Signs of Spring Maybe

Signs of Spring Maybe Usually my first thought of spring comes with the robins. Might be too early for them to show up though. I suppose they're held up somewhere south by the Missouri snowstorms. However, I've been paying attention to other signs right here at home. Two weeks ago one evening after dark, I looked out the window and noted the Case tractor in the machine shed was glowing in the dark. It might have been the way the yard light on the barn shone on it. So I poked my head out the back door for another look. The west end of the machine shed was lit up all right, but no way was I going to tread through ice and snow in the dark to turn of a light when I knew I'd come face to face with a raccoon. The next morning when I turned off the light, one of the two wild hens who spent the winter in the machine shed was missing. That night the machine shed was lit up again. The next morning the other wild hen was gone, and both ends of the machine shed was lit up this time. I knew the reason was a wiley raccoon. He left tracks in the mud the size of a dog. He weighed almost as much as a dog, too. I'd say his eyesight and smell were failing him if he needed the lights on to catch the hens. Yesterday I noticed seven eagles in the cornfield across the road. They always show up in February, and each year the number of the flock increases. They spend a month or so in a small timber by us and go on to one of the rivers to nest and fish for food. The flock looked to be in a conference about how to get a chicken or one of my cats. They may have already had a rabbit dinner. The two rabbits I've seen scampering around here haven't been sighted for a few days. Not that it bothers me. The rabbits can eat their weight in garden plants and then some. Three days ago I let the chickens loose. They didn't care about the strong north wind, and that it was cold underfoot. Freedom felt good after being shut up since October. I've found they have good memories. Odd Man rooster headed for the barn, ready to go to his second home. I had the doors shut so he went on a sit down strike in front of the walk in door. He crowed for hens to join him. None did so he sat all day with a cold north wind ruffling his feathers as he stared wistfully at the door and crowded for me to open it up. At dusk, I shut the chicken house door and thought Odd Man went in. Next morning there he was just after sunrise, stubbornly doing his sit down strike again in front of the barn door. I don't what snow bank he hid behind, but he'd hid out. I was determined he wasn't going to be a raccoon's meal so I didn't open the barn door. That evening I didn't see Odd Man anywhere. Before I shut the chicken house door I peeked in. Odd Man was close to the door as if he might bale out if one of the roosters gave him a hard time. Two nights of being outside was enough. I felt as if we'd played a game of chicken for two days, and I won. Yesterday afternoon. was the goat revolt. I was about to leave home when I looked out the west window. All eleven head of goats were grazing by the garden. They had been shut in the barn for months. When Oliver Billy decides he has had enough of being closed in by four walls, he does something about it. This wasn't his first escape. He'd butted the roll door until he could squeeze though a crack, and every nanny followed him. I have wanted to let them go, but right now there is an ice berg in the gate hole, and the gate is open. The snow was supposed to blow on through and across the lot. That didn't happen. The goats came over the drift and were free, proving they always find an open gate hole. I picked up a two gallon pail I keep on the porch and walked outside where they could see me, calling, "Come on." The herd came running, but would only go over the icy mound if I went first so I walked them back to the barn and shut them in. I knew that wouldn't work for long so I improvised by using what I could find to close the gate hole. Note the picture and realize I'm not an experienced fence maker. Don't laugh until you had to get in a billy and his nannies.

Just as I was leaving for the third time to get the plywood, one of the nannies squeezed out the roll door again. She ran to me and followed me. I knew if I didn't hurry I'd have to get the other ten in again. Once I had the plywood in place, I opened the roll door and let the goats go. Even the freedom to roam where they live didn't satisfy Oliver Billy. He nosed my fence and butted the plywood to see if it would fall over. I popped him on the head with my pail. He got the message for the moment and backed up to follow the nannies to graze in the hay field.

What I found this morning was Oliver's message about my gate. He knocked the plywood down and went back to the barn to wait for to be fed. Just proves to me, I'm never going to win playing a game of chicken with him. Tomorrow is to be a warm spring day. Hopefully, the ice berg melts fast or softens up so I can shovel out enough of it to close the gate. If not, I'm going to be chasing goats daily and even in my dreams. If these are signs of spring, I'd rather go back to the tried and true signs like robins and morel mushrooms. The story I just posted about signs of spring is one of the many experiences that I've had taking care of animals. These real life experiences are what I use in my Nurse Hal Among The Amish series by Fay Risner. Nurse Hal has had many livestock related incidents that actually happened to me first. Want to read any of the Nurse Hal series and try to pick out what really happened to me first? Starting March 1st for a week my ebooks are going to be on sale for half price at smashwords.com.

Meet Curious Cat - continued

My cats are barn cats, very independent and usually appear for food, stand back until I feed them and then dig in. In no time, they disappear again. Curious Cat is different from the rest of the pack. My first sight of her last spring was when I headed for the chicken room in the loft. I reached the top of the stairs and saw the long haired, gray mother cat stretched out on the floor letting five kittens nurse. One a long haired gray like Mama, two black and whites, a dark gray and a long haired black kitten. I exclaimed to the alert mama that they were a pretty bunch. The sound of my voice sent the kittens racing to wedge themselves in a space behind two hay bales. All but one that is. One of the black and white kittens came toward me. I'm guessing they were two weeks old since they had lost the wobbly gait of newborns. I picked the kitten up and patted her, wondering why she was so friendly, and she began to purr. It's not usual to find a kitten that small that will take up with people. Usually, they hiss, spat and growl to keep people way from them. It occurred to me this kitten should be doing just that. She needed to be cautious if she was to make it to a adult cat. I took her to the spot I saw the others head and sat her down with them, hoping the hissing and spatting her siblings aimed at me taught the kitten what to do. A couple weeks later, the kittens were out of the loft and exploring the barn. Dangers were many in the barn such as wild animals after the cat food and stray tom cats. I spoke to the kittens. They scattered for cover all except the black and white kitten. She came to me. As I patted her, I heard a ruckus at the foot of the loft stairs. A grumpy, sitting hen came from the loft after some food and water. The long haired black kitten ran over her feet in his haste to hide. She mistook him for a rat and before I got to them the kitten was a goner. Lesson number one for the other four kittens. Grumpy sitting hens have the right to be irritable. They lay eggs for three weeks and spend three more weeks sitting on their eggs in a dark hiding place, only coming out for something to eat and drink. The next phase of the kittens lives I enjoyed watching. They spent hours tumbling over each other and batting at grass or a feather. Finally, the time came for the kittens to be taught how to hunt. Long haired Mama cat took the mirror image of her and headed to the machine shed to have him spend three weeks in training. She taught the kitten how to tight rope on the rafters to catch roosting sparrows and to sneak up on mice skittering on the dirt floor in the dark. She might not have been so selective, but he was the only one who seemed interested in learning. The dark gray and the black and white male didn't think they needed help. The friendly kitten preferred to hang out with me in the barn which wasn't teaching her how to be a cat. Finally, Sideways cat convinced the kitten to hunt with her. I didn't mind as long as they stuck to the hay field or the garden, but I worried about the kitten when I saw Sideways cat streak across the road without looking either way, down in the ditch and up the other side with the kitten behind her. They disappeared into the cornfield. I feared Sideways cat might get lost or lose the kitten. There was a reason I felt that way. She has a few loose screws from what happened three years ago. Sideways cat darted across the road and was struck by a vehicle. I didn't see it happen but know that must have been the cause of her infirmity. For a long time she was stiff and sore enough she rarely moved. I carried her food and water. When she could walk, the cat walked sideways. Her head went right and her backend listed to the left. I wanted to pass her many a time and was never sure which side to go around. Her peculiar gait finally got better, but her head cocks over to the side, and she twists her neck to look up at me. I shouldn't have worried. She took good care of the kitten, and soon the hunting lessons ended. One day while I made up the next morning's feed, the kitten showed me how much she'd learned from Sideways by batting at loose hay, smelling for mice and inspecting the corn sack. At that moment, I was hoping she didn't come up with a mouse. I've had experience with many of the fast, furry rodents jumping up to run away as I screamed and went the opposite direction. The kitten went back to following me while I d0 chores. She jumps up on the cat food container and rides with the lid over to the top of a lambing pen. As soon as I feed the cats, she rides back to the container and jumps down to gobble a few bites before she catches up to me to watch me feed the goats. She follows me upstairs and waits for me outside the chicken room. She has adopted me so I decided it was time to name her. I pondered how she stretches her neck out as she watches my every move closely. It's almost like she is job shadowing, but since she can't carry a bucket or hay bale I decided she must be just curious about what I do. So her name is Curious cat. Actually that name wasn't my first choice. Nosy cat came to mind, but I didn't stick with it. I was afraid I'd hurt her feelings.

Meet Curious Cat