Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?

Little Bear doesn't like sleeping in the barn with her brother, two sons and a daughter.  She's more of a loner.  So when the weather is bad, like say over a foot of snow, she stays in the garage.  Yeah, right...

She was pretty comfy until little Miss I-Can't-Hold-Still-For-More-Than-Three-Seconds laid down beside her!  Oh well... it is Sadie's bed.

life on the gravel lane

Sadie's favorite cat is Teddy Bear... she just doesn't know it yet! Ted B. adores Sadie. He was the runt and has a funny sound and wobbly walk. Anytime Sadie is around, Teddy wants to rub faces, but Sadie's favorite activity is finding Daddy. When she spots him coming up the lane and runs past the rooster's territory, he sounds his warning!

chickens, and horses, and goats - oh my!

Ridding the critters of mites and worms... I never had these worries in the burbs. Hubby suspects the chicks are infested with mites. No big deal, it's quite a common thing, but still needs prompt attention. The big deal is in the treatment...

There is a powder that will eliminate the problem. The problem lies in that the powder must be applied to not only the hen house cracks, crevices, bedding, nests, etc, but also to each and every chicken. ALL EIGHTY! So Hubby asked, "How are we supposed to treat seventy-five chicks?" I replied, "One at a time." I've got a plan. I hope it works.

Let's make it a pest-ridding week. I figure I might as well worm the six cats, four goats, and two horses.

The last time we wormed the goats was nearly fatal... for us! Fully grown, they are quite strong. I, being a 'townie', bought the first goat wormer I found. The labeled stated how much of the liquid was to be administered to each goat. Apparently, even though the goats love the taste of mud and dandelions, they abhor the taste of this pink liquid stuff! I'd love to have a video of Hubby wrestling Elvis while I scurried around them with the eye-dropper! I'm sure our 'country' friends laugh at us quite frequently.

I'm using a different approach this time... Turns out there's a pelleted form of wormer for goats. They're supposed to eat it like feed. You just pour the correct amount into the feed trough and let them eat it! Who'd a thought? I'll let you know how that turns out.

I mastered the cat meds long ago. When we had fourteen (oops) it was either learn a fail-proof method or be scarred for life! I tried the 'wrap-the-pretty-kitty-in-a-towel' trick. Yeah, right! Without resorting to duct tape, how do you keep the claws inside the towel? (It did qualify for my insurance to cover a tetanus shot on my next doctor visit.) Four hands were simply not enough to control to flailing limbs with extended switchblades.

What would a mother do? Isn't that a question we ask often when faced with a dilemma? So what does a mother cat do when handling her young? Of course! The scruff of the neck! Turns out it works, not just for kittens either. Now, whenever I have to give meds to any of the cats, I simply lift their front-end off the ground by the scruff of the neck. (Sqeeky Bear sometimes requires lifting his entire body.) They passively accept anything I stick in their furry little faces.

The horses can't be picked up by the scruff of their necks. 'Real' horse people do not approve of my worming method. Some meds must be administered orally, so teaching a horse to accept the wormer is a good way to keep them 'med-ready'. Mine aren't. Sorry. I do need to take the time to work on that someday. But for now, I use a wormer they like. It comes in a tube they don't like. So I squeeze the wormer into a little bit of grain and stir. They lap it up as long as I use enough oats & feed to dilute the taste.

So 'country folk' - go ahead and laugh! At least I have blog material!

a perfect fit

Never in the history of furniture has a chair had such a perfect fit. Let me introduce you to Mickey. She looked like a tiny mouse when she was born, hence the name. She is the only barn cat that comes inside. Being the runt, she was always picked on, so her place is in the woods and not the fields. She has a nice home there. She doesn't get wet or muddy. But when she gets hungry, she comes up to the door of my bedroom. She disappears, sometimes for days on end. She went out one day last week and didn't come back until yesterday. Hubby had given her up for dead. (He worries a lot!) But, as usual, she came back to catch up on her lovin'. I missed sleeping with her. So that's Mickey. I caught her sleeping today in one of the bedroom chairs. It seemed to be just the right size...