Contemplating Sleds

Here's the food for the hoof stock.

It's the other side of this shed.

There are the hungry sheep, goats and donkey.

Here's my brand new Ursa cart. Just the right size for a bale of hay, turns on a dime, big wheels for handling mud, high clearance for uneven ground. Perfect for western Washington winters.

Not so good for 6-12 inches of snow.

The hay is heavy. The snow is deep. I am not 25. It's been a long morning. 

Wind and Snow

My property looks like a mountain slope in winter, shaped by wind and snow. In reality it's just a ridge, topping out at around 1,000 feet, barely in the Cascade foothills. 

Here the snow has been blown out from around the south side of the house, piled up into drifts.

Ursa taking a break before braving more exploring. She traversed some of these drifts to get there.

Thankfully none of the dogs in this area are eager to escape, as the snow makes a nice step to the top of the fence.

The snow at the front of the house (east side) is packed down from human, canine, and poultry feet. It doesn't look deep. However, that bucket is about 12" tall, and is standing on the ground.

Just down the slope are windswept areas, bare of all but crusty ice.

This snow is very noisy. It has a thick crust of ice and makes loud crunchy noises as I walk through it. I also quickly learned to follow Charlie paths. He seems to have an uncanny ability to sense deep snow and avoid it. My usual path put me knee deep into snow, while 10 feet away Charlie's side path was only a few inches deep. 

Lineup

A line of sheep, just standing, as if on queue at an English bus stop.

My theory is they were heading to the gate when they heard me crunching my way down the hill. They then stopped, waiting to see if I'd deliver the hay to the shelter. "Is this that pizza we ordered?"

Goose Woes

There are times when it's tough being a goose. This snow's crunchy surface holds up bantam chickens, but not Toulous geese. Step, CRUNCH, sink, rebalance. Step, crunch, sink.

Goose prints.

Ursa the Intrepid

At 5:30 this morning 14 year old Ursa was less than thrilled with the strong wind, cold air and crunchy snow. When she tried to get to her favorite pee area she got stuck in snow drifts with a hard ice surface. 

That didn't stop her from accompanying me later on my morning water-hauling and feeding rounds.

On the way back to the house the path was partially blocked by a fallen tree. Ursa looked at it thoughtfully.

What do you do after slogging through crusty snow, getting stuck in drifts, and generally having a hard time of your morning walk, and now being confronted with an obstacle?

Rest up. 

The Guardian

Berna has always loved and revered Ursa, but hasn't been so thrilled to have her inside most of the time. Today, however, Ursa had a difficult morning, and Berna took a protective position, watching over her aging friend.

Wind Damage

It's a good thing I don't have any escape-minded dogs, as I now have a bridge from inside the fence to outside.

These trees went down in the same swirling pattern the snow and the sound made last night. Looks like I have a new clearing.

Snow Storm!

I wasn't feeling the usual buffeting of the house, wind beating on the south windows. The area in front of the house didn't have much new snow, although it's blowing in all directions. Then I walked down to check on the animals and turn off lights in the bird building. Just to the north of the house snow is blown into drifts. The wind roars and howls, has a living presence. The landscape looks unfamiliar as I walk down the hill, snow coming up to my knees.

This wind is from the NE, a very unusual direction. Normally it rushes up the south slope and slams into my house. Now it is getting caught in the woods to the north, trying to slide in around the big garage door, covering my straw - usually protected on the north side of the building - with snow. 

As I trudged up the hill, wind circling me and surrounding me with snow, I thought about people caught out in winter storms, not having a warm house to go back to. We don't normally get this kind of storm west of the Cascades. We really aren't prepared for it. I surely hope my power stays on. The wind is ramping up, whistling through cracks that shouldn't exist in the house, maintaining an aural presence clearly heard through walls and windows. 

Winter is here.

Snow Beauty, Snow Beast

The snow makes everything lovely. Every branch, every object, is a contrast of soft white and dark. White on white becomes a thing of beauty.

Even when that soft, fluffy white pushes trees to their limit, helping them crash down on fences and gates. I have several young maples down. The original trees, huge and majestic, were logged years ago. With tree tenacity young sprouts grow all around the stump, reaching for the sky. These suckers are not as stable as that original old tree, and can't take the combination of wet, wind and snow we've just had. When the snow clears I'll have lots of cleanup work to keep me warm.

Best Laid Plans #3

As usual, my critters and I have entirely different interpretations of what my preparations are for. I set up shelters and feeding stations that I think are the best possible solutions for the various animals, and they do what they want.

The dog shelter continues to be a favorite spot for my Seabright bantam chickens - and a full full sized friends.

Meanwhile Ursa and Charlie are inside warming up and drying off, but Jesse lays in the middle of the yard, becoming one with the snow. His only complaint is that no one wants to play with him in this joyous white world.

Squeak keeps the wild bird food nice and warm, so the junkos and towhees will come by and provide entertainment and food for her. 

I put extra straw in the sheep shelter last night so my sheep, goats and donkey would have a soft, warm spot to hang out in during the snows. I come down the hill to find an empty shelter, and sheep laying in the snow.

Or hanging out by the gate, lounging around waiting for breakfast and warm water. 

Snow Bath

My geese have been upset with the lack of liquid water, their bath having frozen over the weekend, and buckets of water just aren't the same thing. Then today it started snowing again, and they spent their morning using beakfulls of snow for a winter "dust" bath.

Sun, Sky and Tree

A Day at the Races

The email came on Friday. "Do you know what the driving time is between Seattle and Portland?" My friend on Vancouver Island, it turns out, had a horse racing on Sunday at Portland Meadows. This is one of my Pyr list friends, we hadn't actually met. She asked to come see my dogs and their charges, and I asked if I could join her at the races. 

Meeting her was the beginning of a wonderful day. We got to know each other over coffee and cakes, and then drove down to Portland Meadows, where we met her trainer and headed to the barns to see her horse Diva. 

Back when I was in college a friend gave me a book on handicapping, which started a couple years of learning about horse racing and making a few trips to Longacres. My betting was mostly on paper, as I'm not one to risk my hard earned cash, but I did well in theory and I certainly enjoyed the strategies, and following horses and trainers and jockeys. 

Going to the barns was a whole different world. I kept thinking I'd stepped into a Dick Francis novel, without the crime. Besides the trainer, I got to meet the grooms, the exercise rider, the jockey, and of course the horses. Beautifully cared for, contented horses. The trainer is having a good run at the Meadows, winning respect as well as races. This doesn't surprise me, she and her team take such good care of the horses, know them all so well, treat them so well, I understand why the horses run their hearts out for them. 

Lucy had been promised a goat if she won her race, which explained the goat tied outside the stall. The horse on the other side seemed to think he'd been brought for her; both spent much time watching the very fat goat laying on his bed of straw and hay.

It was so interesting seeing the pre-race activities, walking across the tracks to the stands, watching the horses paddocked (where they are saddled and kept before post time), and then walked out to the gate. I love getting peaks into other worlds, seeing the behind-the-scenes activities.

To make this day perfect, Diva won her race. This was particularly great since my friend bred this horse, her dam, and her dam's dam. It's much more exciting watching a race with the owner, trainer, and training team. They were all so very delighted she'd won. As was I.

Racing photos by Reed Palmer Photography

The Beauty After the Storm

From long experience living in the Northwest, when the rains begin in October or November, I always worry that they will forget to stop. A brilliant sunrise is such a delight - clouds are thin enough in the sky to allow the sun to break through. 

Rivers in the Sky

I've been reading about atmospheric rivers. These are enormous channels of moisture-laden air picked up in the mid-latitudes, concentrated into the channels by cold fronts, and transported by strong winds towards the poles. Occasionally a river is formed from water picked up in the tropics. The tropics, as we know, has lots of water. These tropical atmospheric rivers get pushed ahead of tropical storms, which are also heading out at high speeds. One such tropical river begins around Hawai'i and flows in a northwesterly direction towards North America, where it bumps into mountains. The mountains divert the flow upwards. Up air is cooler than down air, so as this river in the air flows up the mountains the moisture condenses and flows back down as rain.

Which explains why the sky has become a river, flowing down from the heavens in a steady stream and flooding the earth.

Happy Cats

Cats are much more difficult to switch to raw food than dogs. They are fussy eaters, and will pick and choose which of the foods offered they will eat. Until Rad Cat.  This Portland company makes nutritionally complete raw foods for cats, packed in tubs. I have 5 cats purring praises, eating every scrap of what I give them. I feel much better feeding my obligate carnivores meat instead of grain, and Rad Cat seems to be getting 4 paws up. It's also easy to store and easy to feed. 

The only problem with raw feeding is that now I need another freezer and another fridge.

Autumn Brilliance

The Pacific Northwest is not know for fall colors. Most of the native deciduous trees turn yellow, only a few going red. And, of course, most trees are evergreen conifers.

I am partial to the effect created by the dark, stately evergreen backdrop, setting off the bright yellow and occasional red. This year was exceptional. It got cold early, and we didn't have driving rain and winds knocking off the leaves.

Another unusual aspect this year was a number of clear, sunny days, providing a blue background instead of the more common grey.

The broadleaf trees embraced the sun, returned the glow, providing brilliant points of sunlight from the woods. Gold fire amidst the green caught first the eyes, and then the breath. 

Another Glorious Sunrise

We've been blessed with a warm, dry Indian summer. Late October, and the skies are blue (or red and pink) and people walk the streets in t-shirts. It's a joy to behold. And nice days make for wonderful sunrises.

I love the way the angle of the sun and intensity of the colors highlight different clouds, changing the look of the patterns.  

Berna Meets Scooba!

Berna isn't as thrilled as I am with my new helper - iRobot's Scooba, the floor washing robot. This thing's great. My dogs walk in and out of the kitchen with muddy feet, and my floor stays muddy all winter. Now I fill Scooba up and set him to work while I go do other tasks. Presto! A clean floor! Helps with keeping the floor picked up, too.

Now I need to get Dirt Dog, iRobot's equivalent to a shop vac. Normal people use Roomba, the vacuum bot, but I have too much dirt and hair for that. 

Morning Pastels

The sky colors were actually less intense in real life, and unfortunately the exquisite pale pinks and golds of the very early sunrise were in a sky too dark for my camera to capture. I love the patterns of the clouds, and how different they look a few minutes later when the sun peeks above the mountains. This time of year every clear day is a treasure. The morning air is crisp and cold, the grass white with frost. The sky is a perfect reflection of the feel of the morning.

Morning Mugging

The darkness increases quickly. Every morning it is dark later, every evening it is dark sooner. This is autumn in the north; dark, damp, cool.

I gather the food for my chickens, and walk out the door. There is a glimmer of light, shapes are seen but not clear. I walk down the stairs, and am mugged by chicks. Twenty tiny feathered balls surround me, pecking my feet, jumping for the food in my hands. I'm afraid if I step forward I will step on one or more of them. I sit on the steps and feed out organic hamburger to intrepid young chickens. The dogs wander over to see if they can get some of those treats. The chicks ignore them. A cat comes on the porch with big meows. I give her a hunk of hamburger. The chicks steal it from her.

I think that if I tripped and fell, the chicks would devour me. I imagine my dogs protecting me from two inch baby chickens. It is cold. They are hungry. I am out late, because it is still dark. I sit and admire the sleek beauty of these tiny birds, so eager to live.

I want to hibernate, to stay in bed until it is light and warm. My feathered friends are out seeking food at the first glimmer of dawn. Life goes on, even without the sun. 

Morning Darkness

The clouds are dark and flat, forming a lid on the world. The lid is ill fitting, it chatters around the mountains, and gold light pours in. The sun sends out tendrils, looking for openings, shining brightly through the cracks, warming the air inside. The clouds are stubborn, resisting the light, maintaining the darkness. 

I am inside, looking out through the cracks. Where would we be without mountains, keeping the clouds from forming a seal, allowing in color and brightness and hope for a better day. 

Enter Stage Left: Fall

We've had a wonderful late summer, with temps up in the 80s just a few days ago. Suddenly the trees are turning, and a blustery wind brought in the clouds and rain. The rain hasn't been the usual deluge, but on again off again showers. The temperature, while well below the lovely 70s and 80s we've just had, has been in the 60s. The gusty wind has a quality that makes one smile from inside, as it blows freshness and joy all the way through body and soul. 

My chickens and sheep want extra food, and spend more time hiding under shelters. This is a gentle transition, showing that there can be joy in autumn and winter, in spite of short days, cold weather and the ever present rain. The maple leaves are bright yellow beacons, reminders of sunny days.

 

Raw Feeding At It's Best

At least from a dog's point of view. I recently got a great deal on beef cuts and bones. Imagine my surprise when the bones turned out to be things like entire shoulder blades, well covered in meat. Fortunately I have large dogs, who are up to the task of eating them.

Berna was given her shoulder blade outside. She felt the living room was a safer place to eat such a treat. Since my back door has a faulty catch, she was able to make that choice.

The next day there was a polished shoulder blade on the floor. I moved it outside. It's back in, about 1/3 the original size. My dogs are very, very happy with the buying co-op I belong to.

Cat Wars

I think I now understand my cat issues. Cats do not by nature want to travel in social groups, being the independent loner types. Groucho, above, has decided she is queen cat of the farm. She follows me around if I'm out, and Charlie around if I'm not. She is everywhere all the time. The other cats do not like her, and seem afraid of her. It has taken some convincing, but Squeak and Pus now both seem to understand that they do indeed have a place here, and I want them and will protect them from the evil Groucho. Groucho is as sweet a cat as any person would want, but seems to present quite another face to felines.

The Black Piper

Three hens hatched out clutches of 10-15 chicks within 2 weeks. One was my tiny Silver Sebright hen. About 4 days after the third hatch, I noticed this one hen with a crowd, the bantam with only 5 chicks, and the other black hen with none.

Somehow this hen, the pied piper of chickens, managed to take on all the other chicks. There are 23 in this picture. She has managed to keep them all alive and healthy. I've never seen this behavior before. No one seems unhappy with the situation, so who am I to complain?

Squeak Squeaks

Tonight as I opened the door, Squeak jumped on the porch, looked up at me in hello, and sauntered in. I snatched her up in a hug, held her as long as she'd allow, and then did what she'd been waiting for - I fed her.

So all my cats have shown up. However, Pus, after spending the day in a cage that protected her (and her food) from the chickens, decided to go outside. She did not reappear when I needed to move on. I'll have to check for her again in the morning. Crazy cats!

Cats, Cats, and more Cats

I have an abundance of cats. I came here with two, both strays I adopted at my last place. Now I have 5 that I intentionally feed, several more that lurk around the edges. Where do all these cats come from? We don't have any close neighbors - although one cat was the "dear pet" of the people across the street. He has been taken back down there a number of times, and keeps returning here. 

This weekend I realized that it had been some time since I'd seen 2 of my cats. They are pretty independent, but usually show up regularly for meals. I spent quite a bit of time calling and looking wherever I could think of, without success.

Tonight as I was driving in I saw a cat dart into the bushes. She looked familiar. I stopped, grabbed a flashlight, and called "Pus? is that you? Pus?" "Meow!" "Pus?" "Meow!" She was hiding in the brambles, afraid to come out. I had to sneak my way in past the berries. Pus came out then, and let me pick her up. She clung to me. She's fairly thin. She was also within a minute's run from the building she should be living in. 

Pus is back inside in front of a large bowl of food she is ignoring. She's been loved and pet, and hopefully is feeling safe again.

Now If Squeak will just show up again.

Millie's Big Day

Millie the rescue Pyr was not an immediate success as a working dog. I ran out of training time long before she ran out of enthusiasm for the chase. She has been living in a large field next to the hoof stock. She has chased down and killed 3 chickens during her stay here.  I did not have high hopes for her working future.

One evening several weeks ago I heard cheeping as I was feeding Millie. The cheeps were definitely coming from somewhere in her territory. Oh no, I thought - one of my chicks wandered in and got stuck down there in the dark. 

The next morning as I was feeding Millie I saw momma peahen and her 4 chicks wandering up the hill, followed by a peacock. Oh no. Not chicks, peafowl. Oh no. 

But the peafowl have survived, and I've seen them several times in Millie's territory. She seems to ignore them. Good dog. Odd, since I've watched her chase chickens. But encouraging - perhaps there's hope for her working career.

Tonight as I was feeding the hoof stock, I heard a goat's mournful cry. That sound is unmistakable. I had a goat caught in the fence at the back of the paddock. I took the hay in to the sheep, and walked to the back fence. There was Millie, thrilled to see me, next to my silly Nubian whose head was stuck on Millie's side of the fence. Millie was beside herself with joy and pride. She had stayed by this goat, protecting her, not harming her. She was rightfully proud of herself, and delighted to get my praise. She knew she'd done well, and was totally thrilled about it.

I guess this means back to training, and getting Millie in with the sheep. I don't think she'll ever be completely trustworthy with chickens, but she seems to want to have the company of my four-footed crew.  I love these dogs. Millie is so very pleased with herself, eager to be praised, and eager to perform her ancient tasks. Her youthful enthusiasm, lack of any kind of training for her first 1-1/2 years have led to confusion, but I think she's getting it figured out.

Surprise!

It's becoming a familiar story, but it thrills me still. This morning I was met by a feisty little hen bringing out her 10 newly hatched chicks. 

 

Soon she tucked them beneath her warm feathers, shielding them from the world. These Sebrights are small and beautiful, and very good parents. They are also very good at disappearing when they want to hide their eggs and raise a family. And a joy to watch as they shepherd tiny fluff balls around the yard.

Late Summer Days

The sheep are outside mowing the sides of the lane. The goats and donkey are hanging with me as I cut down alders that have miraculously appeared on the side of the road, 6 feet tall and up to an inch in diameter. The saplings will become perches and chew toys for parrots. I cut smaller ones as browse for the sheep and goats for those days they don't get out to graze.

Down the lane a dozen chicks drift back and forth across the lane like black and white leaves dancing in the breeze. They dart in and out around sheep legs, as if what the sheep are eating must be better than anything else.

The goats sneak up and start eating my soon-to-be perches, which obviously taste much better than those thousands still growing beside the lane.

Another lovely day, as late summer again draws sunshine and warmth.

In the Dark of the Night

I usually share fun, interesting, and beautiful things here. But I have a farm that I try to keep as natural as possible. That means that everyone isn't always safely hidden behind wood and wire.

My chickens are entirely free range - they choose where to sleep and where to nest. Most sleep in the trees. My white hen gone bad nested just outside the fence, under some berry brambles. A well hidden lair.

Or so it seemed. For three weeks she guarded and trained her 15 chicks, losing only 3 to the many dangers for small, defenseless creatures. That's pretty amazing, since there are many ravens, hawks, cats, and other hungry predators around. And chicks are very small. 

And then. I was coming up the drive after dark, and saw an owl in the headlights. An owl on the road, with it's recent catch. Pulling and tearing, devouring a small white hen. My small white hen. 

This is a time of mixed feelings. I love owls. They are beautiful creatures who have an important role in the ecosystem. They are excellent hunters, and I am always in awe of their silent flight. They appear, and disappear, and I am lucky to see them. They are the most successful predator on my farm. Dogs have a difficult time guarding against a silent and swift winged predator.  It's amazing to me that I drove in as the owl was eating its prey - what are the chances of that? I only wish he'd been able to finish the meal, and at least go away full.

I am very sad to lose my sweet little hen who was such a good mother. Fortunately, it looks like her entire brood has survived. One chick has a limp, but I think I've counted them all. It's hard to tell. They do not hold still - as soon as they see me or the dogs they run as fast as they can to shelter. They hang out in groups of 4-6, but the groups are never far apart. I don't know where they are sleeping, it must be some place safe.

Life goes on. The cycle continues. Some live, some die so others can live.