Farm Tales

Old Cow Pony

In his day he moved cows from here to there, traveled many a mile with his rider riding fences, checking water holes.  Never complaining of his chore going to where he was told high or low he traveled the miles always reaching his destination .  Again to return another day moving along at a steady pace for his rider through the vast open country with nothing around expect sage brush, desert winds , cattle and an occasional band of wild horses.

A true friend he is, up early and staying up late always looking after his rider, placing each hoof to safety return them both from a long and dusty day.  His days of riding are through, he grazes daily in his older years, put out to pasture they would say. He moves slower, older in appearance in his 29th year.

He has days of grazing and enjoying a slow life are his.  He can look out to the mountains not far away and still remember many a mile he traveled with a friend that now takes care of him.

A well-deserved end of life for a dear old friend,” Buzz” the cow pony.

 

Farm Tales

Doc Holiday, “I’m your Huckleberry”

Every farm needs a farm cat, well meet Mr. Holiday actually Doc Holiday or just Holiday or just Mr. He’s not the only farm cat, he is the Farm Cat just ask him he’ll say “I’m your Huckleberry” which in his case means I’m the cat your looking for, cat in charge.  Mr. Holiday found us a few years back, he was wondering the isles of a Holiday market, he followed patrons into the store and was put out a few times always returning, he acted like he owned the place.  Of course no one claimed him, so I scooped him up he was little then, and packed him around why we finished our shopping.  There differently was some odd looks wondering why we were taking our kitten shopping, we made the store manager happy he was no longer concerned he’d have to deal with the little guy.  We told the manager where to find him If anyone came looking, here we are today with 12 pounds of cat that thinks he really is a “Huckleberry”.

Notice those notches in his ear, came by them naturally keeping all the stray cats away, he does have one flaw, he thinks he’s still small enough to sit on your shoulder or back or what ever else he can jump on from the fence post he sitting on near by. Oh yeah, and If you don’t pay attention to him when you walk by, well he’ll take care of that by reaching out with his big paw with open claws and grabbing a hold of anything he can, bare skin included. Ok maybe that’s two flaws, he really is a good cat and he knows his business, keeping mice and ground squirrels away.  He’s loves to be scratched under the chin, he could do that all day.  Ever a need for a claw slinging cat at the farm corral, he’s your Huckleberry Doc Holiday.

Farm Tales

Meet the Girls

Meet the girls, really these are the most spoiled chickens you could have when they were just chicks of course we raised them in the laundry room, Who wouldn’t right? Well my son is the chicken whisperer, he raised chickens and guinea hens when he was in high school and he has this connection with birds.  Well, that being said he started feeding them oat meal out of his hand, and he’d make this sound calling them to eat, something like a cluck but I can’t do it.

Guess what happened next, uh yep as chicks they would jump up into his hands and eat the oatmeal, but they got bigger then all he had to do was hold out his hand and “cluck” or “took took” (kinda sounds like that) and they’d jump into his hand .  He can still call them to him, and yes they will even try to fly up to his arm, crazy.

Well I like feeding them in the feeders, and sprinkle some on the ground, thanks to the chicken whisper they have to have oatmeal everyday twice a day with their regular feed or the squawking sound gets so loud you can’t stand being in the barn!

It’s a good thing their good layers, because one can only take so much from eight squawking hens, I understand the saying being pecked to death by chickens except in my case it’s being squawked to death or at least to deaf!

Farm Tales

Max The Guardian

This is our Maximus “Max” for short, Great Pyrenees and Akbash the day we brought him home two years ago @ three months old weighing 25 pounds.  He’s a guardian dog which means his job is to keep predators off the farm.  He was born in a goat barn to establish his guardian traits at a young age. Max is a wonderful dog, he’s two years old, he’s matured into a large 125 pounds of serious stuff when it comes to protecting his place, no stray dog gets past Max or skunk or muskrat. Although he does have a soft spot for kids, he loves the grand kids.  Max loves my husband too, where ever my husband is on the farm, Max is there too, all I have to do is see Max (can’t miss him) and there my husband will be. My husband would never admit it, but Max is his favorite too.

This is our Max today, doing what he likes best getting up high so he can see everything is “Ok” on the farm.