours must be. Plus, most of the materials cannot be delivered directly to the sites. The rock, gravel, even cement must get carted to each site by the bucket load. We're lucky to have conscientious, experienced help for this job who not only aim to get the job done with an eye on the long-range cost, but who also are responsible working around the various animals on this farm.

When all is done and even after the bills are all paid, we'll be indebted to Ash Drilling and Bowen Backhoe & Dozer Service for years to come.

Kidding Season Concludes

This morning brought the conclusion of the winter 2010 kidding season here on P&CW Farm. Isobel, one of the big black-and-white Tennessee Fainting goats, had been holding out until today when she graced our pasture with twin kids. The pair may have been a bit premature, given the softness of their feet, the doeling's still-folded ear, and the buckling's hairless, almost translucent scrotum; however, by afternoon they were running around the pasture like old pros.

We named the doeling Carla for a dear cousin we saw recently. The buckling is named Kyle for a friend whose birthday is ten days hence. Carla is mostly black with a few white spots on her side, while Kyle has a matched set of white socks that appear extra-fluffy and distinctive facial stripes. I wonder if Joshua, the little multicolored fainting buck is their sire. The absence of blue eyes (phew!), Kyle's classic markings and his longer coat provide clues.

Newborn kids are the sweetest to hold. Unlike babies or puppies, they arrive ready to walk and very cute. Th cuddly phase lasts longer when we take the time to handle them each day. Unfortunately this spring I have not taken as much time with many of them as I would have liked. The kids born in January are the friendliest with us, and seek out human attention.

I will try to handle the newer kids--Jack and Josie, Uncle Phil, Grandma D, Costa, and now Kyle and Carla--more frequently while they are still little.

"Singing in the Rain"

Over the weekend torrential rains produced record flooding in and around Nashville. Although we managed to be away overnight for a family event, life at the farm continued apace. Caitlyn, the pretty tan-and-white pinto Tennessee Fainting Goat chose this weekend to give birth. When I let the herd out this morning, I met the little guy, another tan-and-white pinto buckling. I wondered at the singleton birth, remembering how last year she bore twins even though one was decidedly weaker and died after about a week, but was too busy bustling about to search for any goats not strong enough to call out. This guy must have been born Sunday, during the rains.

At one point on Saturday evening our good neighbor Theresa sent a text message to us saying that our wooden fence was underwater, but I could not imagine what she meant. We have a tall wooden privacy fence between our houses, both of which sit high on a hill, and I did not see how that could get submerged. Having temporarily forgotten the four-board wooden fence installed by our friend Jeff of Barns and More, located at the front of our property which is at the base of the slope, we were mystified by her message. Later a telephone call cleared up the mystery, but I was still flabbergasted that the creek had risen so high. On Sunday our farm sitter reported that the water from the creek had nearly reached all the way across to our driveway. When we returned to town late Sunday night, it took us three tries to get from the Interstate to our house because flooded roads rerouted us for several miles.

Today when I let the goats out, all was still very wet. Caitlyn's youngster had a fine set of lungs and so earned himself the name Gene Kelly, in honor of the man who gave the famous  swinging-on-the-light pole performance of "Singing in the Rain" back when the movies were called moving pictures and films were shot in black and white. The little guy was glad to be reunited with his momma.

And, oh, need I say this? The kid has blue eyes.




Note: Lower left photo depicts water pooled under the hay storage trailer, a spot that was used for goat housing last summer, in the recess left by the beginnings of my spring cleaning of the muck. Lower right photo depicts Molly strolling up the driveway past a brand-new water-channeled rut left as a souvenier of the weekend.