Lorraine

Lorraine: She's more coat than kid as of yet.

Leslie's surviving kid, little Lorraine, still has the saggy skin of a newborn--with more coat than kid at the moment. For now she's spending her time indoors, staying within the safety of the stall rather than venturing into the home pasture. Although the weather has been well above freezing, I've left the heat lamp on for the past couple of nights. Kids take a few days to get to the point where they can regulate their own body temperature.

Leslie has more milk than this single kid will drink as of now. Yippee! I love the extra-fatty milk from our Nubian does, and Leslie is promising to be as good a producer as Miss Marcie this season. Praise God for all the blessings of farm life!

Boot Season

Warm days and abundant rain encourage snakes to appear.

This morning I was reminded quite suddenly that the time for wearing Crocs--those rubber clogs that slip on and off so easily--around the farm has come to an end. Biscuit and I were wandering in the lengthening grasses up near the kennel when a spring snake slithered out and away. He did not rush, but he had obviously been disturbed by our mucking about.

Now the snake we saw this morning (pictured) appears to be of the harmless garden variety, this area is known for copperheads and rattlers. As such, I will try to remember to venture out only after donning socks and boots--if not step-in muck boots, then at least ankle-high tie-on shoes.

Leslie Kids

Leslie labored long before her kids arrived.

Yesterday our final dairy doe kidded, finishing off the spring 2012 kidding season for us. Miss Leslie had quietly been getting wider and heavier for some weeks, and when her time came I was lucky to have been able to hang close to her for the day. She was in labor for a good while before the first kid began to make an appearance. When her nose became visible, no little hooves accompanied it--although momma strained valiantly--so I intervened and helped deliver the first kid.

The alpacas listened and stayed close as she labored,
getting up to watch once the kids were delivered.

The appearance of Leslie's first doeling gave us cause for celebration, but no sooner had she cleaned the first kid off, than a second appeared. This little doeling was aligned correctly, but momma was tired so I pulled a bit as she pushed and out she came--another perfect kid.

Two beautiful doelings.

Both kids were pretty floppy that first day. When they rose to nurse, they were unstable and they seemed most steady "standing" on their knees. Although I saw each nurse and spent the afternoon with the dam waiting for the afterbirth to fully pass, the kids didn't have the strength I would have liked to see.

When morning came, both kids demonstrated evidence of "floppy kid syndrome," a phenomenon I had only read about before today but which is most aptly named. Unfortunately, even after being fed with a stomach tube, the second kid did not live. Although I have gotten used to allowing Nature to take the animals she chooses, in a season of female births, I was sorry to lose a promising dairy doeling.

The thriving kid, named Lorraine, is sleeping enough for two kids as she adjusts to her life outside the womb.

Springtime

This is just a part of the springtime carpet decorating our farm.

The wildflowers of springtime have begun to carpet the landscape. As the trees explode into leaf and the earth renews her green mantle, I enjoy poking around the farm and countryside because every day looks different and beautiful. If I had time, I imagine I would be out photographing often, but usually I drive by a dozen scenes on my way from here to there and think What a nice picture that would make, without stopping.

The trees, buds, and flowers unfolding present a magical treat. Another joy is the number of young appearing: kids, calves, foals, and fawns abound. Watching the endless cycle of life play out through the changing seasons delights me to no end. I do love life here in Middle Tennessee.

Cannibalistic Chickens

Biscuit treat: an egg wearing the yolk of its predecessor.

Those white Leghorn chickens have become problematic. Not only did they kill one of their own a while back, but now they have begun eating their eggs--regularly. The three white eggs we should be collecting per day have dwindled. Some days we get one; many days we get none at all.

I suppose it is my fault. By sometimes dropping an egg though the chain link between the hens and Biscuit, the kenneled livestock guardian, I allowed them to get a taste for eggs by reaching through the mesh. Although I noticed it at the time, I did not realize that I was actually helping them to acquire a taste for eggs.

Now even if I wanted to let them free-range with the other birds, I fear that this would put the rest of our egg harvest at risk--so they will remain caged, although I do hope to transfer them to a pasture-based chicken tractor soon.