Farm Fresh Blog

I'm pleased to announce that Trace is "Back In Bidness!"

After weeks of trying to keep a baby Border Collie quiet and confined . . .

. . .  so his broken leg could heal . . .

. . . we have let loose The Beast!

(As if we were ever able to keep him quiet anyway! But please don't tell the Vet!)

I call this creature the White-Chested Sneaky Snake.

When I'm headed to the barn and I don't want 5 dogs running with me, I put them, one by one, into a kennel on the back porch. Dutifully, each pup slides behind the bars.  Every pup, except one . . . the White-Chested Sneaky Snake.  This creature hides.  It hides behind the Toy Tub.  It hides behind the Tomato pot.  It hides behind the barrel. It flattens itself into the pavement and stays really, really, REALLY still, like a little green lizard, blending into her environment.  It wants to go to the barn. The White-Chested Sneaky Snake knows that I will, at some point, need her help . . .  

 . . . because there are sheep at the barn.

 "Are we going?  Are we going?" Are we going?  What are we doing?  What are we doing? Are you ready now?"

How To Confuse A Livestock Guardian Dog

Step 1: Wean lambs

Step 2: Add some more adult sheep and a few goats

Step 3: Move rams daily

Step 4: Wean more lambs so the screaming is in "surround-sound"

And for the final step . . .  have the Dear Friend put HER sheep on the property next door!

Poor Briar saw the sheep next door and had a mental melt-down this morning.

 "My sheep??!!"

No, not your sheep. Cathy's sheep.

"MY sheep!!!"

No! Cathy's sheep on Roberto's land. NOT your sheep.

"MY sheep! My sheep! MINE!"

Do NOT go over there!  The fence is hot!

 "Not my sheep? Why not?"

Because they're Cathy's sheep.

"Why not My Sheep? I hear sheep screaming. My Sheep screaming. Sheep not happy."

Mommy won't be happy either if you climb that fence!

"STRESS!  STRESS! 

The sheep won't shut up! I cannot stand the stress!"

I feel the same way, Dog. I feel the same way.

Texas is staring down the barrel of a Monster Drought. This means we have to take calves and lambs to the sales sooner. I'd rather wait, but feeding hay all summer will off-set any profit to be had by weight gain. Unfortunately, some of the lambs I had planned to keep, will have to go.  We have to concentrate on managing grassland rather than allowing areas to become overgrazed and feeding hay. 

The best way to manage the property is multi-species mob grazing with fewer animals.  So we're selecting the best and selling the rest.  (but keeping Roanie!)

That said, the dairy goats are still staying.  They are part of the program.  Goats are a pain in the butt, but a necessary part of farmland management, and great comic relief. 

Besides, although meat goats, and sheep are currency, bottle-raised dairy goats are pets who double as a lawn crew . . .

I keep trying to get good pictures of this goat, but it hasn't happened. 

 This is what I get.

 And this.

And this. . .  peeking from under my shirt tail.

 Someone told this goat we were culling critters, so she is making darned sure that we aren't cutting dairy goats from the team. Cute and cuddly tends to stay. Clover knows this!

I'm at a Death Investigation Conference this week (such is the nature of my job) and Other Half is in charge of taking care of my sheep and goats.

Do I feel in the least bit guilty about saddling a cow man with the responsibility of sheep and goats?  Not a bit!  How many times does he jet off for work and leave ME to take care of his cows?!!  So Ladies and Gentlemen, it's payback time!   I did take great delight in telling him that he had to make a special effort to sit down with the dairy goats to pet and cuddle them. Yes, there was a moment of silence after I told him that was one of the chores.

But I predict that this little girl will charm him like she charms everyone else.

"May I have a tummy rub?"

Trot on in to see the newest Spring Brings!

 New Cowpony!

This fella is bred to work cows.  (Colonel Freckles on top/Double Hancock on bottom)  Very nice baby! Very calm. He is already dragging calves.  Other Half already has friends trying to talk him out of this guy.  The poor fellow came from North Texas and went from temps in the 30s to temps in the 80s down here (with high humidity!)  I can just hear him saying (with a George Lopez accent)

"I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"

 And water, he drinks LOTS of water.  (Give him a few weeks to slick out and he'll be just fine.)

New Ewes!

 Very nice big-boned girls to add to the breeding program.  Like 'em a lot! (I might just call the one up front "Big Bertha!)

And I just couldn't help myself! I've wanted dairy goats for years.  The deal was too good to pass up. (package deal from Sheep Goddess)  I've been eating their cheese, and bottle feeding their babies, so when Sheep Goddess needed to part with bottle babies to make way for more, I ended up with goats again. 

Calypso & Swan 

 AND . . .  I just happened to fall in love with this girl who is pregnant.  She decided she wanted to come home with me too.  (Despite the headaches, there's something about goats that I just love!)

 Clover

And so there were goats again at Failte Gate Farm! (somehow I knew the state of being goat-less wouldn't last long!)

But wait!  There's more!!!!

Drumroll please!

The latest, greatest addition to the family . . .

more drumroll . . .

Grandbaby #2

Is this not the most adorable little face??!!  It won't be long before his momma has him on a horse! He will be riding The Supervisor's pony in no time! Remember THIS little girl?

Two years later . . .

It doesn't come much more adorable than this!

(No bias at all!)

I finally found a breed of sheep that meets with Other Half's approval!  Check these out!  They're perfect!  Easy on the fences. They eat practically nothing. Not loud. No shearing. No health problems . . . yet!

But wait until one of the dogs climbs onto the piano!

Then there could be some serious health problems!

I think they may be a bit difficult for the Border Collie to herd though! However something tells me she has other plans!

And she may not be the only one!  Run, Little Sheep!  Run!

This breed is also pretty cheap at Kroger's:

Sheep: $7.99

Lamb: $3.99

 Spring has sprung!

 Pony hair is everywhere!

Hairy ponies everywhere!

In reality, despite the size, everyone is a horse. (but I still call them all "ponies")

Montoya is lonely.    

He wants to be with the minis. Cows just don't cut it.  He wants to be with horses, even pint-sized horses. So this morning I caved and put them together. The minis, who need to be on a dry lot because they get fat when they even sniff spring grass, raced to the spring pasture.

and everyone lived happily ever after . . .

. . . until the mean owner decides they've had enough grass

 and they need to go back in their dirt lot again . . .  

"To know even one life has breathed easier 

 because you have lived,

 this is to have succeeded."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Timing is everything, and every woman knows this. As an illustration, let me share the events of last night:

While peacefully sitting at my desk, I receive call from Other Half, who is also at work. He is working a Big Multi-Agency Operation and has been away from home quite a bit. The purpose of this call is to inform me that he has found a litter of raccoons. Since he is actually in a loud restaurant it is hard to hear the details, but the long and short of it is Momma and litter are slated for death, so he rescued the litter. 

I inform him emphatically that we can NOT keep a litter of raccoons. He reluctantly agrees. (reluctantly!!!!) I remind him that it is AGAINST THE LAW! That fails to deter him.  I remind him that he has been an absentee husband for almost 3 weeks, leaving Son and I to handle HIS animals and we will NOT be happy if he brings home MORE responsibilities!!!  This seems to strike a chord.  I offer to make some phone calls to find wildlife rehabbers in his area. He agrees and goes back to dinner.  Minutes later I call him with two phone numbers and then forget about the raccoons.

All is well until I call to inform him that I am leaving work. It is at this point that he shares  that he is STILL, 3 hours later, in possession of baby raccoons.  Do what??!!!  (He only called one number and they didn't return his call.)

I throw a Giant Hissy Fit. He points out that he was not driving the car, thus not in control of his own destiny, and everyone else wanted to eat, not deal with raccoons. Angry Women aren't the least bit sympathetic to this excuse.  Angry Woman points out that poor baby raccoons have been waiting for 3 HOURS . . . and she will NOT be happy if he comes home with a litter of raccoons for her to take care of while he is out playing Secret Agent Man. (cue music)

Other Half assures Angry She-Bitch that he will drop Innocent Babies off at the SPCA.  Angry She-Bitch points out that the SPCA is NOT OPEN at this hour.  Other Half counters that he did this with a baby owl last year and the facility is always manned.  He then asks if we have any Kitten Formula.  Angry She-Bitch goes postal.  He promises her that he will not bring home a litter of raccoons.

Minutes later an elated Other Half calls to inform her that Precious Babies are now happily snoozing under a heat lamp at the SPCA. He is quite proud of himself.  Angry She-Bitch is slightly satisfied, but since she sees the door open . . . she runs through it. She takes this opportunity to inform Other Half that she has just purchased two baby Nubian goats. He strokes.

"Do what??!!  You just chewed my ass for thirty minutes about responsibility and you bought two more GOATS!?!?!?"

Less-Angry She-Bitch now proceeds to explain that she has been playing with the milk goat mommas and these babies for weeks now. AND .  . . the cheese in the refrigerator is from these momma goats. AND . . .  HE was the one who talked her into selling the last of her Boer goats. AND she has dearly regretted that sale. AND Grandbaby and Grandbaby-On-The-Way want goat milk. 

Helpless before the onslaught of Female Logic, Other Half just gives up. Less-Angry She-Bitch feels slightly guilty for being such a 'bitch' about a Litter of Helpless Baby Raccoons (which are ILLEGAL) and tells him that he is a Good Man for not letting the Pest Control Guy kill the Baby Raccoons. She reminds herself that his heart is in the right place even when he's busy playing Secret Agent Man.