Millie!

Welcome Millie, a 2-year old Pyr from a shelter in Oregon. With her is Ilene, who was generous enough to drive to Oregon to pick Millie up, and meet me for the handoff in southern Washington. As you can see from the sunshine, this was one of the last summer days of the year.

Millie was spayed and had her dewclaws removed (!), then placed into a new family. She didn't work out there and went straight back to the shelter. We are both glad that my needs and hers coincided, and she now resides with me.

Rescue dogs are a reminder of how uneducated people are about dogs. No one taught Millie to walk on a leash, not jump up, and not mouth. She still has all her puppy behaviors - which should have been corrected when she was 3 months old. Now, at 80 lbs, it's much more difficult to teach her not to pull on a leash, and much more inconvenient when she jumps up!

Besides learning basic manners, Millie is living next to geese, turkeys and chickens, so she can learn their behaviors and hopefully figure out that these are her critters to care for. She can watch Charlie do his patrols, and the way he interacts with the animals. She can see the sheep, and get used to them. Once she's comfortable with the leash we'll walk amongst the chickens, sheep and goats, and click for good behavior.

We have a lot of work in front of us, but she's a smart, sweet girl and I'm sure it will all be worthwhile. For both of us.

The Fish Saga

Two weeks after I released two dozen small goldfish into my pond, I noticed white spots of Ick (a fish parasite) on several of them. My fish expert friends assured me there was nothing I could do for them in a "wild" pond. Some ponds just aren't meant for fish.

I was so depressed by this news I didn't visit the pond and fish for a week. I didn't want to watch my fish dying. On Monday I steeled myself and followed Charlie to the pond.

Where I immediately saw a cluster of bright red-gold amid the cattails.

At least 10 fish survive, all plump, all noticeably larger than when released. None of them have Ick. They are healthily wary, keeping to the safety of the plants, keeping a distance between critters on the shore and themselves. They sink when birds fly overhead.

Perhaps my pond is a good place for fish. Now to get some waterlilies...

Peafowl Puzzle

Monday night a half-grown peahen committed suicide by flying head-first into a window. She must have been frightened by an owl, raccoon, or other predator - she'd been sleeping outside the Charlie-protected perimeter in a tall fir. My neighbors found and buried her Tuesday morning. Her mother was pacing in front of the house crying. This is very sad, we were looking forward to having another hen.

Tuesday afternoon they saw a hen and half-grown chick walking through the tall grass.

We only have 2 hens. One has one half-grown hen chick, the other has 3 younger chicks.

I saw Mom and Chick this morning. I saw them tonight, in their usual nesting place, along with her daughter who has 3 chicks. Another hen must have moved in with her baby. I didn't see her tonight, I hope she's still here.

I haven't seen or heard any peafowl except my own all summer. Where could she have come from, with a young chick? Puzzling Peacocks.

Alex in the NY Times

Even up through last week, Alex was working with Dr. Pepperberg on compound words and hard-to-pronounce words. As she put him into his cage for the night last Thursday, she recalled, Alex looked at her and said: "You be good, see you tomorrow. I love you."

He was found dead in his cage the next morning, Dr. Pepperberg said.

[NYTimes story]

In Memory of Alex

Alex the African Grey died September 6 at the age of 31.

Quoting from the Alex Foundation website: "Dr. Pepperberg’s pioneering research resulted in Alex learning elements of English speech to identify 50 different objects, 7 colors, 5 shapes, quantities up to and including 6 and a zero-like concept. He used phrases such as “I want X” and “Wanna go Y”, where X and Y were appropriate object and location labels. He acquired concepts of categories, bigger and smaller, same-different, and absence. Alex combined his labels to identify, request, refuse, and categorize more than 100 different items demonstrating a level and scope of cognitive abilities never expected in an avian species. Pepperberg says that Alex showed the emotional equivalent of a 2 year-old child and intellectual equivalent of a 5 year-old. Her research with Alex shattered the generally held notion that parrots are only capable of mindless vocal mimicry."

Alex was also learning to read.

For parrot enthusiasts, Alex was rather a hero - the symbol of parrot intelligence that we all understand but that the scientific community scoffs at. Dr. Pepperberg has continued her work for 30 years in spite of lack of peer support and funding problems. She has two young Greys she's still working with, who will hopefully step into the very large footprints left by Alex.

We can help. Go to http:www.alexfoundation.org and make a donation. There is also a tape you can buy on how to train your bird to communicate "the Alex Way", three publications by Dr. Pepperberg, and many other items. Check it out.

Dr. Pepperberg has supported the Avian community in many ways. It's time for us all to return the favor and support her research and her projects.

More Lovely Seniors

One of my favorite email lists is LGD-L (Livestock Guardian Dog List), hosted by Listserv. It started years ago with a small group of LGD owners, including the owners of these two Caucasian Ovtcharkas. I feel we "grew up" in LGDs together - along with the owners of Ursa's family members featured earlier.

Mishka is the beloved companion of Cissy Stamm, living in New York state. She has recently retired from being Cissy's service dog in NY City. Mishka is a beautiful 11 years young. She went through several homes before she found Cissy, and her perfect place in the universe. Mishka turns 12 September 6.

Nushi also lives in New York state. Originally imported from Budapest as part of a breeding program, her Hungarian birth name was Feleghazi Hetordog Aida (Hetordog means "seven devils"), and the breeder's call name for her was Garra (Claw in Portuguese). At 4.5 months Nushi had other ideas, and instead found her way to Pamela and Joel Rose where she has been their joy and delight for 11 years. She diligently protects her home and family, including the cats.

And, since this is my blog, here's another picture of Ursa, taken a couple months ago. The huge tumor on her jaw is now getting smaller - since I've been putting raw honey on it. Very odd, but very wonderful if it continues. Ursa wasn't a rescue but was rehomed to me at the age of 5. It took her some time to adjust to country life (she grew up in Boston), but she now loves it, and spends most of her time outside helping Charlie protect their world. My life has been richer since Ursa has been in it.

All in a day's work...

On days that I'm home I like to let the sheep, goats and donkey out to do road work; that is, to eat down the excess vegetation on the sides of the lane. They tend to agree that this is a good job for them, and are happy to oblige.

It's late afternoon, and the goats and some of the sheep think it's time to come back inside. Charlie - perhaps the only one who truly dislikes the flock going to work - greets them at the gate.


There's always a treat when the flock gets back into the field - I want them to be eager to go both directions - and intrepid hens claim flock membership.


It's difficult to get a picture of a donkey that isn't either all nose or from a great distance. It took a lot of coaxing to get Polly to come close without trying to eat the camera.

Heady Scents

Each night as I walk into my bedroom I'm met by a heavenly scent. My night-blooming jasmine is in bloom.

This lovely plant has been blooming for the past week. The one in the living room hasn't bloomed this year. That may have something to do with the heavy pruning it received from the sheep when I left it outside to get some fresh air. It's so fast growing, within a week it was again covered in new leaves.

I love flowering houseplants. I need more with scents. The ones below are some of my favorites - even if they don't smell pretty, the blooms make up for it.

House Guardian

Berna was feeling left out, and I had to agree she hasn't been getting a lot of camera time. I decided to take a couple of pictures of her doing what she does best - actively guarding the house and all of its contents, including me and the herders.

A working dog needs to conserve energy for the moment she is needed. Berna can make it from this position in the middle of the house to any threatened area in a nano second, and in full roar.

Sometimes it makes more sense to guard from the living room, on the cushion.

Family Portrait

Ursa is from one of the most beautiful Caucasian Ovtcharka families I've seen. Here's a partial family album; all of these dogs are over 12 at the time of the pictures.

Stately Blanche, mother

Ilka, proud sister

Ursa, wanting only belly rubs

Brother Slava, the largest of the litter and one of the most beautiful

Pramarla

Pramarla the horse. This wonderful work of art was constructed by my Aunt and Uncle, Win and Doug Kraatz, in Queensland, Australia. Doesn't it make you want to hop on for a ride?

Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens

There ain't nobody here at all
We chicken's tryin' to sleep

And you butt in
And hobble, hobble hobble hobble
It's a sin
(complete lyrics at LouisJordan.com)

The Rochester crew. All of these birds originally came from a farm in Rochester, WA. They seem delighted to be together again. My hen turkey has seemed depressed for a while, and now her friends have come she's fine again. The lovely Seabrights gather 'round the water cooler like workers in an office.

The Golden Seabright cock. Isn't he a beauty? He accidentally ended up in the bird building with the big Rhode Island Reds, and isn't at all sure of why he's there.

The Ducks Learn To Fly

It started with wing flapping as they left the shelter in the morning, and getting their feet a few inches off the ground. Soon they were up on the tree stumps and cages. This flying is fun stuff!

Now I find them on the roof, or their favorite place, the top of the van. I could wish for a better favorite place. They are big birds now, and sleep outside. They haven't yet discovered the pond. I hope I'm around when they do.

The Guardians

(Nobody's mentioned to Squeak that LGD stands for Livestock Guardian Dogs)

Go Fish

Last week I bought two dozen feeder goldfish to see if fish can survive in my pond. Somehow I never really recognized how large my pond is until I released those 24 fish into it. They immediately disappeared. I didn't see them again until today.

These fish are wary; good for their survival, not so good for picture taking. They stay near the center of the pond, moving away from any activity or dog barks.

I spent quite a bit of time watching them, trying to count them. Suddenly I saw a white flash and heard a very large splash. This guy came over to sunbathe near me.

Several dragonflies did flyovers, but they aren't particularly easy to photograph either. If you look closely one is resting on the stick by the pretty blue flowers.

Experienced Farm Hands

Will Work For Room and Board
Our experienced work crew provide needed services for the busy farmer.

Work Supervision

Quality Assurance

Insect Control and Soil Aeration

Cleanup of hoof stock shelters

Rock-a-bye Baby

I try to keep hens with chicks in a shelter at night, but one hen refused to oblige. I never could find where she spent the night. Then last week I was walking under the trees at dusk and heard the distinctive sound of happy chicks. I looked up.

The Peahen, on the other hand, gladly comes into a shelter every evening. The chicks have recently grown enough to fly up to the high perch.

Chickie Update

Berna the ASD showed what might have been protective interest in our new resident.

But I wanted the chick to have a well-rounded family upbringing. I rounded up the hen with the youngest chicks and put them all in a cage. I then introduced the still-uncoordinated chick. Everyone showed interest again, and soon the chick was warmly ensconced under the hen with the other chicks.
The family is now out in the world and doing well. It looks like my valiant chick will get her way and thrive.

I'm Here!

This spring I tucked a large dog crate behind a stump, filled it with straw, and used a fiberglass panel to keep rain and dogs out. My hope was the chickens would find this an attractive place to lay eggs - a place where I could find and collect those eggs.

The chickens loved it. Soon I was finding 4 eggs a day laid in a neat nest. Then time got away from me, and when I checked for eggs I found a protective hen guarding the egg stash. Soon I found my young duck was spending nights there with the hen. Having been raised by a dark hen, she tends to think of all dark hens as mom. Ducks, it seems, want to keep the family unit in tact longer than hens do.

Thursday morning I saw the hen out, followed by 4 fluffy balls. I went up to clean out the rest of the eggs, and found another hen fiercely guarding the nest. Yesterday that hen was importantly leading her 3 fluff balls around, fending off anyone who came too close.

Once again I checked to see if I could now get in to clean. There were still almost a dozen eggs in the damp and messy crate, but no feisty hens. I was about to remove the eggs when I heard a very load peeping. I got out and looked behind the crate, thinking that one of the new family had gotten stuck, but the peeping had stopped. I crawled back in (this is a huge crate), and a baby chick again loudly announced her presence.

It took Jesse (Samoyeds are quick to respond to bird calls for help) and I several more minutes to figure out that the chick in distress was still in an egg. Only one egg was calling. It had a very small hole pecked out, and was completely cold - but very noisy. The chick had taken the movement and warmth from my hand as a positive sign. I'm here, she said, and I want out. I carefully pulled away the shell, and a damp and noisy chick pushed out. I gathered up the remaining eggs and place them and the chick under a heat lamp.

This did not satisfy my latest farm resident for long. She wanted to be held, to feel a heart beating above her. Here's a chick wanting a mom, I thought, and out there is a hen mothering a small flock. Let's get them together.

Mom was most interested in the new chick in distress. She came right over, and started making a huge display of finding food and teaching chicks to eat. The other 3 were running around happily pecking at anything mom found. The new kid just wanted to cuddle up and sleep. Finally mom settled down on top of the still-damp baby.

I came back to check on progress about a half hour later. Mom was just walking off with her original chicks, and the littlest babe was flat on the ground. She was fine, just a bit cold and still wanting cuddling.


So she spent the night cuddled up to a hot water bottle, inside a thermal bag. This morning she's dry, fluffy, and still in need of a mom. I'm going to try her again with a momma hen. It's been raining for a week now, so keeping her warm and dry will be a challenge - unless the hen and chicks adopt her quickly and she can keep up with them. She's a day behind, but one very determined soul.

Best Laid Plans...

The sheep shelter.

The sheep water.

Enjoying the View

Dog Days of Summer

Summer Fashion

Sheep shearers are difficult to find these days, especially for small flocks. A local farmer I buy hay from picked up my crew to be sheared with his mob. Here they are sporting their summer 'dos.

The horned ram looks a lot like the sleek goats. They are going to be so much cooler now, with the temps heading up to the 80s and 90s.

Fourth of July

America's favorite holiday always leaves me puzzled and sleepless. Why are we so thrilled by loud noised and dangerous fireworks? Fireworks often set off by people who've spent the day drinking. Frightened animals and fire hazards, injuries to children...we are an odd lot.

This year summer came to the Northwest early - it's been in the 80s for days. Usually summer begins here July 5. June is notoriously cool, cloudy and wet. It was this year as well, punctuated by the occasional steamy hot day. The blackberries have gone wild. I've worried that while I'm out pruning my way into an overgrown area the canes will attack me from the rear, encasing me forever in a briar patch. Keeping 1/4 mile of road passable is a continuous task. After a day of pruning a new cane waves proudly into the roadway.

I've been remiss in keeping up with my blogging. I'm going to backfill with pictures I've taken through the spring.