Well I thought we were doing well--I was inside tonight and sitting down by 8:30 (everyone still needs to be locked up later) but just as I started to write I heard Lorpie and her indignant voice calling from her run--she wanted to come inside for the night.
This time of year is challenging-not only does the sun burn and overheat the beasts-but the parasites thrive. After spending one summer here we have an idea of what to watch for. But that said, this is a much wetter summer, as last year we were in drought by this time.
Our kind neighbour who did the haying for us just lost one of his Highland calves to flystrike. It's a good reminder that I need to make sure I have hands on all the sheep much more often than I do. I can handle Lace from stem to stern, and check out most of Starburst if she's in the right frame of mind, and Mama Ewe is pretty good as well, just a little more skittish. The other three however need to be caught and restrained for exams, and since the vet encouraged me to have hands on at least once a month to check body condition and eyelid colour, I'd better devise a way to do it that's easy and low stress, or it won't get done! I removed a tick from Starburst tonight, and I was able to get my fingers down into the fleece to check for any hotspots, and turn it into a nice positive scratching/massage session for her and Lace. Checking the tail and under the tail is a little bit more of an issue, but they did fine. Not sure if it's the great shearing job they had or whether Shetlands naturally aren't super fleeced around their nethers, but it will likely help them stay flystrike free in that area, unless one of them gets scoury.
From my 1902 book my grandfather gave me "Magner's Farm and Stock Book":
After finding the mite and maggot infested barn swallows I was on a mission. Checked the empty mourning dove nest and found it and the gutter infested with mites as well. Removed the nest and dusted the gutter and surrounding parts of the porch in the hopes they wouldn't spread to the adjacent eastern phoebe nest. That pair had a tough time with their second clutch last year, who were also infested with mites when the heat of the summer was at it's worst.
The deerflies hound me, distress the sheep who stamp and run and shake their heads, and draw blood on the horses. They develop huge lumps on the bite sites, the size of marbles, and make funny snaggle toothed faces when I scratch one for them. I rubbed some cortisone cream on Oak's worst lumps last night-I hope it helped. It's so crucial for Oak to try to avoid all allergic response, as that's a huge part of his COPD. So anything that jacks his eosinophils I believe can affect his lungs as well (not to mention just make him feel rotten!)
Today as I was carrying a huge pile of mulch G had just scythed a deerfly was biting my back right through my shirt-luckily G was there to smack my back to put me out of my distress. It hurts!!! I got to smack him in the head a few times today ; ) All for love, of course.
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Since there have been a few articles in the news lately about the 'backyard chicken craze/fad' I've been thinking about what type of people get chickens for the 'romance' of it--fresh, cruelty free eggs, and some entertaining pets as a bonus. The problem is that so many of these people are not animal people, or bird people, and give up at the slightest flush of trouble. Many urban chickens are dumped and forced to fend for themselves, or just never receive the care they need and deserve. I don't like to discourage people, but you can't be a starter and not a finisher. Like the folks who want a sweet little puppy then lock it in a room or crate for 18 hours a day and never socialize it or exercise it...wouldn't it be nice if our society didn't need an SPCA?
As an example-here I was on a Friday night--dusting the majority of the chooks for lice while they stood torpored on their perches. How many people would do that? Urban folks as a whole (who aren't biologists or vet types or gardening types perhaps) just can't seem to deal with the site of an earthworm or an ant without freaking out, so perhaps it's important to do a little self reflection first...
So there I was last night, shoving poultry dust up their rears while they stood in my headlamp light. It's the most efficient way to do it, at night, with the least stress on them. The chooks who don't mind being handled were done while it was still light out. It's pretty easy--they come to me as soon as I sit down in their enclosure. Pepper and Venga have always been bonded with us--and for some reason still are fascinated--if we sit down they come over, vocalizing, and then commence pecking and scratching at my pants, socks, whatever.
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| CHICKEN. BUTT. MY LITTLE SHADOWS VENGA AND PEPPER. |
So even after I grab one of them, do a quick check, check feet and body condition, dust their rears and kiss them on the head, a minute after I let them go and they sprint away in indignation, they come right back and do it again. They stare at my face, and just like to come and stand nearby for evening preening. Miss Buff joined in as well. She's such a sweet hen!
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The day after I got home I had to break up a drake fight, caught and held Bossy while looking in his intelligent little eyes, trying to tell him why he shouldn't be such a jerk to his brother. Not sure why he calms down when I catch him--I did help him hatch after all. Maybe there was some imprinting of some sort.
I added shavings to any houses that needed them, to help dry anything up that the flies would be attracted to. I can't give them any foothold. I can't get behind. They can't get ahead!
I had to remove the broody duck who'd taken up residence in the guinea aviary--sitting on 7 eggs. I didn't want duck poop in the guinea house, and didn't want it to attract flies to the garage. She fought me and then commenced to send a stream of feces onto me and then as I dropped her, all over the ground. I had already dressed to go out and do errands, and now had jeans covered in wreaking duck crap, so stood hosing the grass to remove the putrid mess (again to avoid attracting any flies) while wondering what the hell I was thinking--you NEVER handle beasts after dressing to go out.
So romantic, this bird keeping, n'est-ce pas? ; )
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I mentioned a few days ago that I was making a few mistakes after being away for a while...While I was gone G finished the new Lorpie crew coop. I did evening lockup for everyone while G made dinner. At around 3am I suddenly woke up and realized I hadn't locked their nest box, then imagined a raccoon or opossum climbing the maple and getting to the coop via one of the large branches. So I couldn't let it go...Got all dressed in mosquito proof clothing and went outside to lock up. On the way back inside a huge yellow and brown patterned moth flew into the basement after me. After lamenting our 'farming bycatch' recently I wasn't about to let one more thing die if I could help it. It flew into a box of old books and papers, so there I was at 3am emptying a box by flashlight, searching for this moth. I was so tired I almost went back to bed with my hat on. Thankful that my subconscious checks in every once and a while when I forget something.
The other night I dreamed the sheep escaped, and I was trying to prevent Axle from reaching the road. Last night I dreamed that Pepper and Venga were on the top of a cell phone tower, and they managed to fly down without killing themselves. The guineas were also in that dream--they'd gone AWOL and were harassing people at the university. No wonder I wake up so unrested some mornings!!
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An unfortunate frog murder last night:
Pearl found it first, and delivered the killing blow. Buff snatched it from her and commenced running while it dangled from her beak, and the chase was on. The ducks looked on and hissed, heads bobbing, they approve of such carnage, being murderous ducks and all.
Granny Rose grabbed it, and managed to swallow it whole and the situation was diffused, while Venga, half oblivious to it all continued to pluck tiny flowers from the volunteer dill. I wonder if her eggs will taste like dill??
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The chicks are growing quickly, and go on foraging expeditions without their mom, who can't fit through the electronetting like they can...She gets pretty distressed when they range too far. She also seems to have forgotten me since I was gone for a while. She acts aggressive, trys to bite and kick. She's always been a biter. But she's doing a great job as a mom for 14 chicks. Just a little challenging for me to socialize them while facing the threat of angry mother hen...
So in true redneck form the other afternoon in the stifling heat, I tried to fend her off with my beer bottle. It worked I guess, since I was able to deflect her attack successfully while filling the feeder and avoiding getting my shins perforated. It's amazing how many times I laugh through these bizarre events, like seeing myself in a movie, and potentially through someone else's eyes, or a camera lens. My life would seem strange on many occasions to others...if I cared what others thought I suppose. Life appears to me as scenes, like in a movie. It's a good thing I find myself entertaining since I'm alone so much I guess!
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And to prove one more time that I got a bit rusty while I was away, I'm nursing a minor bird-induced injury. My back injury flared up a bit while on vacation, so I was not in peak form when I made a poorly timed attempt to grab one of the guinea roosters 'Trouble'who was chasing and biting 'Chaos', another guinea roo. I had him backed into the corner and as I lost my grip he was already turning towards me, and the ideal escape route for him was straight up my face and over my head. One of his claws ripped my lower lip open a bit, and I ould instantly feel the blood flowing. Stupid move on my part! It's all or nothing with guineas.
Hopefully this week will go more smoothly. ; )
hope so too!!
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