NEW LIFE ON THE ROCK ‘N TREE RANCH

Mrs. Frodo Goose, aka: Serenity set with her head drooping low against her chest.  She had been broody for over a month and no signs of a single gosling yet.  We the humans of the ranch had been impatient as well.  We dearly love the fuzzy little goslings and delight in their antics.

More importantly we were worried about Serenity.  It normally takes 28-35 days to incubate goose eggs but she had been broody for over 45 days.  A bird can brood itself to death and we really didn’t want to lose her.  She is Pigwidgeon’s daughter and we had just lost Piggy so we definitely didn’t want to lose her too.

We already had the small pen and coop designated for her and goslings, but now 10 days past due there was no sign of young life and Serenity hadn’t left the nest at all for over a week, nor had she shown any interest in the food and water we had put under the front porch with her trying to encourage her to at least eat and drink. 

We had given up hope and had been trying to tempt her off the nest with every treat we could think of.  We knew that a snake had been in the nest one night three weeks earlier and despite our re-homing him we had no idea if he had damaged the eggs beyond salvation or not.  She wasn’t about to give up, but we had.

Roaming the yard was Casino Muscovy, a handsome drake who no longer had other ducks of any sort to share his life with.  The geese treated him as an outsider and the guineas were far too silly to acknowledge him.  Only Piper Peacock occasionally chatted with him.  He often spent his days in such a glum funk we threatened to change his name to Eeyore.

Because we live in the woods pests of all sorts are a constant problem that must be dealt with.  We prefer natural pest control over all else.  Muscovies are tremendous at pest control.  Snakes, rodents of all types, scorpions, biting flies, wasps, mosquitoes the list that ‘Scovies like to eat is quite long.  But here we were down to one lone ‘Scovy.

After much family discussion we decided on a temporary lift on our agreed upon ban of no new animals for Mr. Casino’s benefit (and ours).  We talked it over with Cas and he told us in no uncertain terms he was lonely and needed a female or two in his life.

He dictated to me the following email which I posted on a local homesteading list on his behalf:

Ladies and Gentlemen of the list,

I am a lonely Muscovy Drake.  All my hens and male companions have gone to the big pond in the sky.  There are far more rodents, snakes, gohphers and biting flies here on the Rock ‘n Tree ranch than I a single male duck can handle.  Therefore, I have consulted with my human charges and convinced them it is time a few hens need to share this natural feeding bounty with me.  If you should know of some HEN (I want no competition thank you very much) Muscovies that would care to share their life with me please contact my female human, Jan at …

Thank you for time,

Casino Muscovy, Esquire

Within 30 minutes I had a response for not the two hens we had agreed upon but four at a reasonable cost. 

Two days later, on Friday afternoon, we went to pick up the lovely ladies you see at the right.  Ms. Cocoa is of course the chocolate colored one.  Henny Penny is the solid white lady.  Both these two already had names. 

We watched the mannerisms of the two pied ones for a bit and decided that the larger one was Faith (after all we all need more faith) and Hope is therefore the smaller one.

As soon as the girls were in the garden trailer and being driven around to the small coop the very despondent Mr. Casino sprang to life!  He was wiggling with delight all over.  His crown went up and he immediately waddled to where they waited to enter their new home. 

When the tail gate on the trailer was opened he leaped into the trailer to be near them.  Inside the cage they were in the girls were saying “A MAAAAAAN!”  There had been no drakes at their previous home.

Despite whispering sweet nothings in their ears Casino refused to join them in the coop.  Holding out for when he could be in a secure run with them. 

The secure run would be, hopefully, prepared the next day.  Because Muscovy hens can fly (our drakes are always too fat) we needed to roof the small section of the pen they would be kept in for 2-3 weeks before being allowed to free range with Casino.  We also needed to put an escape proof gate on that section and it was already nearly dark.

That’s when we heard it.  Anyone who has had a flock of geese where the hens hatch out naturally the cry that goes up from the rest of the flock when they see the first gosling for the first time.  “Congratulations” they scream to the wearied mother. 

“Nooo, it couldn’t be it’s been 45 days since she went broody” ds said as we rushed around to peak and see.  Before we ever got there we heard the high pitched voice of a newly hatched gosling.  Sweet, high and clear. 

Looking under the front door we watched as the little yellow and gray ball of fluff crawled out from under Serenity as she patiently turned her three  remaining eggs.

She gave me such a look, because I had been telling her for days I didn’t think her eggs were fertile and that she should come out and eat before she died.  She had stubbornly refused.

The look told me “I told you so!” as she neatly tucked the chirping gosling under downy chest.

“Houston we have a problem” I said.  We had just put four strange adult birds, that we had no idea of their temperament in the pen that had previously been dedicated for goslings.  “Now what are we going to do?”

Since it was almost dark and Serenity still had eggs to hatch we knew she wouldn’t leave the nest until at least morning.  So we had until the next day to come up with a secure pen for her and her offspring. There are far too many hawks, possums, raccoons, crows and other predators that would delight in nabbing such a tender morsel as a baby goose.

The problem was the little jabber jaws wouldn’t shut up.  It was broadcasting loud and clear “Here I am world!” As if it was talking directly to Mr. O. Possum and his predatory friends. 

We admonished Serenity to shut it up and she quickly tucked the gosling back under her. 

Next Jolie, the ever vigilant bird protector settled herself in for the night on the front porch, with Georgia in the bushes nearby.  We were pretty certain that between the Mama Goose and the two protective dogs the gosling would definitely make it through the night.  I am happy to say we were right.

Saturday we got up early and mulled over the problem of too little space for too many birds.  I proposed one solution, but Sean came up with a better one that Gary modified even further.

Sean headed out to feed and release the penned geese and nearly stepped on a six foot long rat snake headed toward Serenity and the gosling.  Serenity was hissing loudly as he beat back the snake with a stick and used his other hand to call his dad for help. 

They tried to catch the snake to re-home it several miles away, but the snake had other ideas that involved a small yellow and grey gosling.  An idea that did not sit well with the Serenity or the two men.  The snake ended up re-homed to heaven.

As soon as the blast happened Serenity quit hissing, she’d seen this maneuver before, then calmly rolled her three eggs over and tucked the endangered gosling securely under her wing.

During the day Saturday we removed the shanty from the end of the small run.  It was in such bad shape from having a tree dropped on it in an ice and wind storm we spent a lot of time picking up pieces, hoeing and raking to make certain that there were no bits of wire or nails that might hurt the birds.

We have decided to not go back into the bird business for certain so instead of purchasing new fencing to patch the fence where the shanty had stood Gary tore down ten foot of the fencing on what was previously our big pen and moved it to the small run. 

Ideally we would have loved to simply used the big run, but the same wind and ice storm that had destroyed the shanty had torn up the roofing and fencing on the big run horribly.  We had also had some large predator get in that pen with the flock one night and do grievous damage.  The birds refused to ever go in that pen now. So the little pen was our only option, unless I wanted to give up the garden I had already started planting.  That would be a no.

While the two men were doing the heavy lifting and chores that are difficult for me to do I was the “Go-fer” I was sent running anytime a tool was needed we didn’t already have on the work site.

Thirsty?  Lemonade was made and delivered frosty cold along with some salty snacks.  Starting to sweat?  I ran for the dew rags.  Need a different pair of work gloves, hearing protectors, any item they needed I went to gather.  I clocked many a mile all day Saturday. 

As we labored Casino sat in the shade chatting with the girls through the open coop window getting to know them the best he could from so far away.  Yet he refused to enter the coop when given the opportunity.  The drake enjoys his freedom for certain.

So by the end of the day the shanty was torn down and ready to be recycled or burned where applicable.  The fencing was up and we had recycled part of the barn tin from the shanty into a sliding gate of sorts for the newly created gosling day care center in the end of the pen.

Unfortunately we still didn’t have the roof, gates , sun shade or gosling “play pen” fencing up. 

An explanation about the gosling play pen for those who haven’t read my post Lessons Learned post.  Small birds are extremely adept at getting out of what seems to the human eye a secure pen.  Once they get out they are extremely fast and adept of out running adult humans. They will seek shelter under any feathered backside they see and most of the birds that those backsides belong to will fight you to protect those escapees.  I’m too old and fat for such antics any more. If you want to keep them where they belong you add an extra of fencing over the main fencing.  This second layer needs to be either small poultry netting or hardware cloth.  Even with that some baby birds will show you they can climb that stuff and still get out.  So you do your best and create their play pen area with keeping them as secure as possible while leaving them with their Mom.

Luckily goslings two through four had not hatched yet so Jolie and Georgia once again took up their post.

Sunday there was rain in the forecast but it never showed.  We worked hard at trying to complete the areas where goslings needed to be housed and Muscovy hens  needed to be able to get some fresh air.

Not to mention Mr. Casino was getting pretty put out about being able to see the girls through the coop windows, but not being able to really get to know them.  Bless his heart all the time we were working he would set outside the coop at an angle where he could view the lovelies on the roost in the coop and speak softly to them.  What good are other ‘Scovies if a fellow can’t really be near them?

Once again the dogs took their designated posts and the mama goose patiently set on her eggs, we were now headed for day 52.

Sunday morning started out with the aroma of a broken rotted egg coming from under the front porch.  Serenity quickly disposed of the egg, then turned her attention back to the gosling and the two remaining eggs.

We turned our attention to the chores at hand.  While the men put the sunshade over the playpen I started the laundry and baking for the day.  Once the sunshade was up I started adding the layers of wire to keep the little darling(s) in the play pen. 

Saplings were cut for upright supports for the roof for the Muscovy end and the work of putting the roof and predator proofing on began.  Sunday ended with the dogs once again on patrol and the Bird Pen A La Scrounge taking shape nicely.

Yep A La Scrounge.  Because we stay on a strict budget it was determined that this bird pen was to be created with what we had on hand.  We recycled fencing, cut saplings from the property, and the sunshade was an old tarp from another project a few years earlier.  The low gate on the play pen is recycled barn tin, and it is all being held together with, you guessed it baling wire.  Yep we live on a farm. We always have baling wire.

After dinner on Monday the men went outside to finish roofing the duck end of the pen and temporarily put up a gate to keep them secure.  The gate will be permanently hung on Tuesday evening. 

Finally the duck hens were released into the small run.  Casino was absolutely beside himself, not sure which girl to flirt with first.  He is one happy muscovy today.

Under the front porch the little squirt sits in the middle of its mother's back still waiting for those slow poke siblings. Surely they'll hatch soon,

Jan who loves her birds but sometimes thinks they are a lot of work in OK

GOOSE HERDING AT MIDNIGHT

Those of you who are on the various yahoogroups lists with me already know that much of my life is spent chasing one animal or another here on the Rock ‘n Tree Ranch and elsewhere.  Last night was no exception to that rule.

However, some of you may not be familiar with the personalities and habits of geese and the herd dogs that guard them.  So let me give you a little background here. 

Geese are very intelligent birds, unlike guinea fowl—but that’s a story for another day.  They are for the most part the world’s best parents.  The love and care they give their young not only when they are little but as adults is a lesson many humans should learn.

Like humans, geese also have distinctive voices for each individual goose.  When you are familiar with your geese you soon learn their voices just as you would learn the voices of the people you know.  Unlike humans it is the hens that generally have the deeper voices, while the males can shrill and hit quite high notes that will hurt your ears if they are very stressed.  You also learn the different tones of their voices that mean happiness, fear, and concern. 

The term pecking order comes from the way poultry handles their hierarchy in their flock. They tend to respect their elders, but the young will battle to be in control of their own level in the pecking order.

In our flock we have the three elders.  These are the twin brother white Embdens Frodo and Magellan.  Pigwidgeon, a big old grey Toulouse gander .  Frodo is the elder statesman of the lot and all the younger geese follow his lead. 

Frodo’s mate is the daughter of Pigwidgeon  and his one and only mate Penelope, more on this in a moment, Serenity. by being of the second generation from Piggie and the mate to Fro-Fro she is of extremely high rank as well.

Piggie, as  Pigwidgeon is generally called, mated with Penny and they had our first successful hatch over nine years ago.  When Penny was broody on her second hatch she lost her life trying to defend her young.  Piggie has mourned her nine long years and has never found a new mate, despite all our efforts to supply him with suitable candidates.  He instead keeps a watchful eye on all the generations of their original offspring that have came since then. As each new round of goslings is hatched Grandpa Piggie helps in their raising and defends them without fail.  In my mind’s eye I often picture Piggie wearing small round wire framed eye glasses.  This is because he seems so old and wise.

Serenity is a good Mama, as her mother was.  She has successfully hatched and raised several goslings over the years.  Last year she hatched four, but one was weak from the beginning and the changes in weather caused it to become ill and die.  She mourned it for days.  Her remaining three Huey, Dewey and Louie she still shepherds around along with Bad Boy and Snowball two orphans she adopted when their own parents died last year. She treats all five yearlings the same.

Mama geese are extremely protective of their eggs and young.  You can read about one such battle for the safety of a hen’s eggs in “Popcorn, the Mom-goose”.

Our flock is guarded 24/7 by the “girls”.  The girls are both rescued dogs with no special training other than their own natural instincts.  I’ve spoke of the girls often.  The alpha is Jolie Marie, an Aussie Collie mix with one brown eye and one blue eye.  Jolie, aka: Jo Jo, is a natural self taught herder.  Generally she can successfully herd the birds where we need them without trouble, mainly because the birds know she’s boss.  However, she does sometimes get frustrated with a panicked bird or a stubborn one.  Generally she will put her long pointy nose on their feathered backside and push them where she wants them.  Other times she will bark at them to order them to behave.

She spends her nights among the birds when they are sleeping outside a pen for one reason or another and outside the pen gate when they are penned.  When one is broody in an unsafe area she stays by it as a guardian every night, no matter the weather.  These are her birds, just ask her.

All night long she and the “enforcer” Misty Georgia, a bouncy loving shepherd mix, patrol keeping the coyotes, possums, and coons away.  While Jolie is a great herder, Georgie is not.  She tries, but she’s too bouncy for the job.  So she uses her energies to chase away the bad guys.

You can see photos of this cast of characters and some of the other 14 geese can be seen at the right.

So now on to last night’s event.

As I have previously said we tend to go to bed with the chickens around here because both men have to get up so early each work day.  So both men were sound asleep and I was dozing when I started hearing “Euh, Euh, Euh,” a pause then a repeat over and over.  I knew the voice and I knew immediately it was Serenity.  Serenity who was suppose to be broody under the front porch on several eggs.  It was nearly 11:30 pm, why was I hearing her under my bedroom window?  She never leaves a nest at night when broody. 

Listening closer I could hear Frodo softly answering from the safety of the garden pen.  Her voice was full of fear and sadness. His shrill was full of concern.  I jumped out of bed to try and peer out the bedroom window to verify what I thought I was hearing.  No luck, the soft grey goose could not be seen in the deep darkness outside. 

I could make out the white silhouette of Frodo in the pen and hear Piggie calling to Serenity as well. 

I could also hear both girls barking an intruder alert.

I scrambled into clothes, grabbed my cell phone and went to get a flashlight.  I saw no reason to wake the guys up if the situation was what I expected.  I felt confident I could handle it by myself, well with Jolie’s help.

The front room flashlight was not where it belonged so I rushed through the house to the sunroom and grabbed the one from there.  Back through the house and headed out the front door.  Listening intently for sounds of terror before I could get there as I went.

As soon as I opened the front door I knew I was right, something had attacked Serenity on her nest.  I knew this before I even checked under the porch because Jolie was not at her post on the porch where she had been sleeping since Serenity went broody a few nights earlier.

 A quick check under the front porch verified what I thought.  Something had definitely attacked the nest, the eggs were gone and so was Serenity.  I could hear her near the garden and hurried that direction to see if she was injured. 

She was racing back and forth up and down the perimeter of the fenced garden trying frantically to get to her mate and father who were racing up and down with her on the inside of the fence.  Just past where she was a coyote yelped.  The whole flock came to life and started screaming “Coyote, coyote!”

Out of nowhere Jolie placed her cold nose against my hand to let me know she was there.  Georgia could be heard barking warnings to the coyotes that these were her birds and they were to leave the area NOW!

I spoke quietly to Serenity as I slowly approached the grief stricken panicked bird.  She wouldn’t let me near her so I instead opened the gate planning on trying to simply herd her through it as we would normally do.  That was my plan, but by this time Serenity was inconsolable and had lost all reason. 

Jolie then tried to put her up, but Serenity wouldn’t listen to Jolie either.  Frustrated Jo-Jo  tried to nose the goose toward the gate, a tactic that generally works.

Instead Serenity, who must of thought it was the coyote after her, started flogging Jolie.  Jolie maintained her cool and did not snap at the goose as most animals would have.  She instead backed up and came to my side to wait for the goose to settle down. 

About that time there was another coyote yelp from near the gate side of the garden and the now totally panicked hen took off in the opposite direction in full out flight mode.  Heading toward the clear cut and certain death if she got that far.

“Retrieve Jolie, don’t let her get in the woods.”  I said and Jolie sped off full tilt after the bird, passing her in ease within a few seconds.  She turned her back toward the garden, but the bird went to the coop side of the shanty rather than the way she needed to go.  She was now back in a safe zone, cornered and even more frantic.

Frodo and Piggie ran to that side of the garden pen and stood talking to her, obviously trying to calm her down.  I could almost hear them saying “let Mom hug you, she’ll put you in the pen.”

Hugging is our term for picking up the bird and hugging them to our body to carefully carry them to safety or to tend to a problem.  See the Mud Wrestling post for another adventure that involved hugging a goose.

Serenity, who is named that because she is usually a very calm and relaxed bird, was having nothing of it. 

Jolie was NOT happy at this turn of the events, the goose was NOT where she had told it to go.  Her frustration was starting to wear on her. I called her to my side and told her to let the bird calm down.

Jolie laid down on her belly at my side with a loud sigh of disgust and waited for me to say “put her up” to release her from this frustrating turn of events.

Instead I said “what do you say Jo, do you think we need to call in back-up?”  

Jolie turned her head toward the sounds of Georgia removing coyotes from the area and then back at me.  “No, you know George is doing her job and she’s not good at herding even though she tries real hard.  I think Sean, what do you think?”

Jolie cocked her ears at me as if to say yes.  I then called my son, waking him from a sound sleep.  I apologized for waking him, then explained the situation.  He said he’d be right there.  I relayed this to Jolie, who sighed, glanced at the bird, and laid her head on her front paws to wait.

I did not call my husband because I knew his phone was on the charger in another room and he’d never hear it.  I could not leave the bird to go get him, besides if I knew Sean well we wouldn’t need a third human.

Sean joined us amazingly fast.  He has a very calming effect on animals and he soon had the bird where she was no longer flailing at the fence or trying to climb it.  The two ganders on the inside of the fence also calmed.  Once he had talked her into a calmed state I tried to herd her away from the corner she was in to go to the far side of the long run she’d have to go around to get to safety.  She immediately panicked again.

This is when I decided to leave the area, taking Jolie with me.  I left my son to talk with the bird some more.  Shortly there after he said “headed your way, keep Jolie calm.”

Jolie obeyed my voice commands to “help me, keep her from going to the woods” and as my son herded Serenity toward the open gate.  We took our post on the far side of the gate where the coyote had previously been to show the goose we were protecting her from that side.

He could get Serenity within a few feet of the gate, but every time she’d panic at the last minute and turn to run the opposite direction. We figure the coyote had probably marked the area and that was why she was so frantic.

Once again ds started speaking to the now exhausted goose, telling her to sit still and he’d hug her and put her in with Frodo and Piggie.  Almost immediately the large goose settled at his feet tucking her wings to her side in a “pick me up” pose.

Sean gently picked her up and carried her the six feet or so to the gate and through it.  He then said “there you go sweet heart, go to your family.” As he gently set her down on the ground.

You didn’t have to tell Serenity twice.  She ran straight toward her mate, intertwining her long neck with his while her father and five yearlings crowded around her checking her out for any damage. 

We latched the gate and praised the dogs for a job well done. Jolie responded by curling up near the gate to guard it the rest of the night, while Georgia went on patrol.

A check of the nest verified the eggs were gone, and Serenity had fled only after all was lost.  The nest was in an area Jolie was too big to get into, and that is why she had been barking for help.

We are sad we lost the eggs, but thrilled we still have Serenity.  Jan who managed to get back to bed about 12:45 am in OK

 

MUD WRESTLING FOR MY 40TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

March 21, 2013

This is a copy of an email I posted on a few groups I'm on March 17, 2013.  It has received so many laughs I thought I'd share it with the rest of you.

For your Sunday entertainment.

Ahhh spring.  The Bradford pears are covered with white flowers, the wild flowers are peeking up through the dead grass and the bird migrations have begun.

 

It is also the season of our 40^th wedding anniversary.  Saturday, March 16, yesterday in fact.  You know when you are on the Dave Ramsey debt payoff plan when you celebrate such a milestone by cutting down dead trees and stacking firewood.  LOL!  Yep, that’s what we did for part of the day at least.  I threw in a little laundry, we sat in the shade and chatted some too, mid  70’s it was nice.  We decided months ago there would be no gifts for this anniversary, that instead we’d work hard on paying our debt off and putting money back for a big trip to celebrate later. 

 

Dh did insist on taking me out for a steak dinner, that we paid far too much for, but he says it will be 40 more years before we have another 40 (80) anniversary and he thought I at least deserved a steak dinner for putting up with him for so long.

 

So we put on our “go to town” clothes and went out to dinner, just the two of us.  The weather bottomed out while we were in the restaurant and I regretted my short sleeved blouse on the run back to the truck, but I enjoyed the meal immensely.  I can’t remember the last time I had steak, I know it was before DR. 

 

Dh also refused to do any errands on the way home, he said “another time, tonight we relax.” 

 

Somebody forgot to tell ds that.  He was waiting for us on the porch when we pulled up. “I need your guys help right away.”  Were the first words out of his mouth.  Not exactly what we wanted to hear.  It seems “Her”, a brown Chinese goose, had some how got into a torn up plastic feed sack and it was now tightly wrapped around one of her legs.  We aren’t sure where she got it, because we keep those put up just because of such situations.  Trash is highly dangerous to birds and wildlife.

 

He said he’d got Her and the other birds in the pen, but he couldn’t catch Her by himself to get the bag cut off her leg.  It needed to come off asap, because a bird can lose a leg/foot quickly due to lack of circulation.  I was wearing a long skirt so I rushed in to change out of it and to grab my Carhardt coat (it was already in the 40’s and the wind was really whipping).  Dh changed coats, but ignored my suggestion he take off his khaki slacks—a decision he later regretted.

 

Then armed with flashlights we three headed to the garden/goose pen, aka: the bog.  You see dh and ds put the water tubs in one of the raised beds and as a result of daily watering the raised bed was now a pond and the middle of this pond stood the diminutive Her. Yes that’s really her name, she just showed up her one day and for a couple of weeks some one would say “who is that goose?’ one of us would respond “which goose” and the first person would point to the little bird and say “Her”, she showed up with “Him”, who we called Who for awhile as in “Who is that?”   Him is also called Zorro, due to his mask, sometimes around here, but I digress. 

 

The bag around Her’s leg was a pretty sizeable piece of one and the other geese kept stepping on the dragging debris causing Her to fall often on her dainty bill.  I was worried her leg would get broken before we got the bag off of it. 

 

None of us had our muck boots on—stupidity I know, but as any homesteader will tell you, when it’s cold, windy, stone cold dark and you have an injured critter you don’t always stop to think about things like muck boots.

 

Her was determined to stay in the muddy “Pond” and the ganders who have decided she’s their girl, remember it’s spring and the only time of year my geese would EVER consider challenging any of us, especially me.  They weren’t too happy at these three humans wanting to “hug” their girl.  Hug is our term for one of us grabbing a goose over their wings and hugging them up to our body to control them while someone else fixes a wound or other problem.  Dh’s light color pants were soon covered with what we’ll call mud—it’s a goose pen, think about it.

 

After about two laps I said “Enough! I’m going in after Her.” I at least had crocs and  old clothes on.   As I stepped into the almost dry shallow end of the “pond” to try and nab her as another goose, Greystoke, conveniently stood on the bag penning her.   All 18 birds took off the opposite direction. Splashing us all royally with the “mud.”  Ds got a huge mouthful of “mud”.  To say he was not amused would be understating it considerably. 

 

Luckily by then dh had got a herding stick, and between the three of us we were able to corner Her on semi dry land.  Ds, still spewing vile “mud”  out of his mouth caught her first with a diving body tackle, but could only pen Her, not pick Her up.  I came in from the other direction and immediately told Her “It’s Mama, I’m alpha, you pinch, you are dinner. “  Then I went past the hissing snapping bill and grabbed Her over the wings to hug her up next to my body in an upright position. 

 

I stood there with the hissing goose as dh fumbled for his pocket knife and ds climbed up off the soggy ground.  Not once did Her try to pinch me, she KNEW better, even if she was an outsider.  She did make a grab for ds once, but he spoke softly to her and stroked her neck as he shined the flashlight on her leg for dh.  She calmed as soon as he started talking to her.  He has that affect on animals.  I’ve seen him with a humming bird perched on his finger as he quietly talked to it and brought it out of the sunroom to freedom outside. 

 

As soon as Her got still dh deftly cut the bag free and examined her leg and foot for injury in case she needed first aid.  Luckily she did not, ds had found the problem early enough. 

 

I then had the guys clear the area so she would have plenty of room to stretch her wings if she felt the need after the “humans” had touched her.  Ds spoke to her softly as I set her down gently on the ground and she fled to the safety of her ganders. 

 

I gathered the bag pieces and we left the birds to discuss the evil humans and console Her for the night. (She was in fine shape this morning) .  Once the bag was properly disposed of it was every man/woman for themselves.  Ds spent considerable time brushing his teeth, gargling, and rinsing his mouth.  Then he and dh laundered their “mud” soaked clothes.  Amazingly enough, I only had the mud on my crocks and those I rinsed and disinfected quickly. 

 

Ahhhh, spring, mud wrestling in the dark.  Who could ask for a better anniversary.  Jan who says her life is NEVER dull in OK

A WINTER MORNING WAKE UP CALL

November 27,2011

As I rolled over in my warm bed trying to figure out what had wakened me I listened to the sounds outside my window. The cold late November air was pierced again with a sound I’ve became use to over the years.

“Aaaaaa” like rapid machine gun fire, something had the guinea fowl’s in an uproar, but it didn’t concern me. Anyone that has ever raised guinea fowl knows that all the guineas in the world share one brain cell and it is never your birds day to have it. Something as simple as a leaf blowing in the wind can set them in a tizzy.

As I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep the guineas continued sounding their alarm cry and soon Piper Peacock joined the chorus “Onk heee, Onk Hee” as the rooster crowed and the geese joined in honking their intruder alarm. The cacophony of startled bird cries was soon joined by Sir Oliver Inkwell sitting on the bedroom window sill meowing loudly.

Okay, so now the critters have my attention. Freeing myself from the bed covers I fumble for my eye glasses on the night stand and go to the window to see if I can see what is going on.

For several seconds I stood watching the birds to get a clue as to where the intruder was. The birds had the big cedar tree outside our bedroom window encircled. They definitely had something trapped under there, occasionally I could see rapid movement fleeing from one side to another under the skirts of the large tree’s ground touching branches.

Whatever it was it was fast, but moving as if possibly injured. Cat maybe? No I only saw two legs. Guinea after guinea would charge under the huge cedar at whatever it was and then dart back out as the quickly moving shadow would alternately run at the guineas and flee from them.

Piper Peacock paced nervously around the tree honking her dismay at the whole procedure. Piper doesn’t care for any changes in her world what so ever (well except for maybe wanting a male added to the flock). She honked and voiced her opinion loudly. The geese stood back watching the whole display cheering the guineas on honking their approval as each guinea charged under the tree. Repeat Rooster stood on the back porch railing crowing, but offering no real help as tiny Turk the Turken hid under the back deck.

I continued to watch as I reached for the clothing I had laid out the night before. Just then the shadow charged after another guinea foray and stepped out of the shadows of the tree.

A small young brown hawk ran limping from the tree to over by the house. The guineas soon cornered it near the compressor as it flapped its wings and charged back at them.

He was fully puffed out his speckled feathers standing on end and looking quite stressed. He made an effort to fly away from his tormentors, but hit the fence of the garden and landed in the flock of geese that had been watching the whole spectacle. The geese separated and looked at the small bird like “yeah right, You’re a chicken hawk, but we’re not chickens.” They didn’t even bother to run off because the bird was so small and obviously injured.

I turned and told Gary what was going on. He was quickly dressed and out the door. To see what needed to be done. While hawks aren’t welcome around here, we don’t want any animal suffering. The guineas were determined they were going to pay this young hawk back for every keet other hawks had ever carried off.

I kept an eye on the hawk from the window until I saw Gary going toward it. Then headed out to help him.

When I arrived in the side yard Gary was watching the sky. He said that the hawk had recovered from bouncing off the garden fence and in a panic when it saw him had gathered enough strength it had swooped skyward and flew off over the trees to the west of the house.

He said the flight was labored and it seemed to be dangling one foot a bit, but it had gone far enough the guineas couldn’t get to it and it had landed in a tree that he was pointing at. The tree was several acres away from our location, so we did not try to follow.

Of course the guineas strutted around for several minutes after that telling the world how they had beaten the mean old hawk, as the much wiser geese just looked at them indulgently.

Little Turk, who is the smallest of our free ranging birds finally came out from under the porch and snuggled up with Repeat as if to say “My hero.” Apparently the inexperienced young hawk had tried to get her not realizing he would not fit through the lattice of the porch like she would and had crashed into it injuring himself.

We surmised this by the hawk feathers near where Turk had been hiding. Earlier this week Turk had been running around with two chicks, they of course had disappeared. We figured this hawk is probably how they disappeared and he came back thinking he was a good enough hunter to get Momma bird too. Boy was he wrong.

I doubt that particular hawk will ever be back as long as the guinea crew is on duty.

Jan who is up for the day and ready to decorate for Christmas in OK

THIS YEAR’S TRIO OF GOSLINGS

A few years ago we were incubating and hatching hundreds of goose eggs. We’ve closed that business and since then have been letting the geese hatch and raise their own goslings, letting nature take its course as they free range. Unfortunately the last two years they’ve hatched out several , but none have made it to adulthood.


This year only four were hatched due to the strange weather we had and snake problems, not to mention a tree falling on one of our beautiful Sebastopols instantly killing her and the large clutch of eggs she was sitting on.

While we were gone Sean managed to get two of the family groups penned separately. He decided to protect the goslings instead of letting their parents raise them on the loose. He penned their entire family with them to help create bonding  with the gaggle. The third group he didn’t get penned in time and we lost the gosling almost immediately.

This weekend we released the other three with their parents to explore the world. The three are nearly adult size now and have gotten their names. Hopefully they will be the subject of many stories to come. They are already older than any of the “free range” babies were when we lost them. They are fully feathered, and nearly grown.

Because the birds free range they practice free will. So who hatches and raises the gosling is not always necessarily the biological parent, as you will see from the descriptions below.

The first family group is Fairy(White Chinese/Sebastopol mix), Freckles, Spot, Pebbles and Popcorn (all of which are White Tufted Roman/Brown Chinese mix). You met them in the Elf story that is one of the first blogs I wrote.

Their baby looks to be a White Chinese/Brown Chinese mix. We are pretty certain he’s a gander but we could be wrong. This little darling is a little brat. It is bossy, noisy and a bit of a bully. He is always stirring up a storm of trouble. He is white with varying shades of gray and black splotches on him. The ones on his wing shoulders look much like storm clouds. His personality and markings have earned him the name Partly Cloudy or PC.

The second family is Magellan—you’ve heard lots about him over the years, he is a large white Embden gander, and Mama Sarah a Brown Chinese goose. They are raising two darling babies.

When I asked Mama Sarah what we should call her little gander she answered “Alllllllllfred!” So that’s what we named this grey and white baby. He's a good gosling and never gives us any trouble, unlike PC.

The third is our “special” child. That’s Miss Pugsley. As you can see from her photo at the left Miss Pugsley has a birth defect. . Her eyes are different from most goose eyes and her body shape is slightly different as well. She is a gentle loving soul, who just wants to be friends with everyone. She doesn’t run from us like the other two goslings do and trusts us to make sure she’s properly fed. She looks to be a Toulouse/Sebastopol cross . Pugsie’s name of course comes from her pug nose/bill. We think she’s cute.

Unfortunately geese are like most wild animals and tend to shun those who are different. PC in particular is always yammering at Pugsie and being ugly to her. Magellan and Mama Sarah are good parents and have been keeping all bullies away from her. I’m afraid it will take Magellan establishing Alpha with the Knot Heads (five Tufted Romans) before they will accept little Pugsie into the main flock. The Knot heads are snobs and we’ve had trouble with them before. They would not accept Hairlip Harry (the gosling with the broken bill) last year and we lost Harry as a result. Harry didn’t have a dominate male to protect him. Pugsie does, Magellan is VERY protective of her. Magellan and his brother Frodo are the biggest and oldest of the birds we have. If Fro will stand by his brother there won’t be a problem. Some of the other ganders have already started siding with Gel-Gel so hopefully it will work out.

I know little Pugsie has already won all our hearts. But then Sean has always called this place Rock ‘n Tree Ranch, home of the misfit birds. We’ve had birds in the past live to old age that ranged from Kreb, a runner duck with a badly formed spine to Blind Annie, a completely blind Pekin duck who had a seeing eye banty chicken hen. Then of course there have been the tongueless guinea hen, and Sloth, a one toed guinea hen who is still to this day hopping around the ranch on her single enormous one toe on one of her feet.

We’ll make sure that Pugsie always has food she can get in her deformed bill okay and plenty of water to drink. We’ve been observing and have noticed Magellan and Sarah are teaching her how to preen, and pull grass despite only having half a bill. She does a pretty good job of it too.

Pugsley may turn out to be a real beauty in the long run. Her adult feathers are starting to come in and have a curl on the end. If they should curl and go long like a true Sebastopol’s does that might shut Fairy’s crew up real fast. After all, that would mean she’s from their family geneticly.

So that's our newest family members, we've lost a few of the birds this year, so these babies are extra special to us.

Jan who hopes to write hundreds of stories about Pugsley and the other new additions in OK

A PEACEABLE KINGDOM?

As some of you already know my ds got laid off yesterday due to budget cutbacks. We were all pretty blue yesterday, but in our world you don’t have time to throw pity parties for long. So last night ds filed for unemployment then went to bed at his normal work day time.




He has been a very busy fellow today. He went back by the office and picked up his stuff he forgot to get after receiving the stunning news, then on to run some minor errands. Once home he gathered up big logs he and dh had cut up before we left town—since there is suppose to be a cold front coming through this weekend he thought he might want to be warm. LOL!



He spent the rest of the afternoon splitting firewood. He called during one of his breaks with the following happeninga on the ranch.



He had gone in for a drink of water and left the front door open to allow the cats to come and go as they wished, this is something new for the cats. They’ve always been totally house kitties, but the kitties have been fighting a lot so we decided to see how letting them get some fresh air would work. He said he might have been napping a bit when all the sudden he felt movement on the love seat next to him. Opening his eyes he looked right into the brown eyes of Misty Georgia, our middle child dog. Now to some of you this might not seem strange, but in the 7 years Georgie has been a family member she has never been in the main house. She shares the sunroom with her two sibling Jolie Marie and Drifter Moon. She politely laid her head down in Sean’s lap and sighed as if she’d been waiting to do this for a long time.



Since Georgie is our dog that absolutely loves to roll in anything stinky Sean decided that it might be best if the two of them moved to the porch. So he coaxed her outside with him and they sat in a sunbeam enjoying a light breeze. After a bit he heard whining where Georgia had been. Only it didn’t sound like Georgie. Opening his eyes again he looked around to see Drifter Moon, the big black mutt that is the youngest of the three dogs, looking VERY DISTRESSED. Sean said so much white of Moonie’s eyes was showing you could barely see the brown of the iris. He said Drifter would whine and then cut his eyes to the side and then whine again.



Looking around to see what the problem was Sean said he had to burst out laughing. Amy Jo, our fat grey and white tabby cat was giving Drifter Kitty Hugs, rubbing her head against him and purring to beat the band. Since this was Drifter’s first contact ever with Amy he was freaking out. Amy apparently thought Drifter was her new best friend. Drifter on the other paw wasn’t sure what was happening. Remember Drifter is not our brightest animal on the farm, so any change in his world is distressing to him.



A short while later Sean had Murray, his Tuxedo cat following him around as he pumped water out of the pool we now collect rainwater in. He watched as the big black and white cat moved confidently through the large flock of milling birds. For the most part the birds ignored him. Three guineas charged at him, but Murcat stood his ground and the goofy birds grew tired of the game quickly. He moved all around sniffing everything—this outdoor stuff was great! That was until, he got to close to Melanie, a dainty brown Chinese goose. Sean said Mel-Mel didn’t hiss or anything, but her mate-Magellan, a big white Embden gander, did. Gel-gel grabbed Murcat’s handsome tail and yanked it as only a goose can.



Sean said Murray went 16 directions at once! He went looking for him since the cat hit the ground running after such a rude maneuver on the goose’s part. Sean finally found him in the house frantically clawing at their bedroom door trying to get in with the kitten—who is not being let out until she’s spayed (MY ORDERS).



So it sounds like life is going back to normal at the Rock ‘n Tree Ranch.



Jan who says aren’t spring days and farm animals enough to bring a smile to your face?