Eggs, Chickens and Old Age!

BC

Busy days at the ranch. We are done with the first round of lambing and are now just waiting on a BIG bonus round in May. The Shelly ran up from the barn this morning to tell me that we had a visiting kitty in the llama/goat pen last night. Apparently it just passed through as no one is harmed or freaked out. The snow has been falling and temperatures dropping and eggs sales have been picking up so much so that I haven't had a any in a few days. Somethings wrong when all of your eggs are sold before you get out of bed for breakfast. This morning I either got lucky or someone wasn't paying attention. I opened up the fridge to find four eggs sitting without a crate in the diary bin. I got my pan ready, bread in the toaster. I banged the first egg on the counter top to crack the shell and.....found that it had been hard boiled along with the other three. So it turns out that I was the one not paying attention. I decided on egg salad instead of fried, I didn't really have a choice. Turns out it was a good thing, it made me remember the days of chemo and all the wonderful conversations Mama Nell and I had over a couple of sandwiches. After nearly having my fingers removed by Hound Dog as she lurched for the crust, I went downstairs and checked on the little critters. BC (Blind Chicken) had been moved into the house several months ago. BC is a wonderfully feathered Americuna chicken. She was left here at the ranch after the Nash fire a couple of summers ago. The Boss Lady took her to Phoenix ranch for a week or so and then returned her after we realized she was blind. She lived in with the layer chickens until she got herself stuck between two fences. When she was stuck the other chickens pecked a hole in her throat and when I found her I was sure she was a goner. I hauled her up to the house and let her live in a dog crate for a few days, I really thought that was all she had left. Chickens are amazing things, as I have come to found out. She healed up and was back to her chicken self again in no time. We put her back in the coop thinking things would be just fine. The other hens really believe in that "Survival of the fittest" thing. They took to pecking at her again. So we moved poor old BC up to the duck pen behind the house. She lived with the ducks with no problems. She got use to her surroundings and started laying eggs again. Several months ago when I went out to feed the ducks and BC, I found that she had roosted on the side of the stock tank that the ducks swim in. It happened to be very cold and she had become frozen to the lip on the tank. I used the blow dryer to thaw her off the tank. (I'm nuts and I know it, who else uses a blow dryer to thaw out their blind chicken?) I scooped her up and took her inside. Since we have every other animal living inside, I couldn't find a problem with one chicken. So, now she lives in the rabbit room in a stock tank. She has free eats, heat, water and love! She gives me a big green egg every day and sings to me when I go to collect it. She's reliable hen in her golden years, she's about 7 years old. I love BC and couldn't imagine putting her into a pot for Sunday soup. Yet....as I'm selling eggs to a customer the other day, the customer told me that she would buy BC and take her off my hands. I asked what she wanted BC for as she lives in town and can't have chickens. She told me that she would buy BC and any older hens for stew. OH! I politely declined, explained that I don't butcher my layers. Why would I butcher BC anyway? She gives me a HUGE egg, everyday. She's old but so am I. I do butcher chickens, that I raise from chicks. They live about 10 weeks here on the ranch. They are bred to be butchered. For the most part letting them live for 6 months is a really BAD thing to do. They have little hearts, big bodies and little feet. After 4 months they can't stand up. The don't fully feather and would freeze to death in our cold climate. They don't live long enough to lay eggs. I think keeping some breeds of butcher chickens too long is just mean. However, keeping BC right now is not mean. She is happy and healthy and giving. I understand ranch life. I hope that we are being HUMANE ranchers. As for BC....She will continue to live in the rabbit room until the green grass grows and then she will be back in the duck pen until the snow flies.

BC's Egg on the left.

And still....more babies

We had a lull in the lambing. Only a couple of days but still it was nice. This morning I was set on sleeping in and letting Shelly handle the chores. I had big plans to run to the post office and then to make some Queso Blanco from all the milk I have. Instead Shelly came racing back to the house to tell me that we have two new babies and one wasn't nursing. I reluctantly went to the barn to find a ewe with NO MILK. One lamb had tried to draw it out but just ended up a bit bloated and the other wasn't moving. I hauled them to the house, shoved some colostrum down their gullet and 10 minutes later I had two screaming lambs in the house. I'm now wishing they would just take a nap like a normal baby. UGH! I hate bottle feeding. We've given the ewe a shot of oxytocin in hopes her milk will let down, I only hope she will take the lambs back if she gets some milk.

Babies, Babies, everywhere!

About five months ago Shelly and the Boss Lady ventured to Ft. Collins to purchase about 10 more head of sheep to work the dogs on. The Boss Lady was so overcome with glee that by the next week we had 111 new sheep and a brand spanking new stock trailer. After three trips to the sale barn in Ft. Collins we finally got everyone tucked into pastures. Nine of the new sheep turned out to be rams. Over the course of four days all nine rams had come in contact with every single one of the ewes. So here we are, 151 days after the rocket launch! Friday while checking on ewes the hired hand came back to the house and announced the arrival of the first lamb of the season. Shelly and I went out to pluck it and mama ewe out of the pasture and put them in the nursery in the barn only to find two little wooly critters. We pulled ten other girls up to the barn as they looked like they had coming appointments with the stork as well. On Saturday morning I was up early getting ready to go to the kiddo's basketball game. I jetted down to the barn to check on the girls and found five new babies stumbling around. Sunday morning brought a singleton girl. All total we've got 8 little fuzz balls running around the nursery. Shelly finished the goat condo just in time, we've plenty of room in the barn for babies.

New Condo for the Girls....and MeMoo too.

Checking out the new condo.

Shelly had been working hard to complete a new house for the little Nigerians. The project was sidelined about a month or more ago, bigger and better things needed to be done. She's had some extra time this past week and was able to finish the goat condo. I was very excited when I walked down to the barn and got my group of girls and MeMoo too. MeMoo is a black and white wether who lives with the tribe of women. He fits in fine. Shelly finished just in time for a bit of snow. The girls seem happy with their new home, the heat lamps are an added pleasure.

Cinderella loves the easy access to the spool.

Catching up....Still, forever..Always

I've been terrible at trying to keep with things lately. The ranch is in forward gear and I'm struggling to keep myself from slipping into reverse. Oh well, such is life. A lot has been zipping. We had a wonderful holiday season. Shelly's family from Florida, sister and nephews joined us for the festivities. We were able to spend an afternoon tubing at Keystone. Tubing brings back many memories of my childhood. Near my hometown of Salida CO, is an old mountain pass that has the best tubing hill in the northern hemisphere. As a child I spent many, many Saturdays there with my cousins, aunts, uncles and friends. My Grandfather had a knack for finding huge inner-tubes. We'd pack nonsense food and Gramma's cookies and pile in Uncle Aubrey's El Camino or the old blue "Hippie Van" and head out. I've never been so cold and so happy at the same time. My memories of the good times were wrecked by tragic "now" times. Sometime after Christmas my young cousin, Josh was hospitalized with liver and kidney failure. He hung on for awhile but peacefully passed away on January 7th with family by his side. Just a short 10 days later my beloved Uncle Dennis passed away as well. It was fortunate that I was able to have a happy phone chat with Uncle Dennis a few days before his passing. For awhile now it seems the boatman has been collecting my family members in pairs. I've no idea the reason, nor will I ever. It seems that is just something I'm not to know in this life. I've no choice now but to remember the good times, the bad times, the ALL times.

Delightful by the Fire

Anyone that knows me gets annoyed with my pleading to just skip the holiday season. I always thought Christmas was supposed to bring out the best in people, I've yet to see that happen. I just want to skip it. That's not my point today, not that I really have a point. I guess it is that I like fire. Not like a pyromaniac likes fire but like an old woman who lives on the mountain and hates the cold weather likes fire. Last night I was able to get a good fire going, so good that I ran most everyone off from the living room to cooler parts of the cabin. Bertha dog likes a good fire too. Either that or she was so hot that she couldn't move. She' s been mad at me the last two days. Hamlet our male Dane, got a little rough with the play last week and gave B dog a big ole bite on her shoulder. I didn't see it happen but I can only imagine the schooling she gave Hamlet. The bite is just right for a good scratching and Bertha was doing just that. So much that she was making it bloody each night and spraying it all over the dog room from her crate. The solution was to put a T-shirt on her so she couldn't scratch it. I don't know if its the color of the shirt or just that it's a shirt that has made her grouchy with me. She usually hangs around me in the evenings when we bring the dogs in from the outside yards. The last two evenings she's given me "the look" and gone to bed early. I tried coaxing her with cheese and cookies last night but she just look down her nose at me. Instead of going downstairs to her bed she flopped in front of the fire and snored. Pepsi cat seems to enjoy the warmth of the room as well, he almost melted off the back of the couch. A good fires is just one of those little pleasures that I don't take the time to notice most days. So Delightful!

New Developments

I was in town the other day buy dog food and cat food and rabbit food and ferret food and chicken food too, when the lady at the checkout called me a PETA freak. I didn't respond, although I wanted to. Maybe Shelly was holding me back. First let me explain...I'm not a PETA person at all. I wish people who threw the term PETA around as well as FREAK actually knew the meaning of both. I am nothing like Ingrid Newkirk. I have not left my body upon my death to PETA nor do I wish that Shelly, should she survive me have a barbecue with my flesh and feed it to my furry family. Ms. Newkirk does not believe that anyone should house animals as pets, that anyone should eat the flesh of another animal or use animal by product such as hide and hooves. I do not hold any of these same beliefs. I believe that animals should be humanely raised if they are to be eaten. Each year Shelly and I purchase two steers from the Jr. Livestock Sale at the Chaffee County Fair. Fair steers are very humanely raised. They are brushed and loved and fed some nice sweet feed. Granted they do not live into old age but they are not shoved into a feed lot to be fed bicarb and stand in mud for the majority of their life. They are not given hormones or anti-bodies either. I understand people who don't eat meat because of the environment the stock lives and dies in. I try to be better. I feed and kill my own chickens. Once in awhile we feed and slaughter a pig as well. I like leather shoes too but it is also safe to say I do not agree with a lot of food making practices across our Earth. I don't eat foie gras or veal. I do attend the circus and have a membership to our local zoo. I'm just not a PETA person, nor am I or any of those involved with PETA a freak. I do have lots and lots of animals. It amazes me the reactions I get from a lot of people. I've had some tell me that I NEED to get rid of some of them so that Shelly and I can get away or that people would be more likely to visit us if we didn't have so many dogs. My answer to that is, "Mind your own business." Shelly and are very happy with our furry family. I am not nor do I intend to give any of my animals away. They are my FAMILY. All of my animals are fed high quality food. As one friend says, "You spend a shit ton of money on dog food." They all have their own space in the house with a bed and a warm place to be. They get attention everyday. They have belongings, such as toys and blankets. We are happy being this way. Who said we wanted visitors anyway? Love me, Love my animals. But I ramble....The Shelly and I have acquired a new family member. Drago is a Presa Canario Mastiff. He is about 9 years old and slobbers all over. He has been living with the Boss lady for the past 9 years but Shelly and I decided to bring him home. He lost his partner Flame a couple of years ago and hasn't been the same since. He would sit in his run or in his yard each day with little signs of emotion. He was depressed. We noticed that each time we would bring Izadora to the kennel he would become animated again. So now he is here to live with Izzy for the rest of his life. When I first told Jolene of the new addition I left out the fact it was Drago. Instead I said, "We got a new dog." Jolene only responded with, "Mom, we don't need another dog." When I revealed who it was all was OK. Drago and Jolene have a unique relationship. My pets, my family bring me joy and pain just like those of the ALL HUMAN variety. Welcome home Drago.Izzy and Drago in their yard

Drago hangin out.