Farm Vibes

Rock, meet hard place

We last left off with Lucy joining the LGD (livestock guard dog) crew.

Lucy Lou, LGD extraordinaire 

I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful this 6 month old puppy guard dog is doing. Simply unbelievable! Previously living with and guarding goats at a young age, this youngster has stepped up to the sheep plate and hit a home run. She (almost) immediately bonded with the sheep. Her home is now the pasture area surrounding the pond where the sheep now reside as well. She does a wonderful job of staying with them, laying with them, and watching the sheep as a good guard dog does. She does not bother the ducks in the pond, and when she was up at the house (when we first got her) she did not chase chickens. Pawfect. She's young, so she's still learning but overall she gets a A++ for effort. Yet, she's not going to be able to do this alone. She needs backup. Yes, Whisper and Levi can sneak under the fence and come in to save the day. But how about we give this fabulous girl a sidekick?

Explain

This is Round 2 for trying out new guard dogs. Remember Dixie and Davis? Chicken eaters. GREAT guard dogs, but we have too many chickens to mess around with dogs that eat them. So, sold! Now, we attempt again with different pups at a different age. This time-around we'll get 6 months olds, so that a lot of the puppy stage has passed (puppy = chicken chaser). Granted, this is no guarantee. We shall try though. This time, 2 girls. One down (Lucy) and one to go. As I scour CraigsList for potential candidates, I come across a 5 month old Great Pyrenees/Anatolian. She's a big girl, with huge paws. After driving an hour to take a look at her, I packed her up and brought her back home.

Her name is Marley, and she's bigger, fluffier and more tan than Lucy.

Marley in front, with Lucy
in back, chewing a stick

Sad Lucy, when Marley steals the stick

They met, and have become fast friends. They are enjoying each other, as puppies need a playmate. We are hoping they will be life-mates as Levi and Whisper are. Together, they will be trained to guard the sheep up by the pond.


What happens now

All is well except for one problem. Marley keeps getting under the fence to come back up to the house. She's not yet bonded with the sheep as Lucy has. Therefore, we are going to have an underground fence placed next week that will set the boundaries for these dogs as they grow and understand what their territory is. We had one for Levi and Whisper many years ago, and now they understand where they are to be. We will do the same for this new duo as they grow and learn. Luckily, these types of dogs have a lot of natural instinct, but guidance is still needed, as dogs like this aren't just automatically great guard dogs. It requires work on our part to teach. There's a thousand YouTubes for LGD's and how best to train them. Seeing that Marley and Lucy have very different personalities and backgrounds, we will do our best to train them to understand the rules and expectations.

Off to a good start

Marley and Lucy
with Cricket and Bandit

I'll keep you posted on their progress....... so far, so wonderful. A bonding experience is coming up for them, they will both be spayed and recover together. It's going to be great.



It's so easy to fall in love

After I acquired my miniature horses, I've learned so many things that I had no idea about. Primarily, anything about miniature horses. They're easy, I thought. You just put them out in the pasture and let them graze. Uh no. They will want to be loved and petted. Uh no. They will learn to love me. Maybe. I'm going to focus on Hope and Faith in this segment, as Dora has allowed me into her world, and I'm readily able to halter and groom her. But these two.....

Hope, mama of Faith

Faith, who happens to be the most
untrusting of the two

The answer is

I was wrong. I had no idea what I was getting into with miniature horses. I've been fortunate to find a farrier who also has mini's, and she's taught me many lessons about my new fur friends. Firstly, mini's can get overweight very quick by being free to graze in the pasture (plus they came to me overweight already, so that's an issue I'm working on). I learned that mini's don't need a lot of food. Sweet green grass is not that good for them. Hay, yes please. Rationed. Secondly, since they are rescue mini's, they are extremely scared of humans as they have been abused previously. You can see it on them. Scars, and more scars from being whipped and mistreated. Why would I think they would trust me? They don't.

What happens now

The work begins. I started by getting them in the barn to isolate them to start working with them (which is a feat in itself). Particularly Hope and Faith. Their physical scars tell their story. You're a human? You will hurt me. Sad, so so sad, but that's what they think. I will need to be patient, stay consistent and work with them slowly to gain trust. This is going to take awhile. It was not easy to get them in the barn to begin with. But we kept at it. Then, once in the barn, they were scared out of their minds. I kept at it. Slowly, calmly and when possible, doing this daily.

Sunshine in their eyes

It's there. Their sweet spirit, the light inside them dim and weak. They have been broken and beat down in their prior life. It's now their time to shine. I begin slow. Smell my hand. Nothing can be IN your hand, as they think you're going to hurt them with whatever is in your hand. Next day, smell my hand. Next day, soft words and calm spirit, smell my hand and try to gently touch their face. Weeks go by with slow and promising progress. Then it happens. I've gained Hope's trust enough to halter her.

Hope, not thrilled about this

You deserve a whole sheet of gold stars

After that, I begin to halter her and then use my hand to pet, gently rub and desensitize her to my touch. Her face, then shoulders, then her back, and then eventually her front legs and after more days pass, I'm able to hold a brush in my hand, in the stall. Then, with conditioner on the brush, I start slowly brushing a small portion of her mane each day. Then it happens, one day I'm able to brush her mane completely. As days pass, Hope comes to understand what we will be doing. Halter, brush, love and release. Repeat.

Keep the Faith

Faith is young, very young and all her young short life she's been beat. She will need time, lots of time to come around to realizing I'm safe. As with Hope, we've made progress but it's slow. After many days, I'm able to brush Faith's mane almost to the top of her head - all without a halter. The halter sends her into flashbacks. She becomes frantic.

Hope on the left, haltered and patiently waiting
Faith on the right, being groomed unhaltered
We have come a long way, baby

The halter will wait for Faith, as I need more time to show her my touch is pure. She allows me to brush her without a halter and rope because it's all on her terms. Granted, we are in a stall where she can't get away from me, and I'm not retreating. We are going to do this, a little at a time, and I'm not going away. She resigns herself reluctantly to me and my antics. It's a lot like us wearing a mask. Do we have to? Yes. Do we want to? No. Then, we spend some time talking, like a mini therapy session (get it, mini) and tell each other our woes. I stand with her while she's in a panic. We calm down together. Faith will need more time, which I happen to have. And hard-toed boots.

On it

I had 2 roads to take with these rescue mares: 1. Set them out to our pasture and enjoy them from a distance, or  2. Begin the work to be a better mini horse mom. Yes, I picked option #2. I'm no saint, yet I'm going to try to give these mares an understanding that they are safe now, that they are loved and taken care of. The overwhelming aspect of this is that there's so many animals in horrible conditions. Having Hope and Faith is an upfront, closeup, birds-eye view of what people do to animals. My mind swims in madness at the thought of how many animals are (or have) gone through abuse by people. I knew it was out in the world. Now the results of vicious people are something I'm striving to reverse for 2 sweet mares. How many more are out there? Too many is too answer. Literally heartbreaking. Hope and Faith inspire me. Very similar situation with my sweet dog, Sugar. Spirits broken by people with bad behavior. These particular animals on our farm show us resilience and how powerful love is. Love heals.



From horns to hooves

Ahhhh, our little lambs are growing up. They are almost 2 months old now and getting so big. We are beginning to wean Cricket and Bandit from the bottle. Currently, we are down to 2 bottles a day (sometimes 1) with only a couple of ounces of formula in them.

At the beginning...........
Keeping track, with midnight feedings included

Now, this is more like it. **We actually will give
about 1-2 ounces at evening feeding time,
to help settle their little souls for the night.

Udder Dispair

Both the orphans crave the bottle and cry for it, just like a baby would. The cry from Cricket is deep and long. The cry from Bandit is one of begging and pleading like a child in a candy store. Please, please, please. And it doesn't stop. Both Cricket and Bandit will hear David's voice and become fixated on where he is, is he coming, and does he have a bottle. It's a swirling concoction of need, want and where's-my-lamb-dad all wrapped up in panic and frantic hurry-up feelings.

We are starting to replace the bottle feedings with petting sessions. Love instead of drugs, I mean bottles. So there's extra petting going on to satisfy their maternal needs. We are 2 months into this now, and they will need to be completely weaned by 3 months for sure. That's when we will sell some of the lambs, and keep some - and bottle season will cease, just like that. Like so, like that.

Ruminate on this

As the lamb's rumens start operating with more forbes/grass and less mamas milk, I see them chewing their cud. Their little mouths seem like they are full of chewing gum. No bubbles, just chewing and chewing, staring off into space all while enjoying their life. Matchy, matchy they all sit next to their mamas and chew. Bandit and Cricket sit together and chew, almost as if they have been doing it since forever.

And now, the other lambs have become curious about the special attention that Bandit and Cricket get.

From l to r: Bo-Skeeter, Cricket, Bandit,
Shane and Brooklyn (Mama Grace in foreground)

We are blessed that all the lambs will allow us to touch and pet them. I'm been thinking about the next lambing season, and decided that I'm going to require all pregnant ewes to complete this just before they give birth. Almost like a birthing plan:

This will make things so much easier. 

Yep, I said "next lambing season". We will wait a year to let these little ones grow up, and then buy a new ram for all the ewes at that time. David has already named this new ram: Tres (or Trey for short). He will be our 3rd official ram who will provide lambs to the ewes. This is a ways off, but we are planners. That's funny, just kidding, we are not planners like that. We pretend to be. We try to be planners. That's a whole 'nother blog post. How the Graves Farm plans and implements projects, lambing, etc. Let's just say there's a lot of design, then design again. As you know from a previous blogpost on design, we really do try to get it right the first time. Sometimes we do, and most of the time we don't. But we try. And then try again. Backwards is often how we move forward.

As I close for now, if there are any questions you have, Ask Away. I'll do my best to answer. As a side note, we've had some chicken changes again (additions, that is) and I'll save that for next time. I have a feeling by then, there will be more changes as I'm planning on selling a few of the silkie babies we hatched. They are ready to rock and roll.


Shine bright,

Cyndi

When life gives you lemons, add sugar

Like so, like that

It's taken me awhile to acknowledge (to myself) that I have actual farm chores to do everyday. It's been four years now, and I'm finally able to say "I have morning chores" and "I have evening chores".  Why is that, you ask? Because it's never seemed like work to me, and still doesn't actually. I like doing each activity for each animal. Feeding, cleaning, sweeping, filling water buckets, plus a thousand other things. But chores? Okay, maybe they are chores. The word "chore" makes it sound way worse than it really is. I'm coming around to using the term chore, and have begun to embrace it.
Lately, while on friends - and other people's property (for various reasons I'll explain) I've heard the word 'chore' mentioned. It really does sum up what I do every day. My daily chores.


It all started

While glancing at Craigslist recently, I found a saddle barrel that I liked. I've been looking for something more permanent to place my saddle on, now that I'm not actually using it on a horse. I wanted to keep the saddle, and place it on something whereby children who visit, can hop up on it and see what that feels like to be on a saddle, but just not necessarily on a horse. Then, while on Craigslist, I also found a 6 month old female guard dog. I had recently made a proposition to David in regards to moving the sheep/lambs to the front pasture (up by the pond), but that we would really need a different guard dog (besides our Whisper and Levi) to be with the sheep/lambs there, for a possible long term placement of the sheep. For some reason, this particular female guard dog on Craigslist jumped out at me.
Now, first things first. BOTH of these (saddle barrel and guard dog) are anywhere from 30-60 miles away. I figured if we made a big circle, we could arrange a pickup of both, in one fail swoop. After David's stamp of approval, we decided to move forward and go out on an adventure. Let's keep it exciting and take the '68 Chevy AND let's do this on the 4th of July evening.
Arrangements are made with the sellers, and off we go.

Sugar and Maybe are ready
for their July 4th evening adventure!

Buckle up, Buttercup! First, let go to Gober, Tx. Where's that? I don't know, but luckily my GPS on my phone knew how to get there, along with texted instructions from the seller, once we were 'close'. You know: Turn by the first tree, go the the Gober Post Office and take a left, then turn right at the second street, and we are the second mail box on the left. Geez. Almost 60 miles later, in our Chevy truck, no A/C and bumpy ride, we roll up to our first stop to pick up the 6 month old guard dog. Her name was Esther, but we renamed her Lucy. We loaded her up from a goat farm (where she was currently guarding a pen of goats) and placed her in a crate in the back of the truck. It would be a loud (truck noise and fireworks going off in neighboring areas) and hot ride home for us all. But wait, we still have another stop! Let's dart over to Whitewright, to pick up a saddle barrel from a guy at a sheep farm out there. 30 miles later (sorta towards back home) we pull into a property and load up a saddle barrel in the back bed of the truck, along with Lucy in her crate. To help set the tone for this trip a little better, imagine driving along screaming directions to David over the loud engine and wind noise all while trying to not create more/extra miles and give wrong directions while out in the country on roads that I have no idea about. David made all the right turns, and after picking up our two purchases, we moseyed back home jiggly jig, almost 3 hours later. This all included drive time, purchases, and visiting with the new people we met along the way (who, by the way, both made mention about just finishing their evening chores). I feel you, my friends.
Now, we drive home in the dark. We can hear and see the fireworks from people in the country, and then the towns started their own fireworks show(s) all around us. It was a beautiful and splendid way to spend the evening together. It was our 4th of July Adventure.

The saddle barrel is exactly what I was looking for.

And this young lady Lucy was just what I was looking for too. She is our new guard dog for the sheep, Lucy Lou. Even though she's only about 6 months old, she's doing a wonderful job. Levi and Whisper are her back-up for now. I have a feeling she won't need them for long. Between her instincts and personality, she's shaping up to be an intregal part of the Graves Farm. The best part? She's not eaten one single chicken or duck. (My worst fear with any dog on the property). I'm going to put this out there: I think she's not going to be a chicken eater (unlike our last attempt at getting new guard dogs).

A wink and a smile

Fist bump

Nice work, Graves. Now, all the sheep are up in the front pasture by the pond, with Lucy near them at all times. They have fresh water we provide for them and/or they can drink out of the pond which is much needed with this extreme heat.

Let's see how big they've grown:

We are still feeding Bandit and Cricket their milk with a bottle about 3 times a day (sometimes 4) all while we go up there to collect duck eggs, check their water and see how everyone is doing in this heat. They are doing great, and the lambs are all learning to graze like the mamas do. None of the lambs will be completely weaned from milk until they are closer to 3 months old.

Lucy considers the sheep/lambs her very own

Orphans Bandit and Cricket laying with
Mama Lulu, Willow and Oliver

Remind me again why we're doing this

The proposed concept to move the sheep to the front pasture was due to several reasons. First, Bandit and Cricket were spending more time with us than with the sheep. This is problematic in the long run. Both those sweet lambs can go through all the "chicken holes" to get in and out of the places that lambs aren't supposed to be, and would find their way to us. I get it. We are their mama, yet as they grow older, our goal is to incorporate them with the others. In addition to this, the cleaning of the barn (with more sheep now) was becoming more work than David or I desired, as it was originally designed to hold 3-4 sheep, not 10. The barn/shelter up by the pond is a perfect size for the sheep, lambs and Lucy Lou all without having to clean their living space morning and night (we don't really need more chores). And our last reason for moving them to a more contained space and all together? Less grazing availability. The mama ewes are getting too big with all the availability of forbes and grass, therefore we must decrease their food source. And that we did.

How's it working out? Great, so far. We don't know what we don't know, so only experience will teach us if this was a wise decision. They have shelter, water, and a limited food source (vs the unlimited possibilities with too much pasture, as they previously had). They also have Lucy. Lucy will take time to get up to speed on it all, but her potential is there. She's young, yet attentive. She's shy, yet loyal. She's finding her voice, learning from Levi and Whisper, and most importantly she's not interested in fowl. That means she gets to stay.


That's not good

Speaking of adventures, anytime you drive your classic car around it's an adventure. We enjoy it, others enjoy seeing old cars and trucks, and it's all-around a fun time. Classic cars create conversation wherever you go. People reminisce, they want to look at the engine and take it all in. I occasionally drive it to work, and on this particular day, it was no different.

Cue the dream sequence music. It was a beautiful morning and I hopped in our '68 Chevy C-10 Shortbed and headed up to work in Celina. Not far, only about 10 or 11 miles. It's Friday and although typically a busy day in clinic along with the triage calls, it goes by quite fast. Lunch time arrives and I'm driving the truck to a local feed store for a couple of square bales of coastal hay and some chicken feed, please. Thank you and I'm heading back to work for the afternoon. I pull into the parking lot and turn the truck off. Oh! I think I'll move the truck to that shady place over there, under the tree to keep the hay and feed in the bed of the truck a little cooler in the shade during this hot afternoon. I start the truck back up and immediately noticed orange flames coming from the engine. Uh, my truck is on fire. As soon as that thought hit my brain, the truck dies and now there's smoke from the hood. I know it's on fire, as there's a little fancy grill in the hood of the truck that faces the cab, and I can see the flames.

Stay calm. Turn the key off and get out of the truck, I tell myself. Without hesitation, I dial 911. There's cars parked around me, and what if my truck catches them on fire? What a mess. 911 dispatch tells me that the fire dept is on the way. People are starting to come out of their businesses and stare. I'm not quite sure what to do in this time of limbo, but the 911 operator told me to keep everyone away from the truck, and I do that. Then, I notice that at the Brookshire's Grocery store next door that a fire dept utility truck is there, as the Celina Fire Dept shops locally at this grocery store. I run over there, but to my dismay, they are not in the truck and are inside the grocery store. I run back to my flaming truck and keep everyone away. That's my job. Then, the fire dept guys come out of the grocery store and see the smoke. They grab their fire extinguishers and run to my truck, trying to find the hood latch in the cab. No, I tell them, it only opens from the front of the hood! There's no latch in the cab to open the hood. I did at least know better than to open the hood, as I've heard the intake of oxygen could cause the fire to engulf when the hood is opened. The fire dept was ready though. They've probably completed this drill a million times. They whisked into action and got things under control. Now the engine is merely simmering and smoldering. Great, I'm going to need a ride home.

While all this happening, the fire dept is asking me questions, taking information from me, and asking me more questions all while I'm grateful no one was hurt. No one else's car caught fire. This is all that mattered.

Once the fire dept got everything under control and the fire was out, they begin their process of packing up their things and leaving one vehicle by one vehicle. The last firefighter, while in his vehicle, kindly pulled up next to me as I stood in the middle of the parking lot staring at the truck and said, "Do you have a ride home or someone to call?" Why yes I do, thanks for asking, I tell him. This is the exact moment David has driven up in his car to find this hubbub settling down. I tell the firefighter I must go. I've got to run, as that's my husband, as in run-away run. That, or I need to jump in the back of your truck and hide. He thought it was funny, but he wasn't sure if I was serious or not. Away he drove, quickly.

David had arrived up at my work, as I had texted him a picture of the truck's engine on fire. He was incidentally driving back from being at his work office for the morning (which almost never happens these days) and was heading back to the house. What great timing he had, for real. He missed all the fire action, but since my work location is exactly on his path back home, all he had to do was pull into the parking lot. There we were, hugging each other in the middle of the parking lot, grateful no one was hurt. You can always get more money and material things, but you can't get a re-do on human life.

It could have been far worse.
Thank you, Celina Fire Dept!

Detail, details. David goes back home for the afternoon workday, I go back into my office for my afternoon workday. We will finish out our work this Friday afternoon. I call a tow truck. They come and get the truck. It gets settled into our favorite classic car auto shop. They are as shocked about it all as we were. David picks me up once the work day is done and we stare at each other. Wonder how this is all going to turn out. We have insurance, but what does that really mean with a classic car? I only know I'll be learning new things from this particular situation.


But what about the hay

Oh yeah, that. Would you believe that the classic car auto shop is in Gunter? It is. So we simply tootled up that next morning and picked the hay up from the back of the truck and took it back home, jiggity jig.

Toddling up to get the hay

And back home

Keep on keeping on,

Cyndi

It's fine, it's fine, everything is fine (is it?)

Can I have, please

Have you ever been out on a evening walk, enjoying the sunset, making your way back to the house and then all of a sudden a black duck walks by? Of course, immediately we were mesmerized. Our domestic, non-flying white ducks are common at ponds and lakes. But this black one was special. It was David that noticed it first. The people living there were sitting out in their yard, and David proceeded to holler over to them 'where they had bought the black duck'. It was so shiny and elegant. They replied that they had bought their recent new chickens and ducks at a feed store in Gainesville. Thanks, we bounced back. All while thinking 'we'll need to go and investigate this sometime'.

Then, it happened. The couple asked if we wanted the black duck. Uh, hum. Do we want their black duck? They proceed to tell us they bought it as a duckling, and have no place there for grown ducks. Again, uh, hum. Well, uh, I don't know. It's so sudden. Please, they ask us, we can't really keep it. Uh, okay. Okay, we'll take the black duck. Instantly, they had it caught and brought it over to us. Handing it to me, I begin to hand carry a duck back home. It cried and cried the whole way back home.

Why is it crying like that? Because it's other duck friend was left behind. It had a duck-mate who was a white duck (like all the others we have at our pond). Turns out, the white-duck-left-behind was quacking so incessantly that the couple got in their car and drove their ever-quacking white duck towards where we had walked - which was home. They spotted us as we were walking down the gravel drive and proceeded to drive up behind us, white duck in tow.

Here! They say, please take this duck too, as the black and white ducks are bonded, and we really can't keep either one. Huh? This is quack. What is going on here? To make things even odder, their daughter is a witness to this, and is crying as her parents are giving her ducks away. We stand there duck-founded.

I attempted to console the little girl by bartering two of my silkie chicks (once feathered) for her two ducks. She really liked that idea, and a deal was made. Let's Make A Deal is alive and well on Little Elm Creek Rd.

We visit a minute longer with the nice family, all while acquiring two new ducks on an evening walk, and they leave and go back home. We end up adding these two ducks in the mix to our existing 12 ducks and they are petrified. Bonnie and Clyde (they came with names) took about 1 week to be accepted into the crew at our pond. But they are in like flynn now, and everyone in our duck world is happy happy happy.

Unsure, and having never stepped webbed foot in water before, they eventually acclimate. Now, they are part of the whole shebang, swimming and becoming a part of the flock. Aunt Meanie (head duck) chased them away at first, but she came around and placed them under her wing. Bonnie and Clyde are much younger, but have adjusted to the pond life. They are figuring out where the food bins are and swimming like a pro. Welcome! Careful what you ask about next time your on a walk.



Once upon a time there was a girl who really loved chickens. It was Me. The End.

Ideal 236.
For real, it's the name of these chickens.

Even though it's hard to see in this pic, our Ideal 236's are doing great. We have 4 of them, and they are growing into beautiful chickens (think snow white with a few black dots, and a beautiful fan tail). They have been living in the Guest House and are starting to incorporate with the rest of the flock. They will be shaking their tail feathers in no time, and will most certainly win the Coveted Tail Feather contest.

Currently, under the spell of chicken math, I am unable to report the number of chickens I have. I'll count soon. I'm thinking the number is around 48 (past crazy), which includes the above 4 chicks and an additional 8 silkie chicks. (** Granted, I have sold 7 of the silkie chicks who will rehome once they are feathered, so my actual number will come down to 41). And I have to consider that I started out with 6 Turkens, losing 2 and having 2 of them turn out to be roosters. I need to restock on Chicken Luck. My numbers are changing faster than you can google Chicken Luck.

And add in this mix that we are watching our sweet, sweet Ginger girl make her slow climb to heaven.

Ginger (l) and Butterscotch (r)
They were so young back then.

She, along with Butterscotch (RIP) were our first chickens. Our first chicken crush. Our first flock leader and still the matriarch of the flock. She was a kind and good leader, with nothing but love for everyone. After recently losing Goldie to old age, we now watch Ginger follow in the footsteps of geriatric chickening. It's hard to watch them turn a corner, then another, and then the final corner before their beautiful souls leave their worn and tired bodies. We continue to love her, feed and water her to the best of our abilities, and tell her what a magnificent girl she is. Sounds silly, yet it's very cathartic. Thank you, Ginger for being so very faithful to those around you. You're my girl. As you step to the side, we see Poppy stepping up. A cinnamon queen with all the qualities you would respect. Poppy will be there at the front of the flock, eyes fixated on me, asking to be picked up and loved. Asking for a friend to have more mealworms. She will carry on your legacy. It's hard to lose the flock leader, as they set the tone for your girls. Poppy will carry on for you.

Poppy
Always by my side.
Always at the front of the flock.

Sheepishly Me  

Lamb Dad has been happily living his Good Shepherd life. Our seven lambs are all about 4-5 weeks old. Bo-Skeeter (Belle's boy) is by far the biggest and most social (besides Cricket and Bandit, of course). He's happy to come greet you and say Hi. Love him! His sister Cricket is his best buddy, although no one is as tight as Cricket and Bandit. Willow and Oliver are the quiet siblings, flying under the radar. Willow lives up to her name, so thin, tall and dainty. Shane and Brooklyn are healthy, fun-loving lambs who enjoy group play time. Bandit is beginning to incorporate himself in with the whole crew. We couldn't ask for healthier and happier lambs.

Bell and Lulu with their twins.
Granted, Belle does not feed Cricket,
but they all still gather together. 

Cricket and Bandit are still being bottle fed and doing very well. They hang out with the flock in the pasture sometimes, and are learning to graze. It's important that they know what it's like in the real world. I mean, real pasture. The bottle won't be there forever. Yet, it's the lovin' from their Lamb Dad after their bottle that they live for.

Cricket is a stealer.
If a mama is not paying close attention,
Cricket has a quick drinkie drink.

Needless to say, both bottle babies are well loved and well fed. We enjoy watching the lambs grow, play, learn and frolic. They each have a very distinctive personality and it's hard to believe we will sell some of them. They are so innocent. I mean, it's what farmers and ranchers do, right, sell their farm animals, have more, and sell them, and so on and so on? It's all so hard on my heart.


Heart Stings are pulling

Speaking of baby's, October will be a busy, exciting and life changing month. Lauren is expecting, and will be having a baby boy in only 3 1/2 months (give or take a week). It was only yesterday I gave birth to her.

Lauren and BFF, Kyle

And now look....

Same girl,
different glasses.

How does this happen? Where does all this time go? Is it out in space somewhere, is it in a black hole swirling around? The time is just gone. Luckily, the memories are all inside my head and I can relive them anytime. And yes, I do often.
My little Lolo is going to have a little one of her very own. We are excited beyond words. The wonderment and anticipation is vibrating on a high level about now. We'll be right here waiting for you.
Our little Tula Tot is waiting for you, too. She has no idea what's about to happen. She's too busy swimming.

And smelling lamb bottoms, and playing with her toys, and living her best life - that's about to get even better with a brother.



Supersize me Jesus.

I'm going to change modes for a minute. The continuation of the COVID pandemic has me thinking. It has us all thinking. Recently, while listening to a Joel Olsten podcast I was reminded how God meets us at our level of expectations. It was an ah-ha moment for me. I've dreamt big in my life, while other times I tend to lay low. I've realized my dreams and I've spent time merely dreaming. Having been on both sides of the dream coin, I liked the friendly reminder to consider raising my expectations. If God meets me at my expectations, yes please, I'd like to supersize them. Every now and again, a reminder like this spurs my curiosity and inner child. What am I dreaming of? What can I do to inspire others to actualize their dreams? It's during these pandemic days that I continue to believe all things are possible. This new way of living is different, and different does not mean it's bad. It's just different. Different is good, too. So, I've had to start thinking very differently. At first, I didn't really think differently because I was sure the world was going to bounce back, and we'd resettle in as we "once were". No. I certainly do not think that anymore.

So as I've adjusted to life in this pandemic (as we all are attempting to do), I've noticed this has impacted my goals and dreams in life. We can't do all the things we once could, as it's just not safe. I, like you, want to stay safe and keep others safe at the same time. We all want to still dream and realize our dreams. AND we want this for everyone, all while re-learning ways to make sure that happens. This is not just about a pandemic. It's so much more, like reading and understanding the importance of Black Lives Matters. Thank you, Black Lives Matter for all you do and waking everyone up, including myself.





I realize that even though I don't always know the right words or proper way to express my support for Black Lives Matter, I do know that trying is what I want and need to do. Asking questions, reading, learning and speaking up. Self awareness to this is Step 1. Step 2 is to move out into the world in it. As awkward and uncomfortable as it may be to understand how I can play a positive and productive part in this shift, that's how we will get there. Starting - and being a voice. I'm so grateful we are at a place in this life where equality is the focus. A corner has been turned, with many more corners to turn. I'm excited for what's around the corner, as people will be given the peace all people deserve. The peace to live life safely and justly.



Be patient and faithful where you are,

Cyndi

UPDATE As The Farm Turns Some More

Ewe did it

The lambing is now complete, and the dust has settled. In order of birth:

Lulu - Oliver and Willow
Licorice - Bandit
Belle - Bo Skeeter and Cricket
Grace - Shane and Brooklyn

4 ewes blessed the world (and our little farm) with 7 lambs. Sheep math tells me that's 11 total, with 4 boys (who will be sold, except for Bandit) and 3 girls (which we will likely keep). Why, you ask?


Sheriff says.....

There are only a few rules the Sheriff tries to uphold around here: 1) No cats inside. *Since we have a sick barn cat, she gets a 'pass' to live in the house until we can get her more stable, 2) No roosters. *Since we do happen to have a silkie rooster, we agreed that would be the only rooster and would use him to breed silkie chickens. He would not be allowed to roam amongst the hens, who lay the eggs that we sell, 3) No long-term rams (male sheep). Once we "use" a ram to impregnate our ewes, we sell him. Otherwise, the rams will literally ram us, and this becomes a dangerous situation to be in the pasture. No bueno. *The exception for this rule will be Bandit, who will be fixed and become our first sheep wether, 4) No biting and/or spitting animals. *Okay, we have a biting animal. I'll explain that later.

As you can tell, the * reflects the exceptions to the Sheriff's rules. We probably have other informal rules, and many of the rules are really just guidelines we try to follow. They go something like this:

If you crow, you gotta go.
If there's a scrotum, you've gotta load'em.
If you're X and Y, you gotta fly.

You get the idea. The fact is (for us, anyway) that female farm animals are easier to care for than males. Rude. So yes, we tend to have a predominantly female population, with the males being an exception only occasionally. I could expound on this no-males-on-the-farm-thing more, but will sum it up by saying things get ugly when I  forget to keep my mouth shut. There, I did it. Mouth shut.


Where were we?

We were talking sheep and lambs, and who we'll keep, and who we will sell. Our Keep Stack looks to be: Belle (always and forever), Lulu, Willow, Cricket (Lamb Dad's true child), Bandit (to be wethered) and of course Little Brooklyn. Our Sell Stack will likely be: Bo-Skeeter (who seems to be full grown already), Shane, Oliver and maybe, just maybe will may sell Grace. This is all tentative at this point. We will see as time unfolds, as nobody is really weaned until closer to 3 months old.


Wait, where Licorice's name in all this

It's with deep sadness that Licorice has passed away. From the day she had sweet Bandit, something was wrong with her physically. She would not pass her placenta, she was lethargic, and generally did not feel well. With at least 3 Vet visits, medications and uterine lavage, Licorice was not able to survive despite all the efforts to save her. The one legacy Licorice leaves behind is Bandit. Although never feeling well, she fed and nurtured him for almost 7 days. It was on that 7th day that Bandit had to be taken away from Licorice, so she could try and make it - and give him a chance at life as well. Turns out, her milk had started drying up (either that or she had mastitis) and Bandit was becoming vocal with his hunger. We knew we had to take him, and place him with Cricket to be bottle fed. He took to the bottle right away, as he was so very hungry. Within 24 hours, Licorice was gone. She was laying out under a tree by the pond, and peacefully left this earth. It was heartbreaking. Her kind and docile nature will be so very missed. She was truly one of a kind. It was as if she knew her name, and would run to us when we called her. In our sadness, we have embraced her black, silkie-smooth haired, and ever-so-kind Bandit boy. He's her mini-her in boy form. He will be the first boy lamb we keep long term on the farm. The Vet says if we "fix him" at around 3 months, he will be a pet sheep that will mingle with the other ewes. Bandit is the exception to the rule around here.

These two

How's that working out?

With 2 bottle baby lambs now (Cricket and Bandit), it's like having 2 toddlers living outside wreaking havoc. Granted, they are very sweet and gentle, just very needy. They want to be held, loved and nurtured as each of their mama's would have done for them. Instead, this all comes from us. David and I are all-in for this endeavor. Actually, we love it!

There's a feeding schedule on the counter in the kitchen, bottles to me made, and formula to be mixed. The decision was made to keep Cricket and Bandit outside in a place of their own. Therefore, we moved Cricket out of the house, and the two bottle babies became bunk mates.

These two sweet thangs are loving their new life. They have bonded beyond belief. They do run with the whole lamb crew several times a day in the pasture, but then also prefer to be in their own space inside the "front yard" near the house.

Even in the pasture,
they stay close to
one another.

As the lambs grow, we are realistic knowing that since there's 2 to feed, we will need to implement something in place to help automate this process.

We will incorporate this new feeder to help assist with the feedings. Weaning for all the lambs will occur by the age of (approx) 3 months. We have a buyer for our sheep already, so will make that call when the time comes.


Change is in the air

There are times we (I) ignore the rules and things go poorly. Case in point? Diego.

Diego - Beautiful boy

If he were a man, his dating profile would go something like this:

"Handsome, social guy with hair that girls are jealous of, looking for someone who loves nibbles and nudges. Slim and trim with a shiny sheen, who looks to enjoy the company of a companion that enjoys close talking. Pearly teeth with surprise biting that keeps things exciting. Accidental love bites may happen, with particular fondness for fingers and ears. Does not do well with children. Call me."

Diego is the first one to come say Hi. He's the first one to make you think he's going to be friendly. He's the first one to bite you, and take a finger straight off your hand. He'll try it right through the fence. No one is safe in regards to this. We've even tried providing toys for him to play with, teething things, attention, and a myriad of other suggestions given to us regarding his problem. No resolution.

As you can imagine, with the number of children - and people in general - who visit us, this is not acceptable. We've made the decision to sell Diego. We will keep his mama, Dora, as well as Hope and Faith. Only Diego, the one and only male of the group, is heading out. It could be a control or dominance thing, but either way, Diego will be needing to find another home as we feel it's too dangerous for us to keep him. I have to be able to admit I'm not able to handle this situation, and make a change to it.

I fixed him all up (brushed him, haltered him) and had him ready for the trip to the auction.

It's our first time to attend a livestock auction. We have a friend (or two) who sells their farm animals there. And now, we will attempt this with Diego. So, on a hot and sunny Friday afternoon, David and Ed (family friend) loaded him up in a trailer and drove him there in preparation for the Saturday sale. As I type this, I actually have a lump in my throat. It's a visceral reaction to this whole process. I know I need to do this, yet it's not what I want to do.

UPDATE: It was Friday afternoon at 2 pm that David and friend, Ed loaded Diego into a horse trailer (thank you, Ed!). They drove 1 1/2 hour to Emory to drop Diego off for the Saturday auction. David said it was a drive-through drop off. A man with barley recognizable questions rolls through his quiz: Stud, gelding? Rider? David said there were some questions he did not understand, and when asked to have it repeated, it was again not understood. Nonetheless, David persevered. As soon as it started, it was over. Diego was in a stall and would await his next home. The auction was asking spectators to not attend due to COVID, and only serious buyers should attend. Therefore, we did not end up going back on Saturday to attend the auction, as we were unlikely to be buying.

Now you ask, how much did he sell for? Good question! We will not know until we get a check in the mail. Hard to say. We all had our guesses. I'll keep you posted. I'll miss him, but I can now feed the horses without incident. It's a first for me, and my 3 mares are reaping the benefits of more attention.


Less of a mess now

With my 3 (mare) mini horses, I will now focus on working with them, without the surprise biting incidents (it wasn't always a surprise, actually). I need to work with my two rescue girls Hope and Faith in a calm and serene place. Dora loves it nice and calm, too. I'm going to try and provide a relaxing environment for 3 girls who deserve to be safe and secure, esp after a life of abuse for Hope and Faith. I'll continue to work on showing them people aren't so bad after all. It's going to take time.

Faith

Hope

Dora

Let's unpack this

Change is the mainstay around here, esp when we are talking birthing lambs, having chicks and rightsizing a farm that accommodates regular visitors. We are busy cultivating love, hope, life lessons and doing everything at times.....but farming. I've learned that that's okay. I heard a term recently that said it all: Lifesteading. That's exactly what we are doing. Lifesteading on our Homestead.



How's the chicks, man

Good question!

The silkie chicks have hatched, and we have an abundance of silkie love around here.

So tiny

And additional gift we received was 1 little lavender splash chick. 1 out of 12 chicks. And of course, her name is Blossom, again. This time around we have the privilege of seeing her grow up, and as usual, we cherish her uniqueness. They are all gifts from God, and we adore them. Having a silkie farm is 1) a surprise, and 2) an adjustment. We will need to sell some of the chicks, as the silkie breed appears to be very prolific around here. Here's hoping Blossom is a girl!

Blossom, Chompchi (mama) and
Post (daddy, in background)

Every little thing will be okay

It will. We are fortunate our 3 goats are happy and healthy, our guard dogs are strong, our barn cats keep the mice and snakes away, our chickens lay lots of eggs for the world to enjoy, and we get to be the conductor of this fabulous orchestra. It's not all smooth sailing, but I wouldn't trade any of these experiences. They always prepare me for what's next.

As Lamb Dad and the sheep raise their lambs, as the chicks grow, as the donkeys find contentment in the back pasture close to us, as we encourage Hope and Faith to find trust again, as a barn cat tries to heal, as we assist Dora with a cough, as we sit on the front porch and listen..............we find peace and understanding. Sometimes I pray aloud on the front porch. We do not walk through this alone. We would not be able to do this on our own. It's by God's grace.

We've had loss lately, and immense amounts of love. This is not always easy. As we move through our lives, carrying our own burdens, we call to Him to walk and carry these things with us. Any storms brewing will pass, and dark days do turn to light. Just ask Hope and Faith. There is always light.

Stay strong, my friends,

Cyndi

Serendipity

Once upon a time

There was a once-red-headed man whose wish was to simply lie in a field of little lambs pouncing and playing all around him. As fate would have it, he would see that day arrive.

There is no better Lamb Dad.
The shirt is accurate.

On this day

It all started on a Friday night not that long ago. One of the first of 4 ewes, all pregnant with lamb(s) went into labor. Her name is Lulu, and her birthing place of choice was in the barn up by the pond. Quiet and exclusively hers, she would birth her babies there. Lulu is the daughter of Belle, and this would be Lulu's first time to give birth. Lulu brilliantly had twins, in a expedient and normal fashion. She had a girl, Willow, who has tiny, curly hair as if someone had given her a perm invitro. Then, she surprised us and had a little boy lamb, Oliver, with white as snow, thick, straight hair.

1 day old

We were instantly in love with the idea that the first lamb(s) born would be twins. The only thing that trumped that was the fact that Lulu accepted them both and begin feeding them both, right away. Side note: Often times ewes will "kick off" one of their twins, as they can be finicky about only accepting and feeding one lamb. Not Lulu! She is a wonderful mama ewe who cradled her twins and instantly made sure they were safe - and fed.

Ewe a tired mama after all that
Friday night excitement.

2 days old and Sugar-Approved

But then one day

Fast forward to Monday morning, 6 am sharp, Licorice has decided it's her turn. The 2nd out of 4 pregnant ewes was ready to deliver. Standing in the middle of the pasture, she has her mini-me little boy lamb, Bandit. What a great way to start the week off!

Licorice and Bandit

After moving Licorice and Bandit to the barn to bond, she begin accepting visitors.

With a strong bond in place, mama and baby boy begin their day in the world. It would be a trecherious start for Licorice. A manic Monday for her we'll say. As the morning moved on and the sun rose high in the sky, Licorice would not be able to pass her placenta. It would require an emergent Vet visit to the farm to conclude that 1) there was not another baby in her belly, and 2) she was retaining a portion of her placenta which would put her at risk for infection. She was given several medications and antibiotics to assist with this situation. Still, the placenta remained hanging from her, with her uterus holding on tightly to it. Another Vet visit was required, as Licorice was not looking good. More antibiotics, more medications and finally we were able to see her slowly turn a corner. There was one night that David and I wondered if she would see it through. After each vet visit, the Vet would leave me with syringes of medication to give at particular times and in particular ways. One would be inter-muscular, one was subcutaneous, and another was to be given orally. This went on for days, but it would save Licorice's life. She's a fighter, and even when she felt her lowest, her very worst, she still fed her baby. Inspiring. We are so grateful she overcame this unusual event. It's not common for this to happen in sheep, from what we were told.

Bandit is one handsome lamb.

I have a question
So I'll pause here a minute and answer your question: Will you keep the boys?

Good question! We have considered "fixing" them and keeping them, but if we are true to how we do things around here, the boys will probably be sold. Luckily, we have more time to mull this over because the Vet recommended if we keep the boys as pets, that they are "fixed" around 3 months old. So we have time.

Now, Lamb Dad is fired up and super excited that the lambs are arriving!



With 2 ewes and 3 lambs later, we are quickly doubling our flock. If Lamb Dad had his way, we would have sheep everywhere, including in the house. Which ironically, is a wish come true. Spoiler alert.


What happens next is

Okay, it's now Wednesday at 4 pm and Lamb Dad looks out the window from his desk/office at home and sees Belle in labor. This is our 3rd ewe, out of 4, to deliver. He promptly runs out, and essentially assists with her delivery. So not only is he a Lamb Dad, but he's a Mid-Lamb-Wife. He gets the towels out there to dry the baby lamb, trying to film the live birth, texting me (as I'm still at work) and panicking all while staying calm. As Belle births her lamb, David is giving a play by play and sending me videos that are illegal on the internet. Graphic lamb videos that should have a censored label on them. He's there for the whole shebang with sweet Belle. Just after he is texting me that "it's all over, and mama and baby are doing well", does another lamb start to arrive. This next lamb is not in the same position as expected as she enters this world, but Belle is able to birth lamb #2 without issue and now Lamb Dad is drying it, and attempting to move Belle and her twins into the barn to give them some bonding time. All the while, I am watching the updates on my phone, and soon head home after work to see the new baby lambs. Once again, the twins are a boy and girl, Cricket and Bo.

This was a live action shot, so not the best pic.
Literally seconds after giving birth to Lamb #2.

Belle, just like her daughter Lulu did with her own twins, allowed both her twins to nurse and take the valuable colostrum needed for lambs to gain nutrients and immunities. This first 24 hours is critical in the life of a lamb.


Lamb Math

As Lulu cares for Willow and Oliver, Licorice is also doing her best to care for Bandit all while fighting what appears to be a uterine infection. Belle now has twins of her own, Cricket and Bo to nurture and feed, bringing our lamb total to 5. Lamb math is a lot more straight forward than chicken math. 4 + 5 = 9 and consider the flock doubled.


Now we wait

Grace is holding strong, with those babies
protruding from her sides.

There's plenty to do while we wait. That's because that very next morning, we find Belle has "kicked off" one of her twins. The girl, Cricket is no longer being fed by Belle. I could try to explain why Belle is refusing to nurse Cricket after 12 hours, and I could make several guesses - some of which could be our fault, the universe's fault, and maybe even Belle's fault. But it's nobody's fault. The bottom line was obvious: Belle is refusing to feed and nurse one of her twins, and now it's up to us to keep this lamb alive.

You might remember we bottle fed Belle, and we also bottle fed Grace - both of whom had mamas that refused to feed them. It happens in the animal world. Now, it's Cricket's turn to learn to drink from a bottle after 12 hours of being nursed by Belle. That's the tricky part, is the transition. Add to it, that Cricket still needs 12 more hours of colostrum.


But do you have these things

Between Tractor Supply and The Dollar Store, they have everything you need to feed a 1/2 day old baby lamb. Since we knew the sheep were going to lamb soon, we had already bought bottles, nipples, colostrum and lamb formula. And don't forget the diapers, because a lamb inside the house will poop and pee at the most unexpected times. Since all this was already at the house, the bottle making started. It's like riding a bike, you don't forget how to do this. The desire to keep a baby animal alive is intense. Welcome, Cricket to the house where dogs are your sisters now, the bottle of formula will sustain you, and the bonding will be with people - and not sheep. Specifically, Lamb Dad.



Cricket allows anyone to feed her, which is a wonderful thing. Lauren gets some practice in giving a bottle, and has 4 more months until she gets to do this all the time. David gets his fair-share of bottle feeding!


And so it begins

While all the lambs are with their mamas, Cricket is with her Lamb Dad. Since David works from home, he's the primary caretaker of Cricket. Those two are connected with a tiny string from his heart to hers. They call for each other, and have become one. His eyes are little hearts, and he'll never be the same. They are gifts to each other, filling voids, generating love, and shining their light on one another. They are inseparable.

He is her person

If Lamb Dad goes to shower,
she waits near his work chair.

After all, she is included in his conference calls......diaper and all.

She contributes very little to the work flow - except for a heaping amount of cuteness.

Her entire life is based around finding and being with Lamb Dad.

Until finally......


Grace decides it's her turn. 4th of 4 ewes. Last one to the party. Finally going to let those baby lambs out. And Grace does so in the middle of the pasture at 6 am on Monday morning.

Bonding time this morning,
just after giving birth.

What a great way to start the week - deja vu. Grace, like Lulu, does an emaculate job at cleaning her lambs, and allowing both to nurse. She's the finale, the last hooray in these lambing events. And she put on a spectacular show!

Now, the circle is complete. Within a little more than a week, all ewes have delivered their lambs.


And they live happily ever after

Lulu, Oliver and Willow 

Licorice and Bandit

Belle and Bo

Grace and her twins
(names forthcoming)

Lamb Dad and Cricket

And ever since then

4 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 2 =  11 sheep/lambs

4 boys and 3 girl lambs

Our flock has grown, and this makes The Shepherd a very happy Lamb Dad. He can now lay in the field, amongst all the lambs who frolic and play. And, he has one of his very own. Dreams do come true.


The End



Now, boys and girls, that's our story for today. But stay tuned, as there's more stories to come. We'll need to see what it's like to live in a house with a lamb.....

Do others share well?

Are trash cans knocked over?

Does she sleep all night? Does she always wear a diaper? Does she get to go outside and play with her friends? Does she chase chickens? Does Lamb Dad ever get any sleep?


To be continued.......

Cyndi