Stories of life on our farm in Northwest Georgia where every day is an adventure in this beautiful spot that God has entrusted to our stewardship.
Showing posts with label Great Pyrenees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Great Pyrenees. Show all posts

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Bye Bye, Birdie: A Tragic Turkey Tale

Back toward the end of September, I did a post about our turkeys ignoring the call of the wild turkeys.

They may not have been very adventurous back then, but earlier this month they got really adventurous--and came to call in the back yard.


So we clipped their wings, Herb put up chicken wire to block the handy cross rail they were landing on, and we put them back in the pasture where they belonged.  Or so we thought . . .

Then last week our contractor, who was putting a railing on the back porch, called me while I was driving home and said, "I'm being attacked by a turkey!"  It turned out he was kidding--about the "attack" part.  But there really was a turkey in the back yard hoping for a handout from his lunch!  I got home, caught the turkey and put him back where he belonged.  And that was that, for a while.


Then just this Monday, the 14th, Herb came in and told me that one of the turkeys was gone.  We concluded that it had gotten over the fence again, this time to join its wild fellows.  We decided we needed to slaughter the other turkey quickly, although it seemed to have settled in with just the sheep for company.  We set today as the sad day.  I knew we would really miss our turkey's cheerful "prrrrit! prrrrit!" but with half our Thanksgiving dinner running wild, we intended to make sure of the half that was left.

Then yesterday morning Herb came into the house with some tragic news.  Turkey Lurkey, as I had christened the "one that didn't get away," had drowned itself in the stock tank.  We simply could not figure out why--with the kiddie pool/duck pond right there full of water--our poor, silly bird had tried to drink out of the tank.  Even though we had intended to dispatch him within 24 hours, it made me sick to think of him dying that way.

Then yesterday afternoon as I was moving cattle, something caught my eye in the Home Pasture.  A closer look led me to the obvious conclusion that "the one that got away" hadn't gotten away at all.  In fact, it had met a fate worse than mere death--it had been killed by a predator, most likely a coyote.  The widespread clumps of feathers with blood here and there indicated that the poor turkey had fought and struggled before succumbing; the absence of bones indicated that it had been carried away.  Suddenly the stock tank drowning made more sense:  maybe the other turkey jumped up on the water tank to escape a return of the predator.

And where was Misty when all this happened?  In the barnyard with the ducks, guarding the chicken coop.  She can't be in two places at the same time, poor girl--and I must confess to being rather thankful that she didn't have to fight off whatever took the turkey.  Her presence might have discouraged the predator from attacking--or she might have been injured fighting it off.

We've learned several things from this tragic tale.  We like turkeys, and we'd like to try again.  But next time we'll follow advice we just got from our friends the Newswangers, who raise a whole flock of turkeys along with their Dexters:  We'll use electrified orange netting.  Predators can't climb it to get in (like they can with a fence), and turkeys can't climb it to get out.

This was a costly lesson for us since I now have to order an expensive organic turkey.  It also cost our poor turkeys because they died lingeringly and in fear, as opposed to quickly and mercifully.  Life on a farm isn't always stunning sunsets and cute calves.  Sometimes it's ugly and cruel, and we have to learn to take the bad with the good.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Operation Tundra: Our Calf Rescue Op

(NOTE:  This was written yesterday, July 6, 2013.)

I've been keeping a close Calf Watch on Sara for the past few days (more on that soon).  Last night when Jean-Marc went with me to check her, I told him I thought she could calve "tonight or tomorrow."  We got home  late from a wedding last night, so I didn't do another check because I know Sara is a completely capable mother.

We all lazed in on this gray rainy morning, but shortly after noon I asked who wanted to check on Sara with me.  Jenny and Jean-Marc bravely bedecked themselves in borrowed rain gear and came out with me.


We found Sara in a relatively sheltered spot, and sure enough, she'd had her calf.  (This photo was taken at 12:19 p.m.)

We  watched them for a few minutes, and the calf finally got up.  We could see her umbilical cord dangling.

When Sara turned away to graze a bit, we could see that the calf had nursed at least once because the right side of Sara's udder was way emptier than the left side; that side was still full to bursting with the teats strutting as I had seen it last night.

I told Jenny and Jean-Marc that I thought this just might be a heifer as it was too pretty and dainty to be a bull.  The calf obliged by moving around and twitching her tail, and sure enough, we have another heifer!

The calf tired quickly and went to lay back down where it had been while Sara moved off a ways to eat.  What a beautiful spot to be born, even if it is a rainy, grismal day!

After a few minutes, Sara came back to her calf and tried to make it get up, but despite her vigorous licking and even shoving it with the side of her horn, practically rolling it over, the calf just huddled on the ground, shivering so violently that her back leg was jerking in the air.

 That was when I kicked into my "Black Op" mode and cooked up a secret mission.

With all the talk of spies and surveillance in the news lately, it behooved me to protect the identities of the agents involved in this op by giving them secret identities.  Since I initiated the op, I will henceforth be known as "M"--for Mom.

Agents 001 and 002, were so named because they volunteered for this dangerous mission.  001 is taller than 002, but if I tell you any more, I'll have to kill you.

M, along with 001 and 002, returned to Headquarters to recruit one more agent, numbers being crucial to the success of the mission.  That is how 003 became involved.

Our Black Hawk being currently in the shop for repairs, we opted for our other stealth vehicle, our (appropriately black) Toyota Tundra for which the mission was named.

Q issued our secret gadgets, disguised as chunks of apple in a plastic baggie and a pile of sweet feed in a rubber bowl.


The Tundra carried us safely through the rain, and 001 volunteered to shut the gate behind us.
M and 003 used the apple chunks to divert the horses into the Back Pasture where they could not interfere with the mission.

As expected we found the objects of our mission where we had left them, no surprise since the calf wouldn't get up.
M went into full Black Op mode, bribing Sara with the sweet feed.  Unfortunately, an enemy spy in the guise of Misty had escaped from its prison in the hay barn and followed us into the middle of our target territory.  Since Sara hates dogs, we were worried that Misty might derail the mission, but fortunately Sara was more interested in the proffered bribe.

The mark took the bait, and the mission was a "Go!"

Letting Sara have only one quick taste, M (who had assigned herself the second-most dangerous role) moved away from Sara, drawing her farther away from the main target of the mission--the calf.

To our surprise, Plan A began more smoothly than we had hoped.  Every time Sara started to turn her head to look for her calf, M shook the feed pan closer to her nose, and Sara's attention immediately swerved back to the feed.  Once she had Sara's complete attention, and once they were far enough away, M waved a hand behind her in a secret signal to 003, who had volunteered for the most dangerous part of the mission as Point Man.  If the mission were to fail, he would be impaled on the point of Sara's horns!

Surveilled closely by the persistent spy Misty, 003 moved over to the slippery, shivering calf.

He picked it up in his arms, closely observed by Misty and by his fellow agent 002 with the camera.  It was important to record the details of this mission, and 002's role was crucial.

003 struggled up the steep bank toward the relative safety of the Tundra.
 001 was waiting patiently in the back of the truck to help receive the calf.

Meanwhile, M had opened the back gate and headed into the Lower Pasture toward the run-in shed, followed closely by Sara who was completely oblivious of  what was happening to her calf.
001 petted the calf . . .
 ... and moved it further into the truck for safety while 003 headed to the driver's seat of the Tundra.  003 drove very slowly and carefully yet without wasting any time.  He and his fellow agents knew that Sara might have already finished the feed and be heading out of the pasture looking for her calf.
The Tundra rounded the corner and passed the Back Pasture, and there was no sign of Sara.  So far, so good!
003 skillfully negotiated the tight turn through the gate left open for him by M.
They were safely into the Back Pasture!  002 closed the gate behind them and hurried to catch up to the Tundra which headed for M and Sara, who was still pursuing her bribe thanks to M's careful negotiations.  001 balanced himself in the bouncing truck, gently holding the calf to make sure she wouldn't try to stand up.  When asked later what it was like to hold an hours-old calf, he replied, "Like nothing I've ever experienced!"

Lifting the calf from the truck, 003 acceded to M's request to pet her before he set her carefully on her four feet.


The first thing the calf did was move over to the truck and touch it with her nose as if she were saying, "Thank you, Tundra, for rescuing me."

The bribe finally consumed, the next thing Sara did was move over to her calf and begin to lick it.
While Sara licked her calf all over, M and 003 removed the hay ring from around the thick bed of old hay in the corner of the shelter so that Sara and her calf would have a well-furnished safe house.
Sara, however, did not feel the need to keep her calf in the safe house, and she gently enticed the calf to follow her, licking it and softly mewling in her tender mother cow voice.  At this point Misty defected to the Tundra team and volunteered to see the mission through.

Declaring the mission a success, the team celebrated with an official photo for release to the press.  Agent 002 opted to take the photo of the others.  We wish to recognize her faithful service along with that of Agent 001, M, and Agent 003.
We would also like to officially recognize Agent Misty, the last to be recruited and also the last to leave the field.  She stood guard for a while until she was sure that Sara and her calf were safe under the trees.

No mission is ever successfully completed until the last gate is closed, and 001 helped to wrap this one up.

Before the team returned to headquarters for a very late lunch, the good news was carried to Siobhan and Macree--Siobhan has a sister and Macree has an aunt!

Oh, and the calf has a name, too.  Wanna guess what it is?

Monday, April 29, 2013

Talking Turkey

Our keets and turkey poults are getting in some practice flights in the brooder house.  Only the keets showed off today (mainly because they're more timid and want to stay away from me), but the turkeys fly all over when they want to.

The keets like to sit on top of the brooder box--warm toes, I guess.

When I get too close, one takes off . . .

Airborne!
Misty waited outside the brooder house for me to finish feeding.  She's a very patient dog and goes through life in a very zen way, strolling majestically,  gently biting Zephyr on the scruff of the neck to stop her when she's barking, never hurrying when she's called.
 
Misty followed me down to the mailbox to get the morning paper and waited with me while I admired the view.

Something caught her attention, and she began strolling toward the fence between the orchard and the pasture.

Suddenly the zen-like attitude disappeared as Misty broke into a run and a pair of wild turkeys burst into flight.

Misty did her best . . .
. . . but they escaped unscathed.  Now if she'll only do like that with the hawk I've seen hanging around.  She knows who belongs here and who doesn't!
The wild turkeys duly vanquished and the newspaper in hand, Misty and I headed back up to the house, all nice and zen again.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Sheep May Safely Graze

Harpist Helen Maxwell has a heavenly version of this Bach cantata on YouTube.  Enjoy it while you read.

This is the sight that greeted me this morning as I looked out the back door.  Misty successfully spent her first night in with the sheep--and they are already friends!  That's Obaama, barely visible right next to Misty.  It looks like she has overcome their suspicion.  Way to go, Misty!

Yesterday they were enjoying the shade of their serape awning, but this morning it was chilly enough that they were glad to soak up some sun.

Even though they both stand up when I get near--just in case they decide to run--they're very calm. They've settled in nicely to their new home.
Such a sweet face!





Ping is so glad for the company!  Rambo (at left) is a little bigger, and Obaama (at right) is a little shyer.  He's wearing a DE moustache from licking the pan of DE with a tiny bit of salt and feed mixed in.

It's such a relief to know that, thanks to Misty's presence, our sheep may safely graze through the night.

Sleep tight, sheep!