Of Mice and Various Snakes and new Duck Feed Station

As mentioned in the previous post, our region is experiencing a near-Biblical plague of mice. "It's due to all the moisture we had this Spring, plus the flood displacing so much wildlife", someone mentioned. Unfortunately, where there's a plethora of mice, there's snakes, and not just the cool ones that mind their own business and snarf down a rodent now and then. Like the rat snake we adopted from friends, which was captured due to it being lazy and hanging around the chicken coop for easy eggs. That's a cool snake.

First off, mouse management soapbox: I implore you, do NOT use sticky traps outdoors. It will trap ~anything~ that crosses its path, including small bunnies, squirrels and the aforementioned snakes, cool ones or otherwise. It's a horrible way to die. Instead, we had the local pest control company come out and install poison-bait boxes. They double-checked for us and confirmed that any poisoned mice (the product they use causes quick death via severe dehydration) are safe for consumption by both mammals and other avians, including chickens.

[Oh, speaking of chickens, "Veronica" made a full recovery, yay!!!]

Next, we're reconfiguring areas close to the house and animal shelters that are conducive to mouse habitat. We knew for sure there were mice living under one of the duck shelters. Demolishing the shelter moved to the top of the timeline lickety-split when I found a @#$!! rattlesnake in the nesting area.

Thankfully, I was awake enough during that morning egg check to see the snake before I reached down. It was having a nice snooze. I didn't recognize it at first, so got a long stick to lift it up in order to check for rattles. Rattles there? Yep. It didn't start getting annoyed until I tried to move it out, so I closed off the area to keep the birds out, got on some boots & jeans, found the square-edge shovel, and went back out. The snake was now gone. Kinda glad I didn't have to kill it, but that also meant there was a rattlesnake on the loose, the first we've seen since we moved to this property. Eep.

New duck feeding station, front view. 

Spouse made a new, bigger feed station to replace the old duck shelter /feed station (we still have one other shelter, which is plenty big enough for all). It's configured with the roof slanted and on a hinge, so the roof will shed water off the back, and the roof can also be lifted up if you don't want to bend down to grab the feeder. This weekend, he started moving the old duck shelter out of the pen and found... a couple of dead mice, and two very comfy & satisfied rattlesnakes living in the old mouse nest. No wonder the ducks were avoiding the shelter.

Spouse decapitated the snakes as quickly/humanely as he could (see square shovel still on roof of new feed station), created a stable base, and installed the new feed station to replace the old one that had been part of the now-removed old duck shelter. I may end up putting a rain gutter and spout on the back, connected to a large tub, as an additional source of water for the ducks to play in during the rainy season.

New duck feeding station, back view.

The dogs have been taken in for rattlesnake vaccines. You get the first vaccine, then a booster at three weeks, then a shot every six months. It doesn't prevent illness from bites, but instead gives the canine more time to be taken to the vet for treatment. The vet reported that one poor local dog was bitten four times, and the owner said it was the first time in 30 years they'd ever seen rattlers on their ranch. Seems like the Hill Country is a buffet for the snakes this year.

When all's said and done, it doesn't bother me too much to have found rattlesnakes on the property. We've been fortunate to have avoided them for this long. It does mean taking a few more precautions before doing certain kinds of work, however, but that's manageable. As the area settles in for the Long Hot season, the mouse population will start dwindling, which should do the same for the snake population as well.

Spring has arrived, and boy-howdy are we happy

Winter felt like it would never leave. I can only imagine how folks in the Northeast feel, where some just now are seeing crocus and daffodils, and trees budding.

Here, we're experiencing daytime temps in the 70's. The trees have already leafed out. Viewing the hills shows a patchwork of green canopy ranging from bright to dark. The live oaks have shed & re-leafed, and their flowers have dropped. The first wave of wildflowers are starting to fade - bluebonnets and paintbrushes - and the second wave is coming into bloom: firewheel, "indian blanket", and coreopsis. Around the farm, we also have a couple varieties of native purple sage flowers, daisies, and verbenas.

The hens are laying eggs in abundance. Spring brings the best eggs, as the hens are eating fresh young greens and loads of newly hatched bugs.

The geese have finished their egg-laying season, and are much quieter. We can sleep through the night now without bolting awake due to noisy nest fights or woo-frenzy.

The ducks are thrilled with all the Spring rains we've had, making messes of puddles wherever they find them.

The dogs are no longer napping on the porch; their preferred spots are the grass or the kitchen doorstep (I'm guessing because that's where we store treats).

There's a truckbed full of compost waiting to dress the orchard trees and the veggie beds. Suppose I better get to it!

Dogs & Eggs

How do we manage our bountiful harvests of duck, chicken and goose eggs?

• Perfect eggs are sold through the on-line co-op directly to members who order them.

• Cosmetically "imperfect" eggs (stains, odd shapes, etc.) are saved and eaten by Spouse and I.

• "Sketchy" eggs (thin shell, hairline crack, found in sunshine, etc.) are saved, cooked hard, and fed to the dogs.

If there's ever been a time where our dogs have looked at me in utter adoration, it's been when I've topped their kibble with cooked eggs.

Dog Debacle & Redemption

It was all my fault.

It was easier to get Bandit into the cab of the truck instead of the bed, because the used utility truck we own was/is jacked up for bushwhacking. Though the truck bed tailgate is out of easy reach, Bandit can get her paws up to the cab floor. Once she's on her hind legs, all I need to do is lift her arthritic hips, and let her walk forward. Her sister Maggie can jump into the truck cab all by herself, so this should be easy, right?

Yeah. You know where this is going.

In the interests of efficiency and saving time, my keys, purse, phone, and full travel mug of coffee are placed in the cab's center console before getting Bandit inside. From there, as they say, "chaos ensues".

Center console with coffee and purse overturns as Bandit gets into the truck and decides she is going to drive. Bandit's paws and underbelly also happen to have soil all over from digging up a cool spot under the trees, so soon there is soil mixed with coffee mixed with nervous dog saliva all over the vinyl seats, floors, and dashboard. Swell. No time to do more than wipe the driver seat with a nearby towel, and off we go to the vet. Bandit continues to insist on driving, or at the very least sitting on my lap en route. I strong-arm her aside for the blessedly short 2.3 mile drive, while giving thanks for automatic transmission. Bandit is the poster-dog for pet-seat restraints.

We get to the vet. I step out of the cab and get ready to leash her when she leaps from the truck seat and starts a panicked run off the vet property. Gawds, this day is getting better & better. A vet tech witnesses the commotion, and makes an end-run before Bandit heads into the local subdivision. So glad she loves the vet techs. Bandit practically drags me into the vet office after capture, trailing the tech.

I pick Bandit up later that afternoon. The tech helps me lift Bandit into the truck bed instead of the cab, as I still don't want anyone but myself driving. I bungee Bandit's collar to a tie-down in the truck bed to deter a potential suicide leap while on the drive home. I was not looking forward to lifting her out of the truck bed by myself, but I'd rather get her home safe and deal with a torqued back from lifting than wrestling the wheel with her on the road. Party pooper, I know.

Photo: Bandit is unbungee'd at this point, I swear.

Here we get to the redemption part. Perhaps some rare moment in the past when I wasn't crabby, I made someone smile and accrued some positive vibes. Don't know how else to credit the idea that pops into my head on how to get Bandit out of (and in the future, into) the truck bed. Next to our driveway is a section of deep/high cutout on the hillside. I back the truck up to the cutout, and drop the tailgate. It lines up perfectly with a level patch of ground. Maggie, excited to see her sister, bounds up the gentler part of the slope and runs into the truck bed to get a good sniff of Bandit. I stand around feeling smug, admiring my handiwork, then wonder why Bandit isn't leaving the truck.

Oh, right. She is still bungee'd to the truck bed.

Bless the unconditional love that dogs give us. I'm not sure how Bandit survives our relationship.

*splutter* Winter?

I mean, what the heck happened to Fall??? Texas has been hit with wave after wave of Arctic downdrafts. The cool concrete flooring I wax so joyously about in the Summer now feels like a block of ice, and this year (like last year, and the year before) I swear to get a couple of good sized area rugs to stave off frostbite. I mean, it's so bad that when Spouse surprised me with a pair of insulated muck boots for Christmas, I almost cried - I need them for inside almost as much as outside. Of course, I could just buy the d*mn rugs already...

The biggest event since last post has been The Flood. Our area received eleven inches of rain over a single night, ripping up the roads within AND leading out of the community. Spouse and Uncle brought in a few loads of roadbase right away to patch up our biggest ruts, but we ended up needing three more dump-truck loads to complete all the needed repairs. Our next-door neighbor was a tremendous help, loaning his time & tractor skills not only to repair our culverts and rutted road, but also assisting other neighbors, and doing what he could to temporarily shore up the community road until we all finish fundraising for a pro fix. If it weren't for him, we'd still be 4x4'ing to get anywhere. Thank you D. (and spouse T. for letting him!), more "spontaneous" smoked ribs coming your way!

pic: tangerines, satsumas & limes

In the category of "Hopes & Dreams", the first seed catalog to arrive this season was Good Seeds from Baker Creek Heirlooms, right before Christmas. Second in the mailbox was Bountiful Gardens, the gold standard for everything heirloom, untreated & open pollinated. I've put in a catalog order for Southern Exposure Seed Exchange in hopes of more varieties that will work well in our semi-arid region. Our "average" last frost is in mid-March, and if I want any Summer tomatoes at all, I'll need to start seedlings in early February.

While the garden may have been an epic FAIL in 2013, we had a nice Winter harvest of citrus. There are still some fruits ripening on the trees, but initial harvest of limes gave us enough for two ice-cube trays full of juice, which was promptly frozen & stored for future use. Other limes were used fresh for personal libations, on those few porch-sitting, warm weather days.  Spouse shored up & modified our old kit greenhouse to accommodate the taller citrus trees. The structure has done well by us: it's been a greenhouse in the Winter, and secondary duckpond structure in the Summer. We really need to get a bigger, sturdier greenhouse built in 2014, however, as this one is on its last legs. The plastic joiners can only be repaired so much, and the geese have chewed the edges of the plastic tarp cover to ribbons.

pic: yes, the geese did this

The chickens started their annual egg-laying slowdown around late August, and all but two hens went on outright strike until the other week. Our girls are getting older, but even the youngest (who are less than 2 years old) said "meh". Of course, when the light wanes the girls lay less by nature. We could put a 12-hour timed light in the henhouse, which would trick the girls into laying a few more eggs during Winter... but, nahh. Just two weeks after Solstice, however, the two youngest girls started adding to weekly egg tally, and I'm guessing by late February, we'll be back up to a decent production, enough to sell again. May get a handful of Welsummers to freshen up the flock this Spring. Had high hopes the Welsummer rooster would work out and give us a few pretty babies, as Lucky's progeny turn out too flighty for my preference, but Lucky the Leghorn rooster Did Not Want. The two roosters fought until bloody, with Lucky getting the worst of it. Lucky ultimately won the war by virtue of being a known good roo to the ladies. The Welsummer was shipped off to a new home. Perhaps I'll wait for another rooster & homegrown chicks after Lucky retires to the henhouse in the sky, so to speak.

pic: Nutmeg the Cubalaya, RIP

Speaking of chickens, we did lose one of the Pecking Order Enforcers from our first hand-raised flock, the small yet mighty Nutmeg. She'd been slowing down for a couple of months, and (what turned out to be) her last two weeks I'd bring her inside the house at night, where it was warmer. During her last week, she'd walk towards the house at dusk instead of the coop, and wait for me to bring her inside. She was the only hen that Bandit the dog would willingly share morning breakfast. She is survived by her sister Cinnamon, and two others of the original flock. We will miss her.

Now that Bandit's been mentioned, I must report that most of our savings for a garage has been spent on getting her knees repaired - yep, both back knees. One blew out late Summer, and the other right before Thanksgiving. It's a good three months of rehab (thankfully, we can do that for her ourselves), then three more months before the knee is solidly healed. Not that I know all that much about joint repair and rehab, mind you. I'm not bitter, I swear.

We still have the full flock of ducks: nine hens, and one drake. The ducks experienced a major egg slowdown like the chickens this season, then egg production rose these past few weeks as well. I'm on the lookout for paperboard duck-egg cartons, so if you happen to see any in your 'net wanderings, drop us a line in the comments? Gracias!

pic: Queen Moe,
in dressing room sans costume

Queen Moe had a moment of stardom this Fall when she won Second Place (in the "exotics" category) at a Pet Costume fundraiser for a local convalescent center. I whipped up a pumpkin cape for her back, and prayed no-one would judge for quality stitching. She beat out a horse painted like Nemo the clown-fish, but lost to two small children who painted up their hermit-crab aquarium so their crabs looked like they lived in an undersea world. [One friend mock-huffed "ageism!" Never compete against small children with pets*, or something like that.] Moe was a right trooper, letting herself be carried to, and petted by, all the seated patients in attendance. Her Majesty let me know she was ready to go home by tugging on my shirt towards the end of the event. Not sure where the video of her doing the shirt-tug is hiding, so the pic with ribbon award will have to do.

Last, but not least, we're now preparing for the arrival  of Extreme Goose Crabbiness, also known as Goose Egg-Laying Season. There have been signs, such as heightened annoyance (versus regular annoyance) when anything non-goose gets near, and some of the ladies have been seen checking out the undersides of bushes and other likely laying spots. No synchronized head-bobbing in the Pool o' Woo yet, nor any gander battles either, thank goodness. We wait with bated breath, chewed fingernails, and protective gear at ready.

*"Never work with animals or children." - W.C. Fields

DIY Duck & Goose & Dog Pond Filter system

Spouse writes:

The eight geese and two dogs foul up the goose pond in about 4.5 days during the summer. The pond filter we have used for the last few years was a pressurized number that used an external pump. The old pond pump worked under horrible conditions. It had to pump goose poo "soup" continuously. It was stepped on when the dogs jumped in to cool off in said soup. The geese chewed on the power cord while making aforementioned soup... you get the idea. We have gone through a lot of pumps. The current incarnation is more of a pump in a cage. We have a regular 500 gallon per hour pump in this box (http://www.homedepot.com/p/Total-Pond-Mechanical-and-Biological-Filter-Kit-MF13010/202278958). It is connected to a 15 foot length of lead free 5/8 lawn hose connected with a ½ inch adapter. The old pond filter was just too small to take  - err – "soup" and make it spring fresh.

<insert boring design explanation of latest pond filter operation>
I wanted a large three stage filter. The first stage is mechanical filtration at the pump to make sure that the submerged pump runs without incident. The second stage is a a clarifier so that any particulate that makes it past the mechanical stage settles out before the third stage. The third stage is the biological stage. Bacteria - living in some sort of media - consume and filter out the remaining wastes still in the water. For the media, I am using three bags of lava rock.
<end boring design explanation of filter operation>

The resulting filter is part gigantic aquarium filter, part pond filter, and only slightly overbuilt (I hope). I used the filter described here (http://www.runnerduck.com/pf1.htm) as the basis for the new filter with just a few modifications. I switched to 55 gallon drums. I added an extra tank for a clarifier. And swapped out the filter pads for 3 bags of lava rock to host the aquarium bacteria that were going to convert the soup to clean water.

Here is a is the end result...

[the completed project]

Water is pumped from the pond through the light green hose into the clarifier.(the barrel farthest from the pond. The water enters the clarifier from the top which allows the particulate to fall to the bottom and the water flows out the side and into the media tank.. The water is piped to the bottom of the media tank under a plastic screen which is elevated 4 inches off the bottom. View from the top before the lava rock went in. The plastic screen rests on s stand made out of PVC as detailed on the runnerduck page link above.

[media tank BEFORE lava rock was added]

Here it is with the media barrel loaded with lava rock.

First thing I found out was use real bulkhead fittings like these: http://www.homedepot.com/p/1-1-4-in-EPDM-Washer-Bulkhead-MPT-x-FPT-Union-PL-1846-1-1-4-inch-Bulkhead-Union/203258816
Trying to make your own out of pipe pieces scavenged from the plumbing aisle only results in leaks, cursing, and a floor show for the geese who inevitably arrive to supervise.

Second: size the outlet bigger. But maybe not this big:

[the outlet. the filter screen below in the pond was temporary]

That is a ½ inch inlet being drained by a 3 inch outlet. Sort'a of like a grapefruit launcher loaded with raisins. I did have a one inch outlet but that barely kept up. I doubled the size of the bulkhead fitting to 2 inches but all I could find on short notice is the three inch pipe with an adapter.

Here is the inside of the media barrel with water running through it.

The pump has been running for 4 days and the water is just as clear as when we filled it up after cleaning it the last time. The water clouded up for a few hours after I added aquarium filter bacteria but otherwise it has been clear. The animals are certainly using it. The chickens play with the bubbles produced by the outlet stream. One of the dogs, Bandit, has been in it every day as have the geese so the filter appears to be working. We will still have to clean the foam filter on the pump box but that takes a fraction of the time compared to doing a full dump* and scrub. We still need to figure out a way to clean the bottom of accumulated leaves, feathers and whatever else the geese pull into swim with them. But so far the new filter system has been successful.

*d.a. writes: the aforementioned "dump" is actually pumped out to each of the fruit trees. It takes awhile to do so, but we don't waste water here in South Central Texas, y'all.

stupendously huge skillet breakfast & a haircut: two bits!

pic: the stupendously huge skillet breakfast.

Fell asleep around 1:00AM, woke to the alarm at 3:00AM. Took Spouse to the airport so he could see his folks for a few days (we're down to one car at the moment). Stopped at Major Chain Diner after drop-off - was inexplicably ravenous at 4:30AM. Forgot how these diners serve stupendously huge entrees. The skillet breakfast was filling, and more than two-thirds was still on the plate when I finished. Boxed it up for the chickens.

Once home, briefly napped until dawn chores called. Gave the chickens the still-warm skillet breakfast (chopped up into smaller bits). The chickens couldn't finish the skillet breakfast either. The dogs selflessly worked cleanup detail.

Having had real caffeinated coffee with the stupendously huge breakfast ensured that a goodly nap would be elusive for the rest of the day. Decided to chance going into the city to get *cue dramatic music*: a haircut. Getting a haircut has become a Very Big Deal, full of Angstyness and Gnashing of Teeth. My local stylist left the area almost two years ago (d@mmit!), and every stylist since then has either given me a bubblehead cut or an 80's Rick Springfield 'do (not being as cute as '80's Rick Springfield, I can't carry that look). Summertime is no problem: give me a #6 guard on an electric hair trimmer and a pair of thinning shears, and I can wrangle a basic short style. It's the Fall and Winter where I run into trouble, letting the hair grow out for warmth. So I pulled up my Big Girl Britches, dusted off the credit card, and went back to Ritzy (Yet Still A Chain) Salon. It'd been what - over three years since I last went there? Since I last had a salaried IT job, anyways. Painfully expensive, but for reason - they give great cuts. They're now giving free trims between cuts, probably due to the economy but still, thank goodness - it makes their prices a bit easier to swallow. I've now a growing-it-out, grownup modern 'do that is presentable enough for upcoming client-facing work.

pic: Moe the Duck. She probably
designed the flag.

Home again home again, jiggity-jog, and look at the time: need to muck out the 4'x6' duck pond. [Funny, it used to be "the goose pond", then it became "the goose & duck pond", now it's "the duck pond". The ducks have definitively taken over. They have a flag.] The ducks vacate the duck pond by late afternoon for the pools on the other side of the house - they love their routine. Can almost set your watch by it, if your watch is a sundial. Anyhow, presented my new hairdo to the chickens, geese, ducks & dogs. They had no comment. I don't think the birds looked past my knees, to be honest. The dogs were probably hoping for more stupendously huge breakfast goodies. My, how one's ego gets checked on the farm! Clad my glamorous self in work clothes and rubber boots, and got to mucking.

DIY: Big Dog Feeder Stands

Emma is a bit arthritic, and so the thought was to build a feed stand* for her. Having the dog food bowl a bit higher would be easier on her shoulder joints. Then, of course, we'd need to have feed stands for all the dogs, as we wouldn't want any jealousy going on during the morning chow-down. Happy discovery: the dogs' current food bowls fit perfectly atop five-gallon plastic plant pots.

The bowls, with lip, measure about 11 inches across, and the plastic pots slightly less (so as to support the lip of the bowl, natch). The pots stand about a foot tall.

While these pots were left over from recent plantings, you could probably pick some up for free or spare change at any garden nursery center that recycles their plant containers. Throw some rocks in the bottom of the pot for stability (or bricks, or whatever heavy refuse you have laying about) and voila! Feeder stand!

[* Please note: there is some controversy over feeder stands, as some believe it contributes to bloating. See article on GDV here.]

Submit to the Chicken

"My, what big teeth you have Grandma!" I thought as I was giving Emma a look-over a few days ago. Not only are her teeth bigger than our other two Great Pyrenees, but her paws are larger as well. Online research has found that between her Anatolian genes and the Great Pyr genes, she could get up to 130 pounds. Holeeeee smokes! That makes now the time, while she's still under-weight, to get any lessons on submission done.

Emma, as she's coming out of her shell, is showing herself to be very playful, energetic, and curious in the mornings. Not that this is bad, it's just a bad combination while she's tailing me on the morning chores. I'd open the coop doors, and Emma would want to sniff, pounce and chase those fluffy, squawky things around. Uh-oh, not good at all. Firm orders of "no!" were unheeded, and distractions didn't last for long, so it was time to make her Submit to the Chickens.

I picked up one of the more docile hens - a fluffy Brahma. Then I grabbed Emma. Underweight though she may be, it took all of my weight shoved against her to bring her down, and even with my 155 pounds it took a good thirty seconds of wrestling to get her onto her side: one arm around Emma, trying to get leverage, and one arm holding the (now very annoyed) chicken.

Emma still has her spirit, I'm happy to say. She did not submit quickly, but she did "get it" once she was down. She relaxed, I kept the chicken in her face, and she looked away. I may have to do this a few more times to get the lesson sunk in thoroughly, but I think she's teachable.

Dog wrasslin'. I reeeeeaaaaly hope the security cameras on the property have recorded over that morning's takedown already.

These Dogs

Why do we have these dogs, again? Well I know why we have livestock guardian dogs. They are supposed to guard the chickens, geese, D.A., and whatever follows D.A. home this week (you not getting off the hook for those peahens, hon). What I don’t know is why we have these dogs. Yes, they are Great Pyrenees from a working farm. Yes, they are very active at night, presumably scaring off foxes and raccoons (but not little bunnies because we see them at night within 30 feet of the house and the dogs). And yes, we have only lost one chicken to predation since they have been here.

However, all dogs have their idiosyncrasies and these two are no different. Maggie hates thunderstorms. She hates them so much you can tell how bad a storm will be just by watching how quickly she retreats to her bed on the porch. Bandit is the brave one until she gets to the vet, and then it's Maggie that becomes the happy dog without a care in the world. Bandit dutifully watches after the livestock, and is the first one to come running when the geese start squawking. She even paws at Bob, the rotten gander, just so he will chew on her: she reacts like his nips are love and affection. Maggie, however, watches the gates and not to intercept any interlopers. Nope. She is looking to escape and the last two times she left Bandit behind – so much for thick-as-thieves littermates.

And then there is the car. The first year with us we could not get the dogs into the car. It was a virtual battle requiring heaving, pulling, and cajoling, and that was D.A. just trying to get me out the door to drag the dogs into the car. That has all changed in the last 12 months. If there is a car door open, then there is at least 110 pounds of drooling dog inside and possibly 220. Normally, it is not a big deal since you can call them and they get out. Today, however, was different.

It was starting to rain, which meant Maggie was up on the porch. The rain happened to coincide with errands for D.A. and I, who were getting in the car. As we headed out, Maggie appeared to think that we were leaving and that the weather might be nicer out beyond the eight acre fenced-in prison we call home. She followed us to the gate and before I could close it she was dashing to freedom. Bandit being the smarter (or slower) one stayed behind and barked encouragement. I am still not sure if Bandit’s barks were in support of D.A. who has started pursuit, or for Maggie who is looking for a lack of thunder and lightning somewhere two states over.

Did I mention the rain? It was a good Texas rain. The kind that made D.A. shield her eyes so she could see where she was going while running after Maggie. I think it was heavy enough to slow down Maggie because she stopped about 50 yards from the gate, where D.A. could grab her. I had D.A. put her in the back seat of my little Subaru Impreza and we drove back to the gate, where D.A. jumped out and corralled Bandit before she could get out the gate as well.

Once through the (now secured) gate, D.A. opened the rear door to let Maggie out. Maggie was fine to continue soiling my back seat, and stayed put. Bandit thought that looked like fun so she jumped in, too. Apparently this looked entirely too cozy for D.A. who by this time is completely soaked, and sent me back to the house while she walked back. She should have run to watch the spectacle that was about to come.

I drove up the driveway and parked. The dogs looked to me as if expecting a trip to the drive through for double cheese burgers or, at minimum, a trip to Dairy Queen for that new pecan pie Blizzard. When I opened the door they weren’t going anywhere. I pulled Maggie out and then went back for Bandit, who saw what was in store and jumped from the back seat to the front for my keys and a clean getaway. But since dogs can’t operate clutch (lucky for me and the local Dairy Queen) I was able to collar Bandit and drag her out. It was at this point I realized that I had either left the back door open or Maggie was able to open the door with her paws because now Maggie was sitting in the back seat right where she was when we started this story. As I went to get her, she also jumped to the front seat, which Bandit had also just reclaimed.

Now I am completely soaked and there are still two wet and muddy dogs in my car who, according to the mud splatter on my dash, prefer a lot of air conditioning and don’t like NPR on the radio. I finally get them both dragged out and then D.A. walks up and has no idea what happened until I explained and showed her the inside of the car. The dogs tried to tell their side of the story, but decided they were tired and laid down on the porch instead. I think they were thinking the same thing we were: "why do we let them live here again?"

[pic top: Bandit in the front seat during dryer times. Pic bottom: Maggie being a storm barometer]

Maggie Discovers Porcupines

She was crashed on the front porch dog bed this morning. Unusual, but I didn't think much about it as I set out to do the goose & chicken chores. A few minutes later she ambled gently out into the yard, where I then saw three porcupine quills sticking quite prominently out of her nose. Ahhh... so THAT'S what all the excited barking was about last night!

Put Maggie into a headlock, and yanked out the quills one by one. She was growling by the second quill. By the third quill, she was ready to take off. I let her go, whereupon she immediately attacked Bandit who was lolling innocently nearby. Perhaps she was blaming Bandit for last night's adventures?

[Pic: Maggie sniffing a chicken butt, probably much like she did with the porcupine last night, but with less trauma.]

Motion

Fur in motion stays in motion:


Unless something catches it's attention:


Then it's back to motion again.

Dog on Tarpaulin

This is one of our two Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dogs, named "Bandit":



This is Bandit on top of a tarpaulin:



This is Bandit on top of a tarpaulin covering 20 cubic yards of compost & soil, because if I didn't cover the soil, both Bandit and Maggie would have the soil dug out and spread all over the property within a week:



I'm really, REALLY glad they don't have opposable thumbs.

Dogs Day Off

I guess the plumber accidentally let them out the gate yesterday morning. There's no other explanation. Spouse & I walked and drove around in the gawdawful Texas heat and dust, calling for the dogs. No response. Bandit's vet appointment that afternoon had to be canceled. Nothing left to do but leave the gates open in case the little ingrates made their way back home, and ready the printer for a dozen "Missing Dog" posters.

They finally came back in the late afternoon, looking worn out from head to toe. You gotta click on the pics to see their miserable expressions, sprawled out under the shade oaks and water misting hoses. Yep, I'm enjoying some good old-fashioned schadenfreude right now. Rotten dogs!

[Don't mind my grousing - I'm quite thankful they came home. No buckshot to remove or skunk spray to wash out. Just a little heat exhaustion, from the looks of it. 106°F yesterday!]

Video: Bandit Loves Billy-Bob

Although I don't think Billy-Bob (the gander) likes Bandit (the dog) all that much.

If Bandit is feeling the need for attention, she'll head-butt Billy-Bob's chest. Billy-Bob will then gnaw on Bandit for all he's worth. Bandit will move her head around, letting Billy-Bob chomp everywhere. If he stops, sometimes she'll put a paw on his back to get him to "love" some more. But here, take a look at this video if you don't believe me...

Peppered Goose Egg, Part Deux: Success?

"Look out the window," I whispered to Spouse, "Maggie's eating the cayenne-filled egg!"

The goose egg (one of two) was the cumulative effort of over an hour of huffing and puffing to blow out the eggs, and then trying several different ways to fill the eggs with the rusty red spice per Chance's suggestion. Perhaps I should have also asked Chance for details on how she did it first. After trying (and failing) to fill the eggs with home-made funnels and straws before finally punching a hole big enough for a real funnel, much sneezing happened, and then I rubbed my eyes before washing my hands... d'oh! You can guess what happened, but no permanent damage was done to my eyes - just to the confidence in my supposed intelligence. I then partially hid the finished eggs in one of the empty goose kennels.

Back to Maggie: I watched her lick the tape off the hole where I had filled the egg, crunch into the shell... then an expression of confusion and horror covered her face. Spouse went outside as Maggie was backing away from the egg. Spouse grabbed the egg and held it up to Maggie's face... she continued backing away, looking in revulsion at what was once a tasty ill-gained treat. We're hoping she's learned her lesson. Thing is, did it take one or two eggs to teach her? We still haven't found the second egg.

Garden Beds Update

Of all the cane fruit planted, it looks like the Brazos thorny blackberries are the ones that are thriving best at the moment. I didn't realize there were second year canes on the plants, so it looks like we may even get a few berries this summer! The thornless blackberries (hmm, no name on the tag) look like they haven't made up their minds to stay or go. The Latham raspberries are just now poking a few green buds out of their branches; perhaps they're finally getting over the trauma of the dogs eating one of their sisters.

Once the New Moon comes 'round, it will be time to plant the new arrivals. We have goji berries (actually, Chinese wolfberries instead of Tibetan, but same plant), hops rhizomes, two small bay laurels (will be put into pots) and at least one passionfruit. The second passionfruit fell victim to the dogs as well. Were they after the plant this time? No, just the plastic pot. Sh*theads.

Tomorrow I'll head over to a local nursery and pick up two trumpet vines whose color just grabbed me by the heart. I'll plant them on the posts next to the patio steps - after I make sure that the leaves aren't poisonous to the geese and chickens. Hummingbirds love these flowers, and it would be great fun to watch them. Even nicer not to have to fill hummingbird feeders. Okay, so we humans in the household can't eat these flowers, but not everything has to be utilitarian, eh?

Having a "honey do" day on this first day of Spring: fixing leaky faucet, repairing wooden stool, gluing back together teapot lid. Hoping that blast of cold weather last week was the final shivery front of the season. Happy Equinox!

[Dog pic: Sh*thead #1, aka Bandit, and one of the reasons we have chicken wire and fencing around the soon-to-be planted plants.]

Destructo Dogs

Aww, don't they look so sweet, laying there and snoozing like that? This picture was taken just a few scant hours after they ate a raspberry plant that was awaiting transplant into the front garden beds. I caught them as they were going back for the second potted raspberry plant. The plant was thorny, people! And yet they still chewed it down to the nub! What the @#$!!, dogs?!!!

[pic: Bandit and Maggie, sleeping it off.]

If you can't chase the delivery guy...

...eat the delivery.

The pups, as noted here and here, like to drag out and chew a variety of items. Old beer and soda cans found around the property; barbecue implements, blown in plastic bags, water pitchers, wooden bowls, logs. Anything left out and within reach is fair game. They even managed to ferret out and chew into oblivion the wooden decoy egg I'd put into Cinnamon's latest outdoor nest (back to @#$!! egg hunting again).

It's not that they aren't provided chewy stuff. We give them dried pig ears, rolled rawhide "bones", and even big roasted cow bones you can get from the pet store. It's just not enough, somehow.

So, on Monday: Spouse looks out through the living room window and sees Maggie chewing on something. "Jeeze, what is she chewing on now?" He retrieves the item, and we look over it. "Looks like some sort of small carry bag". Thinking it may have been a drop or throwaway from a previous tenant, toss it aside and think nothing more of it, even though it did look suspiciously new...

Then I'm out and about the next day, doing chores and taking photos. I start picking up trash - bits of chewed plastic bag, cardboard... wait, what's that? Is that a battery recharger? How did that get on the property? Find a piece of paper; it's a receipt from Amazon.com addressed to Spouse... uh oh. Yep, there's the rest of the order: several chewed packs of rechargeable batteries, charging cord, other recharge parts, scattered hither and yon sans its nylon carry case we found yesterday. I call Spouse: "hon, you're not gonna believe this..."

Next on the home project list: dog-proof drop box for UPS deliveries.

Good Doggies

They're not yet fully grown, nor at full maturity. They still occasionally give a playful bounce towards a chicken or a goose (a big no-no, and fortunately becoming more rare). For the most part, however, their guardian instincts are kicking in and they're doing their job around the property. All we really need is for them to guard the chickens and geese, but the two pups seem to be developing specialties:

Bandit has learned how to gently herd the geese at dusk into their night-time pen. I've watched her do it, unassisted, a couple of times now. This is not something Spouse or I have specifically taught her, so I'm guessing she's learned from watching. She will also walk at my side when I herd the geese on those evenings when they need to head in early. As of last night, she worked with me in tandem to herd one side while I worked the other side. w00t! Now I just need teach her how to shut the gate, latch it, set the electric fence into place, and switch it on... what?

Maggie's specialty appears to be guarding the house. Bandit will patrol far afield (well, as far as the fenced-in eight acres will allow), but Maggie stays close. Some nights when she's by the poultry pen, she'll hear the back door close as I'm on my way out to work and come tearing around the corner, barking. Once she sees it's me, then it's nothing but tail wagging and butt wiggling and oh by the way, is there a treat? Treat? Yes?

After guarding throughout the night, they'll sack out during the day, usually sleeping wherever the chickens are hanging out at the moment (which is tough to do, as the chickens are constantly on the move). They listen for the geese, and if the geese give a honk of alarm they'll come running to check out the situation.

It's been nine months of hard work, teaching the dogs daily on basic manners and making sure they know who's the "alpha". It's finally starting to pay off. Good doggies!