Me and My Kubota RTV

Macree wasn't the only one who gave me a present for my birthday.  Herb completely overwhelmed me by announcing that since I couldn't think of anything I wanted, he was taking me shopping for my present . . . at Buddy Boykin's Kubota dealership in Rainsville, Alabama to get me . . . an RTV!

An RTV is Kubota's version of a UTV (think John Deere Gator or Kawasaki Mule) but better!  Don't ask me why Kubota thought up a hard-to-remember name like "RTV"--unless they were thinking it stood for "Really Terrific Vehicle!  Since I have a hard time remembering "RTV," I call it my "Doodad."  I haven't heard it complain.

My particular Doodad happens to be a Kubota RTV900 Worksite model.  Just to show that girls can talk "tractor," too, it has a 3-cylinder diesel engine with 898 cc displacement (enough to haul our loaded ABI manure spreader) and 21.6 HP.  It has a 7.4 gal. fuel capacity, a VHT Plus (Variable Hydrostatic Transmission--no shifting), has 4WD and 3 gears plus reverse, and a hydraulic dump cargo bed with a capacity of over 1100 lbs.  Its top speed is 25 miles per hour, but that actually feels like flying on our gravel roads!  This is a WORK HORSE, not a "play pretty" as our Alabama neighbor called his bright yellow ATV that tops out at 67 mph.

Herb was in class all day on the 9th when Boykin had the optional top ready, so I hauled the trailer all the way to Rainsville to pick up my Doodad and bring it home.  Herb did hitch the trailer to the truck for me, and Bronson Lee backed it for me at the dealership.  We gals gotta make sure the guys still feel useful!  :)

Driving my Doodad on its first sortie, I had to laugh at the guinea fowl scattering in front of it and the turkeys running alongside in the pasture.  This is what's been running through my head:

"Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry,
When I take you out in my surrey,
When I take you out in my surrey with no fringe on top.
Watch those birds and see how they flutter
When I drive my high-rollin' strutter;
All those horses make it more than putter--
Yeah, your eyes will pop!
The wheels are rugged, the upholstery's smooth,
It feels like genuine leather.
It doesn't have a windshield but I don't care,
The top will keep out the weather!
Two bright headlights winkin' and blinkin';
Ain't no finer rig I'm a thinkin';
You can keep yer rig if yer thinking that I'd keer to swap
Fer my shiny little surrey with no fringe on the top!



Our first errand was to go check on Sara and Tundra.

I told Herb we could have used my Doodad instead of the Toyota Tundra for our whole secret op to get Tundra and Sara to a safer pasture.  On second thought, I'm glad we didn't have it yet because I don't think either "RTV" or "Doodad" would be a very nice name for a calf!

Later that day Herb and I used the Doodad to take a new water tank out to the Back Pasture and fill it up for Cash and family.  Feed bowls full of feed, a new heavy-duty hose, plumbers' tape, a pliers, and the large water tank all fit comfortably in back of the Doodad and made the job easy.

This morning Herb told me he hadn't seen Cash, Siobhan or Macree out in the Back Pasture and would I mind checking on them.  Doodad and I were up for the job!  I found out that the cattle had gotten through the electric fence (which someone forgot to turn on!) into the back part of the pasture, but they came running when they heard the Doodad coming.  It's taken about two days for them to figure out that nice rumbling Kubota means FOOD!

I took the opportunity to tie everyone one up and get some photos, as well as get in some time working with Macree. While everyone was tied up, I grabbed some fly spray out of my Doodad Kit (more on that below) and gave everyone a good dose of fly prevention.

When I first suggested the idea of getting a UTV to Herb several years ago, I said it would be useful around the farm.  It can do a lot of jobs that we usually use the larger tractor or truck for, and it would cause less damage to the pastures, besides being more convenient.

Lately Herb has seen that sometimes it's difficult for me to get around with my bad leg, and that's why he decided to get me the RTV.  But I still wanted him to know that it's USEFUL, not just a toy, and that's how I thought of my Doodad Kit.  That's it above, held in with Kubota-orange bungie cords.

The Doodad Kit is a Steri-lite box that I bought at WalMart for about $20.  It has a latching lid that will keep water out, although I don't plan to leave the Doodad out in the weather.

Inside the Doodad Kit are all the things I could think of that might be useful when we're out and about.  You know, those "Darn! if I only had such-and-such with me I could do this-or-that" moments.

I tried to think of as many scenarios as I could and proceeded to outfit my kit:

• Plastic container of horse treats
• Cow fly spray
• Horse fly spray
• Wasp spray
• Weed killer spray (NOT Round-up!)
• Extra spray bottle in case one of the others quits working
• Orange hay twine rolled up in a baggie
• Two sizes of calf halters
• A red lead rope (so I remember it belongs in the Doodad)
• A red first aid kit with iodine, tape, sunscreen and insect repellant
• Vinyl-palmed gloves in a baggie
• Ladies' work gloves in a baggie
• 12 pairs of disposable plastic gloves in a baggie
• A DNA test kit in a stackable plastic box with alcohol, pliers for pulling tail hairs, plastic baggies, a Sharpie for putting cows' name on baggie, and a roll of tape for adhering pulled hairs to.
• A tattoo kit for ears in a stackable plastic box with the tattoo clamp, letters, numbers, and ink.  Note to self:  Add some disposable gloves!
• A tool kit in a stackable plastic box with pliers, 4-way screwdriver, wire cutter, a pocket knife and a few handy hooks and O-rings.  A fencing pliers that is too big for the box has a spot nearby.

A Kubota baseball cap in the front seat, a grocery bag bungied to the Doodad's frame to hold garbage, and a walking stick/snake stick in the back complete my Doodad Kit.

There might be some eventuality my Doodad and I aren't ready for, but I'd be surprised!  Herb and I were out in the pasture the other day when we noticed that Sara had taken Tundra into the (open) round pen in their pasture.  "Hey," I said, "let's take advantage of Sara being in there and get her in the head gate."

It took a lot of patience along with several whacks from a rotten branch on Sara's nose when she charged Herb, plus a lot of sweat waiting in the hot sun for Sara to relax and take the food bait . . . but once Herb hid out of sight and I backed away far enough, she stuck her head out for the food, and I nabbed her.  We wiggled Tundra along Sara's side and out the back of the chute, got a halter out of the Doodad to help hold her, pulled out the DNA kit and got tail hairs from both girls, pulled out the tattoo kit and tattooed Tundra, then loaded everything back in the Doodad along with the empty food bowl. Who knows when we would have gotten this job done if we hadn't happened to have everything we needed right in the Doodad?

I don't think I needed to worry too much, though, about convincing Herb that my Doodad really is useful.  A few minutes ago he came and asked me if he could use it to go get a load of his books from storage in Kara's house.  Of course he could!  There's enough Doodad for all of us to enjoy!

Family Snapshots

Here are some snapshots of our animal family from earlier this week.

We let the guinea fowl out of the brooder house on Sunday.  It took a couple hours for them to finally get over their fear and move out into the wide world!  We gave up watching long before that!

Cash surveys his little domain in the Home Pasture, while Sara grazes far away in the Lower Pasture.

After a couple of days in the chicken tractor, the turkeys enjoy their freedom.

One of the sheep gets up close and personal.

Macree loves her daddy Cash and usually stays close to him.  I guess every little girl goes through a stage as "Daddy's Girl!"

Sara and a little black dot who is Tundra enjoy their solitude.

Ping follows her new pasture-mates.

Ping has finally found someone lower on the totem pole than she is--that turkey is flapping away from Ping because she asserted her dominance over a soggy strawberry.  Misty likes to sit out near her charges, but she doesn't worry herself with their antics.

Sticking close to daddy.

The little family in the Home Pasture, right before we moved the cattle to the Far Pasture (in the distance).

The guineas have taken to roaming all around, but they seem to like to be near the turkeys, their former housemates.  The bird in front of the others got itself into the Home Pasture and couldn't figure out how to get out.  So the silly birds kept running up and down along the fence gabbling at each other until I went out in the pasture and shooed the lost bird through a gap to join its friends.

And finally, a close-up of Tundra, the newest member of the family, and mom Sara.

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.

How Many Lives Does a Turkey Have?

I think one of our turkey poults heard that (tom) cats have nine lives and decided he does, as well, since he's a Tom, too!

When Herb got up Friday morning, he went to check on the babies, and one had flown out of the box and was sitting on the dryer.  When he saw Herb, he tried to get away and fell down behind the dryer.  So when I got up we had to pull out the dryer and rescue the adventurous bird.  Eight lives left!

We had swept the brooder house and sprayed it with a bleach solution Thursday evening and left it to air overnight.  It's tightly screened with hardware mesh to keep predators out, and it has a latch and a hook to secure the door so no handy raccoons can get in.

On Friday morning, we replaced the tarp that we use to cover the floor and weighted it down with pieces of 2x4 lumber to keep it from moving.

In one corner is the brooder box which is very useful while the birds are young.  It's much easier to heat the inside of a small box than a large, screened room!

Zooming in closer you can see that the top of the brooder box is a handy metal piece which we found laying in the hay barn after we moved in.  It's got a hole that's perfect for dropping in a heat lamp without it touching anything flammable.  It can be raised or lowered according to the amount of heat needed for the birds.  The bungie strap is adjustable and supports the weight of the lamp so it's not hanging by its cord.

Peeking through the hole, you can see the birds below, basking in the warmth of the heat lamp.  It was just our luck that the night we moved them into the brooder house, the temperature dropped into the 30's!  Turkey poults and keets are both fragile and need to be kept very warm, so obviously something more was needed.

First I covered most of the hole on top with a few pieces of spare lumber to help hold the heat in.  Next I got a thrift store throw that we usually use to protect plants in the garden, and I folded it over the opening of the brooder box, weighting it on top to hold it in place.

The birds had already huddled in the far corner to stay warm.  I set their waterer up on a block of wood to keep it out of the shavings and moved it close to the heat lamp so the water would stay warm enough for the turkeys.  I also moved a feeding tray full of chick starter in where the birds could reach it.

The final thing I did was to hang the brooder thermometer under the heat lamp so I could monitor the temperature.  Then I dropped the blanket back in place and left.

When Herb went out to shut up the hens and put Misty in with her charges for the night, he came back and told me it had gotten really cold outside.  "I think I better just go check on the babies," I said.  On a whim I grabbed two more garden throws from the garage, got a flashlight, and headed out to the brooder house.

I added an extra throw in front of the opening, and then I noticed red light escaping from the back of the brooder box.  I took the second throw and went back to cover up the gaps that were letting heat escape.  As I tucked the throw in well so it would stay, I happened to look down between the side of the box and the side of the brooder room.  In the dim flashlight glow I saw a dark lump that I hadn't seen when I laid the 2x4's down to hold the tarp.

Sure enough, it was a turkey!  He had gotten out from under the blanket and gone exploring, then couldn't find his way back, and there he sat in a huddled heap.  I scooped him up, and he didn't even struggle, but as soon as I set him back under the heat, he got up and moved to join his buddies.  I was so thankful I had gone out to check because he would certainly have died from the cold.  Before I left, I grabbed another piece of 2x4 and weighted both blankets down in front of the brooder box so no one else could escape.  Seven lives left!

Saturday night I decided to make another bedtime check on the birds to be sure they were warm enough.  My system was working well, and despite the cold the thermometer was staying at a toasty 85°--but there was another problem.

Since some of the keets seemed to have a hard time with the concept of sticking their heads inside the holes of the red plastic feeder, I had replaced it with a more open metal feeder.  The strip of metal down the middle, which I call a "vane" is made to rotate if the birds try to perch on it.  It spins and tips them off so they can't roost there pooping in their food!

Somehow, this suicidal turkey (I'm assuming it's the same one, although they could be taking turns) had gotten himself UNDER the metal vane.  Only one wing was free, and he was laying on his side with his legs splayed out.  He was wedged in there so tightly that I had to pry the ends of the feeder apart and remove the vane before I could get him out.  He hopped right up and ran off, but I doubt he would have made it all night.  Six lives left!

I've heard people say turkeys are hard to raise.  I'm beginning to see why the hatcheries make you buy 15--they want to be sure you have one left by Thanksgiving!  I'm also beginning to think that, as curious and friendly as they are compared to the keets, turkeys must be pretty stupid!  After all, you've never heard of a Thanksgiving chicken, have you?   

More New Babies for 2013

These babies were completely unexpected and unplanned!  I stopped at our local farm and garden store to check out their plants, and loud chirping attracted my attention.

"Do you, by any chance, have . . . ?" I asked as I peered into the cages full of baby chicks.  And they did.  And now they don't have any, but we do!  Check out our babies:

No, they're not chicks.

There are 5 keets, the little light-colored ones with racing stripes on their heads and coral-colored beaks. "Keets" are baby guinea fowl, and they will be our Tick Disposal Squad.  They're the ones singing the happy little song you can hear.  They will free range and be shut up at night in the old Gypsy Coop.  I plan to locate it near the kids' play area.  That was one dumb tick that came crawling up to me the other day as I sat there with the kids!  Because now I've got Guineas!

There are also 3 poults, slightly larger and darker with lighter beaks and blotchy heads.  "Poults" are baby turkeys, in this case Bronze-Breasted Turkeys.  They aren't making any noise, but I understand that's the sign of a happy poult!  They will be pastured with the sheep (and hopefully all the chickens) when they're old enough.  And no, they're not pets . . . they're an early investment in a good Thanksgiving.