e naying of the goats, the quacking of the ducks, the crowing of the roosters made me panicky and I'd rush through it all. Of course in the beginning we had baby goats, bottle fed goats and their pleas would drive me to distraction. Now they all can scream and I'm OK with it. Those bottle fed goats are big burly guys who want to play rough with me. I now also carry a broom handle or pinata bat when I go out to the field with them. (For those of you who read that last sentence and are wondering, remember I live in West Texas and pinata bats are real things. No they aren't mammalian, but simply a carved and colorfully painted bat used to break pinatas or bean goats who want to jump on you.)Buddy and Pal are now adult male goats. Their mama's owner needed goats milk for her show lambs and I ignorantly and I must admit stupidly volunteered to take ONE baby goat and bottle feed it. Of course when the blessed event happened there were two goats and the other taker backed out. So I figured (again ignorantly and stupidly) two goats would be as easy as one. I'm going to be up anyway feeding one. What I didn't know was that Buddy would be easy as pie and Pal had a weak constitution and everything but goat's milk would go straight through him. I won't even divulge the amount of money spent keeping him alive. But he's a lover and well worth the expense. I had NO idea how expensive animal rearing or garden keeping was back in the beginning. I now have a clue.
This morning I did my rounds and then talked to my ducks "Beaker and Squeaker". They let me know they were ready for fresh water in their pool. So I obliged my two Blue Swedish ducks and filled their pool. I sat on one of our heavy aluminum chairs as they discovered just what I was up to. First they sipped the water in the pool. Next they dunked their heads as if to see what was in the bottom. (Like it's changed since the first time I ever filled their pool.) Beaker is the alpha male of the two. He made his inspection and then climbed the cinder block to get into the pool. He swam a couple of laps and then watched as Squeaker dunked his head in the wat
erfall flowing from the pool. They love to do some sort of sand filtering routine when I fill their pools. It's weird, but knowing that chickens have crops full of grit in order to digest their hard cracked corn, I figure ducks must need sand. After a little sifting Squeaker made his way into the pool. He too did a few laps and then the preening routine began. They dunk under the water with a sort of wave motion. Then they swim laps really fast. They alternately dunk under and swim laps as fast as they can. This rounding motion causes a whirlpool and water goes everywhere. When through they do a tandem sort of bugling and squeak noise, throwing their heads back and then they quack, quack, quack. I know they are happy, but what they are saying only duck whispers know. The watery mess quickly spread onto the ground and approached where I was sitting some three feet away. It was time to turn the water off and return to my other duties. It's fun to watch their ritual, but life does go on and it was time to dodge the happy ducks.I also love my chickens. I did what my sister lovingly refers to as the "Elmira mommy" thing with two hens this morning. I grabbed for one (I think it was Bingo; an Auracauna) to cuddle her. She was so freaked out she ran circles around the chicken house. There were only two hens in the house and I had shut the door so she had nowhere to go. She's on the end of her molting stage so she isn't flying too well these days. I eventually caught her and she flailed while I calmed her. I don't consider myself a chicken whisperer, but that didn't stop me from whis
pering in her ear, "It's OK baby". I cuddled and talked to her for a while and then eyed "Chicklet" on the shower curtain rod. We have shower curtains to divide the chicken area from the water well pump area. The chickens have claimed the rod as a roosting post. She has been "Elmira Mommied" many times before so she knew what was coming. I still had to grab her legs to get her and prevent her from flying into a wall and hurting herself. She screamed bloody murder, but it did her no good. I held her anyway. After I got my "chicken fix" I went in and here I am. I just love the peaceful nature of living in the country. Actually I only live ten miles from town in a smaller town, but it feels wayyyyy more country-esk than anywhere I lived in California.I'd like to think of our life here as "Green Acres 101". I don't know much about farming, but what I do know I put to use. I actually have 42 pets that we feed. We've actually eaten two of our hens and umpteen eggs from our chickens. We plan on butchering "Lunch" and "Dinner" this month. It isn't easy to butcher animals you've loved and fed, but it's a sin to me to not eat what you've butchered so I'm forcing myself to get past it all.
I don't get to be farmer gal nearly as often as I'd like. Hubby is forced to take up my slack when I'm too busy with the financial end of living or some other endeavor. We're a team and we tag team whenever we must. That's what I like about being married to my best friend. When I'm too busy he dodges the ducks for me. I'll have to post the video of them trying to get him. It's a hilarious game they play with him. Love me some ducks. Next year we hope to find a couple she ducks for our boys. They are desperate for duck women. If anyone knows of a good duck dating service, please let me know. I am not opposed to mail order duck brides.
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