As The Butter Churns

November 8th Git Along Little Dogies

 (a beaver sighting across the pasture and after closer investigation I located a dam! Not at the pond - but in our creek)

    When we woke up on Sunday morning, Henry couldn’t see outside. “It’s like a carwash out there.” Not our usual. Sure Washington is known for it’s rain and most people complain about it constantly to keep the tourists away, but truly we usually get a misty rain. Only tourists carry “dumbrellas” as Tom calls them. In fact, I’m not quite considered local wearing a hood as I do on occasion. I asked a customer at the Everybody Store if she shouldn’t put on her jacket to go to her car with the downpour we were having. She turned and smiled over her shoulder at me as she put me in my place. “I’m from Washington. It’s not like I expect to stay dry.”

    Now almost full-blown Washingtonians it was time to bring our cows home. Weather or not. Armed with determination, some lead ropes and a bucket of grain. The boys and I followed my neighbor Dave’s instructions to his house. We turned left on the logging road and proceeded straight. He’d opened the metal arm that normally blocks any misguided motorists from venturing deep into the forest.

    “Hasn’t it been at least a mile?” Nick wondered as he drove carefully down the gravel road.

    “Maybe we missed it?” Henry added. “Maybe we were supposed to turn back there where it forked.”

    “Nope, there’s the old dump truck he was talking about.”

    “Wow that is an old dump truck. And look at that old horse trailer,” Henry noted.

    “Doesn’t look like he likes visitors much,” Nick said taking heed of the signs.

 (the welcome marker)

 (On the logging road)

 (Private Property)

    We all looked at each other. He’d seemed like a nice guy on the phone, but here I was driving into the forest with two kids. I felt as though I might be embarking into some terrifying thriller. As we crept a long I tried convincing myself Jack Nicholson was not just around the bend. I swear if either boy had said, “Redrum” we would have been out of there.

    My breathing resumed when the cows came into view. I opened the window and yelled “Abe! Andy!” and they came running with that clinking, clanking sound. Smiles and excitement filled the car. Our cows loved us! Our cows missed us! Our cows were coming home!

 (Abe and Andy come a runnin')

    We hopped out of the car and introduced ourselves to the mule eyeing us. “His name is Pablo,” Dave said walking up. “He’s a troublemaker,” he added laughing.

    “What does he do?” Henry asked.

    “Well, I can’t keep him in with my cows, Peggy and Tucker because he chases them. He’ll run poor Peggy into a frenzy. He likes to stir things up.” Dave explained.

    “Will he hurt them?” Nick asked.

    “Actually, I think he just wants to play,” Dave said with a smile.

 (Pablo eyes us)

 (Pablo says hello)

 (Pablo is a water boy)

 (Pablo in the creek)

 (Pablo in the creek)

 (Pablo examines a rock)

 (Pablo with Dave's house in the background)

 (my neighbor Dave)

    We all chatted a bit with rain dripping down our faces “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

    “Oh since the early seventies. I grew up in Bellingham.”

    “You don’t have internet do you?”

    “Not yet.”

    “Electricity?”

    “When I turn on the power switch.”

    “Heat?”

    “Wood. I do have a propane tank, but I try not to use it.”

    “Running water?”

    “The best water ever, from the creek.”

    “Television?” I asked doubtfully.

    “I have that! When I turn on the power and I am thinkin’ about getting the Internet. I guess you have it?”

    “I’m from Los Angeles,” was all I said and all I needed to say. I felt very techie. “And I thought my home was quiet, all you hear out here is the forest I’ll bet.”

    “And my chickens.” He pointed toward the house where they were out in the rain pecking at the grass.

    “Gnatalie sure has played a lot with Peggy’s calf, Tucker,” Dave said. “I’m sure he’s going to miss her and Peggy, she’s a natural mother. She loved having all the company. These fellas have been a real kick. That one there he moos the minute he sees me coming.” Dave said wistfully.

 (Nick petting Gnat)

 (Abe, Gnatalie and Abe)

 (Pretty Peggy)

 (baby Tucker)

 (the herd)

    “That’s Abe he’s a chatty one.”

    “I’ll say he’s chatty.” Dave grinned.

    Henry not wanting to waste any time or an opportunity, he had proceeded walking toward Mosquito Lake Road with our three cows behind him. Gnatalie was our “Norman”.

    Just as Gnatalie left the far point of the pasture fence, she realized she was being lured away from her precious surrogate mama, Peggy, and her beloved playmate, Tucker. She turned back at full tilt. She arrived back at the gate planting herself in the mud. It was apparent there was going to be no moving her today. She started mooing for Peggy who mooed back.

 (Gnatalie on the run)

    As I watched I couldn’t help but feel sad. She’d much rather be with these two than our boys. It was no surprise, but I felt badly for her. “We’ve been struggling whether or not to get Gnatalie’s grandmother and her new calf. I guess the decision’s made.” I said.

    “Well, she’s no trouble at all. Why don’t you just leave her here until you get them?” Dave suggested in a might neighborly way.

    “That’s really kind of you. It makes me sad she’d rather be here than with our two cows, but I’ve known all along they really didn’t accept her.”

    Dave put Gnatalie back in with her new family. Henry had gotten quite a ways with the boys by now so I bid Dave good-bye and hurried to catch up with him. Nick brought up the rear in the van.

 (Peggy, Gnatalie and Tucker)

 (Henry, Abe and Andy)

(Henry and the boys)

 (Andy on the way home stopping for a bit of grain- Nick driving the van)

 (Abe and the van)

    Here we were on a cattle drive with 255 horses. OK so we had the van, a girl can dream. I imagined Roy Rogers warbling a campfire tune. Henry walked on sans harmonica giving the boys little tastes of grain along the way. It was going almost too easily until we hit the pipeline trail; which was the route they took from our house to Dave’s. Abe and Andy stopped and almost pointed as if we were too stupid to know the way home. I might have gone that way, but Nick was driving the van and if we went that way he’d have to drive on Mosquito Lake Road by himself.

 (Abe and Andy - point to the pipeline trail where the silver gate is-)

     I considered that if Henry and I had any trouble Nick wouldn’t be with us and wouldn’t know what was going on. I decided everyone should stay together. The cattle complied and we all went on. I broke into a lame version of “Home on the Range”, imagining I was Mrs. Barkley. I figured Henry for Heath and Nick seemed the well, to be Nick.  We were walking and singing until we got to the road. It was then I could hear my sister’s words in the back of my head as soon as the cows spooked. “Cows don’t like a change in footing, that’s why cattle guards work.” I was still surprised because they’d been on the road plenty of times and had no problem. Of course, that was  by our house, but I guess for whatever reason in their cagey cow minds this was different. Very different.

    Suddenly it was cows gone wild. A cattle drive gone berserk. They ran up and down, racing in between trees, up the hill down the hill and then they were gone. Gone. Henry and I ran into the forest, and for a while we could hear them but we couldn’t see no longer see them. Suddenly, I realized we were in the middle of the forest without a weapon of any kind. We walked to the road and motioned for Nick to join us in the car. Only Nick didn’t see us because he was too busy listening to his ipod to notice. We trudged back and told him to drive back toward Dave’s.

    “You really think you’re going to find them?” Nick was in complete disbelief.

    “What choice do we have? I don’t want them gone for good. I’m worried. Thank goodness they have the bell.” I told him. “They’re lost in the forest. They could break a leg.”

    “At least Gnatalie’s not with them.” Nick said kindly.

    “Yeah, that would be a lot worse.”

    We drove back with our windows down listening for the bells. I got out and started looking at one of the forks. I figured I might see their tracks and determine if they’d been this way. I was scanning the mud just as a small car pulled up and rolled its window down.

    “YOU LOOKIN’ FOR THE OXEN” the woman shouted unnecessarily.

    “Uh, yeah.” Nick answered quietly looking at her as if she was insane.

    “THEY”RE UP THE NEXT LOGGIN’ ROAD!” She hollered again and sped off.

    I walked back to the van and we continued looking for our little lost cows. We took the logging road and ended up in a creepy deserted place filled with strange little statues. “Redrum” kept running through my mind. “Uhh, let’s go back to Dave’s,” I told Nick.

    “Good idea.” He agreed readily. “This place is hella trippin.’”

    “What are those anyway? Goats?” Henry asked hesitantly and “Who put them there.”

 (strange statues)

    “And why?” Nick asked. “ARE YOU LOOKIN’ FOR THE OXEN?” Nick started and Henry joined in. “ARE YOU LOOKIN’ FOR THE OXEN?” They screamed at the top of their lungs over and over as if this was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, until they broke into peels of laughter successfully breaking the strange little statue tension.

    By the time we got back to Dave’s, Abe and Andy were in the pasture calmly grazing on a bale of hay. We got out of the car and were chastising them when Dave walked up.

    “They found their way back and now that they’ve eaten, I don’t think there’s much chance of them going today.” He said. 

    “No I don’t’ either they got way too freaked out. We were almost home, only a tenth of a mile to the gate when wham. It was a cattle drive circus.”

    “Well, they can all stay here until we figure out what to do next. Anyway maybe we should try again in better weather.” He said brightly.

    “I can bring you some hay over.” I offered.

    “Naaa, I’m ok. Go home, get warm.” He said. “I’ll call a friend and see if we can borrow his trailer next week.”

    I wondered if he was smirking at the city slickers. No matter, I felt more inept than Billy Crystal at the moment.

 (Abe and Andy with their hay)
 
 

 

November 4th Little Runaway

 (fall slips into winter on highway 9)

    After a summer of long languid dusty dry evenings, it’s time to pay the piper. We wake up in the dark; we drive home in the dark and the rain. Nick is no longer confused as to why vampires are said to exist peacefully in Washington. He’s taking Vitamin D now to battle his constant desire to cuddle up in his Snuggie™ and go to sleep at 7:30.

    The endless rain and the resulting mud had gotten so miserable I let the cows out of the pasture. I was worried Gnatalie wasn’t eating because her little legs were too short to walk up to the hay feeder. The weight of the bigger boys churned the earth so deeply I was afraid she might get stuck or break a leg in the mud, so I let them roam around. I figured at this point Gnatalie was sufficiently part of the herd and the boys would take care of her. 

 (Miracle and Edward take a turn at the cows round bale feeder)

 (Gnatalie hears her name and comes a runnin')

 (Gnatilie on the way)

 (Gnatalie - giving me memories of Lefty and Pancho - but she doesn't even come up to my side mirrors)

 (On the other hand -Pancho a Milking Shorthorn- back in the day- his back obscured the roof line of my van)

    They seemed to really enjoy their renewed freedom, drinking from the pond and trotting around the property. One moment they’d be by the creek eating peacefully and the next they’d be across the pasture for no apparent reason. A few nights ago the boys and I came home and had just finished putting the barn animals to away and when we noticed there in the dark not more than a few yards away were Abe, Andy and Gnatalie. They’d bed down in the Kubota barn. Three enormous mammals were all lying there and we none of us had seen them nor felt their presence.

“What if they’d been cougar? We’d be dead. Dead I tell you. Ripped to shreds! What THE…” Nick started.

 (Andy, Gnatalie and Abe)

    “Nicky is right they are ambush predators.” Henry interjected. I too was amazed we could have missed animals their size even in the darkness. It was unnerving, but their quiet gentle presence made me think of the serenity of the Nativity. Entranced I walked over and couldn’t resist joining them. Henry, Nick and I chatted with them, pet and snuggled them. It was a magical kind of moment, and then we bid them goodnight and went in the house.

 (Gnatalie gets a scratch)

 (Gnatalie and me)

 (Gnatalie, Denise and Abe)

 (Gnatalie looks at Nick while she gets a little snuggle)


    The next few days, they bed down by the house. They seemed to be enjoying the company of the other animals and our comings and goings. We looked forward to seeing them, until the night the pesky equine, Edward and Miracle happened in like the mafia. They came in noses down pushing our docile friends aside, intent on taking over the territory. Gentle souls, Abe, Andy and Gnatalie gave up their beds and moved back down to the pasture bells clanging as they went.

     Tonight, when we got home, Henry hopped out of the car to open the gate and found a note thumbtacked to the latch.

    Scrawled in blue cursive was “I think I have your cattle at my house. I am just on the other side of the pipeline rd. from you. Call me – Dave”.

    “Someone has our cows?” I blurted to the boys.

    “What? They’re gone?” Nick said shocked.

    “Well, I don’t know, I mean I saw them the other day, but we leave in the dark and then we get home in the dark, I guess they could be.” I reasoned.

    “The bells, listen for the bells,” Henry said sensibly. We rolled down the windows, but all we heard was the wind blowing the leaves off the trees in the forest.

    “Have you ever noticed the wind in the trees sounds like a rushing river?” Henry asked.

    “I have noticed that and at times. A few times I’ve really thought it was the sound of a river. It’s kind of amazing. I don’t hear any bells. Do you? I think they really might be gone.”

    “What the hell. The cows ran away from home? Gnatalie! Where’s little Gnatalie?” Nick worried.

    “She’s probably with them they’re a herd now,” Henry assured him.

    My stomach churned as I dialed my neighbor Dave’s number. “Hello? My name’s Denise and I understand you might have my cows?”

    “Yeah that’s right. I think they’re yours. Two big guys and a little one?”

    “That’s them!”

    “I used to drive past your place everyday on my way to town before the bridge closed so I was pretty sure they were yours. One of them, the one with the bell.”

    “That’s Andy.”

    “Well, Andy broke into my pasture last night. I heard the bell. It’s a good thing you have the bell because I heard it and wondered what the heck it was. I went outside with my flashlight and saw him. He’d broken the fence to get in my pasture to be with my cow and her calf. The other two were just sitting on my lawn. I’ve never seen such friendly cows in my life. They just like to be pet and that little one. I just want to put her in my pocket.” He said with a laugh.

    “That’s them alright. I’m so sorry about your fence.” I said feeling terrible and wondering how I was going to pay for Andy’s escapades.

    “Oh that’s ok I fixed it. Now how you’re going to get them back I don’t know.”

    “Well, my biggest problem is when. I think I can get them home, but I just can’t go over and do it in the dark and I have to work.”

    “That’s ok I can keep them here and we can work it out this weekend.”

    “Really? That’s so nice of you. I can bring some hay by.”

    “Nahh, that’s ok I’ve got plenty of hay and I like having them around. The little one is playing with the calf, Tucker.”

    Well, thank you. I’ll give you a call and come by on Saturday morning then. I don’t know exactly where you are. I’ve never seen your house.”

    “That’s because I’m a mile back in the forest. It’s not hard to find, but I’ll better direct you Saturday. Otherwise you’ll end up at my brother-in-law’s place.”  As we hung-up I couldn’t help but chuckle.

    The phone rang, “What’s going on?” Tom asked expecting what I don’t know, but I assure you he did not expect.

    “Gnatalie and the boys ran away from home and are having a sleepover.” 

October 4th Heads Or Tails?

 (Gnatalie, with Abe and Andy together for a rare moment)

            Everyday when I look out on my pasture I see two beautiful deep red steer, Abe and Andy and then I scan the field for Gnatalie who is inevitably all alone half a field away. I feel like I’ve ruined her life. The boys tolerate her, but I’ve accepted that’s about as much as they’re going to do. I’m surprised, because I thought a female was a female was a female and with Anna gone they would latch onto Gnat, but they haven’t. Since when were males picky?

    Tom, Nick, Henry and I couldn’t take it any longer so this morning I called Susie at Pixie Forest Farm to see if there was any way we could swing a payment plan to add Veronica or Marie.

    Coincidently, Quinn had a soccer game near Seattle, so on our way to Lake Stevens, we met up with team Donaldson and took Phoebe with us to see baby cows.

    When we arrived Susie suggested we take a look at a little bull who was still intact and not yet weaned. “Heck if you just need a companion for Gnatalie then it really doesn’t matter if it’s a female. Steers are a lot cheaper.”

    “Cheaper is good.” I said open-minded as we walked over to the small herd.

 (Mama and new baby)

    “Oh my gosh they’re sooo itty-bitty,” Phoebe purred as she looked at some calves that were only a few days old. “I want to touch one.” She said as she tried to near each of the new babies, but they managed to stay just out of reach.

    “I don’t know, he looks a little like a pig,” Tom whispered. “Don’t you think? I still like Veronica better.”

    “And I like Marie,” Henry added. So after looking at the herd and getting introduced to Montana, one of Susie’s bulls, we headed over to Susie’s other field where Veronica, Marie were living.

 (Petite and her baby boy)

 (baby bull)

 (Montana with his curly hairdo)

 (Olive an unusually colored Dexter- she actually is olive)

 (Henry with Tom)

 (sniffing Henry)

 (Phoebe twirls around at Nick)

 (babies)

 (Phoebe- is 9?)

 Here piggy,piggy?)

    Veronica and Marie were as adorable as ever, but not nearly as tame as they had been on our last visit. Susie assured us she would be working with them again so they would be more people friendly when they’re ready to leave her.

    “The thing is, one of the reasons I don’t like Gnatalie down in the pasture with the boys is proximity. We just don’t spend the time with her we would if she was up in the yard.” I said.

    “It’s true, we just don’t walk down to the pasture and hang out.  And we don’t want her to lose her snuggliness. Henry piped up.

    Who’s that?”  Tom asked pointing to the black cow Henry was hugging. “I like her.”

 (Nick feeds the cows for Susie)

 (Marie chomping on dinner)

 (Tom is smitten with Veronica)

 (Henry and Maureen next to Ladybug - Gnatalie's mother)

 (Nick,Henry, and Maureen)

 (Nick, Henry & Phoebe with Marie)

    “That’s Maureen, I’d have a hard time selling her, she's wonderful but I have a completely different suggestion. Do you remember Petite? She was the mother of the little bull I was showing you. She has a problem with her udder during pregnancy it almost hangs on the ground and I don’t think I can breed her anymore so it’s either find her a home where she’s a pet or butcher her. And to tell you the truth I lover her so muchI don’t want to butcher her.”

    “Uh oh, Andy.” Tom interjected. Susie looked at me blankly.

    “That’s how we got Andy, he wasn’t originally part of the package, but they were calling him Hamburger and so she took him too.” Tom explained.

    “And Alexander,” Henry reminded us.

    "And Alexander.” Tom agreed

    “And Apache,” Henry interjected.

    “And Apache.” I agreed. Lord I was a soft touch. I could already feel myself leaning toward Petite. “Well, the thing I like is that she’s already used to people. I think it’s difficult to spend the time with each of them and I like the idea Gnatalie would have a companion she could look up to.” I rationalized.

    “But we really wanted a baby.” Nick said.

    “Well,” Susie started, “First off, I should also tell you Petite is Gnatalie's grandma and her baby is Gnatalie's uncle. I was thinking about you wanting a baby and thought maybe I could make it a package deal and send Petite with her little boy.”

    “Two? You’re going to get two?” Phoebe said wide-eyed and incredulous

    “I didn’t say that! And don’t you dare tell your mother that. She’ll lose it.”

    “Tell me." She said dryly. "You’re not at my house after she hangs up with you.” Phoebe said wisely.

    We all tumbled back into the van and headed back to Susie’s to see what we thought of Petite.  “Look I don’t think I want three Dexters. And frankly, I don’t know how much two would cost. I’m not sure I’d want them if she threew the baby in for free.”

    “Well, you’re the one who’d be doing most of the work.” Tom said rationally.

    “Do you still want Veronica?” I asked.

    “No. I really like her, but she’s got to be a lot more than Petite or maybe we should just take the little boy.”

    “What about Maureen? I like her,” Henry suggested.

    “Susie doesn’t want to sell her so she’s going to be a lot more money.” Tom explained.

    The phone rang. I knew it would be Lisa and Chris wondering where we were because Quinn’s soccer game was just about over. “So do you have a cow strapped to your luggage rack?” She said cracking herself up.

    “Uh, no. We’re not leaving here with a cow today.” I said confidently and firmly, knowing none of them were weaned and we couldn’t fit Petite in the back of the van.

    “How much longer?

    “We’re just going back to Susie’s other field to take one more look and then we’re on our way.” I assured her.

    “Okayyyy. See you soon.” She said with the distinct sound of doubt in her voice as though she really expected me to show up at Starbucks with a cow on the roof of my van. Perhaps not completely out of the question if I'm honest with myself.

    When we arrived at Susie’s I asked straight out, “What are the different prices of all these different options. You see, we have Gnatalie to think of, but we’re limited financially. I know Veronica and Marie are more expensive. Maureen, you don’t want to sell, so she’s got to be the most, but how much is Petite?”

    “Well, I want to make this worthwhile for you, so I was thinking of making Petite less than half of what it would cost to get Veronica or Marie and throwing her son in for free.”

    “A two-fer?” Tom snickered looking at me as though all choice had disappeared. He’s the one who made me get two kittens in exchange for getting rid of Leo the turtle. Now I did have a dilemma. But I know in the end, the purchase price of an animal is not how you can judge it’s real cost. We walked over and looked at Petite.  She certainly had a sweet face. The kids fed her and watched her baby nurse.

 (Susie and Petite)

 (Petite, Henry & Phoebe)

 (Phoebe and Petite)

    After awhile we got in the car and started north. “So what are some Irish boy names?” Tom asked. This was the kiss of death. I didn’t think there was any turning back once Tom started naming the little guy.

    “How about Max because his mom is Petite?” Henry suggested.

    The boys and Phoebe started brainstorming. “What about Shamus?” Nick suggested.

    “I like Shamus.” Tom agreed.

    “Phinneas?”

    “Finnegan? Killian? I actually know a tough, cuddly Killian." I joined in remembering my little student Sadie Buchenau's adorable brother.

    “I know, Aiden,” Henry called out.

    “Aiden? That’s a little All My Children.” I noted.

    “So were Stuart, Jasper and Phoebe Wallingford.” Henry said and Phoebe laughed batting her eyelashes.

    “What do you think of Clancy?” I said thinking of Clancy the clown in the Deck of Old Maid Cards. I have about six of them since my sister used to put them in my Christmas stocking year after year.

    “I like Clancy,” Tom said “it sounds friendly and it’s Irish.”

    “Are we doing the right thing” I wondered aloud?

    “Gnatalie needs company that’s for sure. It’s just which one.” Nick said firmly.

    “Nick’s right Gnatalie’s sad.” Phoebe pleaded.

    “She is Mom and you know it.”

    “And remember Petite is going to be butchered if we don’t take her. Do you really want to separate her from her baby? What kind of monster would that make you?” Tom asked. “You’d ruin her life too.”

 (heads and tails? Petite and nameless irish boy)

September 13 Nothing Much

 (Ron Johnson's own farmville)

I’d been letting the cows out into the open pasture where there has been plenty to eat all summer, but I’m nervous about Gnatalie roaming around and fall approaching the enclosed pasture is getting thin. The hay for the winter is on order, but Ron Johnson, my supplier has dedicated his trucks to delivering corn for the next couple of weeks. He said if I needed a bale before then I could certainly come down to Clear Lake and get one. One round bale should last at least two weeks, so Amy and I went to retrieve one in her truck. It’s a truck, but just barely. It’s what you might call a girl truck, but “Gunner Obama Carnahan” stood up to the test quite admirably. He’s been getting quite a workout lately what with swerving off the road to avoid deer and smashing through gates.

(Loading up)

(Amy and Gunner proudly haul the hay)

When we got back home the boys were awake. They got the tractor and together we unloaded the 500lb green marshmallow, killed poisonous arachnid hitchhikers and unwrapped our bundle. All the while Abe and Andy mooed relentlessly at the sight of lunch.  Gnatalie was a bit confused by the events, but stood by curious as ever wondering where she fit in. The moment the hay was in place and exposed the big boys went at it. Sadly, each time Gnatalie went up to eat they pushed her away. I know she’ll get her fill because they can’t stand there and guard the food, but we all felt terrible she’s been ostracized. We thought they’d embrace her not just begrudgingly tolerate her.

 (We unload)

 (Andy happily eats -Rachel- momentarily considers a snack)

“She has no friends,” Nick lamented. “She needs a friend, the goats don’t let her hang out with them, the sheep run from her and the boys push her away. Miracle chases her and Edward could care less.” He said commiserating with her as he scratched her forehead and kissed her.

“Yeah Mama, I think she needs a friend.” Henry chimed in. They were preaching to the choir, but I said nothing.

“Of course she needs a friend.” Amy agreed not being at all helpful.

(Gnatalie sniffs)

That task complete we started cleaning the barn. No wonder farmers had so many kids I thought wistfully, until I considered the farm mom position and the exponential amount of laundry required. I picked up a pitchfork and didn’t complain. Cleaning the barn is really fun. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You never want to start, but once you do, there are wonderful talks, laughs and songs. Everyone has his or her task, a shovel, a pitchfork or a tractor. This time, Amy made fun of Nicky-new-guy-on-the-block, taunting him for being “afraid of a little poop.”

 (Nick and Henry working hard)

 (Nick and Gnatalie take a walk)

 (Nick taking a tractor break)

(Mildred, Angus, Sheryl and Apache's hind end)

 (Curious turkeys - Franklin, Silence DoGood and Richard - all alias' for Benjamin)

(My Llloyd loves me again -preening)

 (Just before Gnatalie pinned Luther- poor Lu he just can't get a break)

 (Harpo aka Quackless, Lucille & Benny - the Cayugas)  

 (Bruno pounces through the wood shavings which are used as the bedding for all the barn animals)

We did more than half and broke for lunch. It was another hot day, but we sat in the cool shade of a tree on the lawn and enjoyed our sodas before putting the rest of the wood shavings in the goat section.

Our chores mostly finished, we decided it was time to sex the chickens they’re over two months old now. According to the books a two-month-old male is a broiler then a fryer and frankly a rooster is a male chicken over five-months-old. Roosters can be a vicious lot and we didn’t want another gory chicken attack. Losing Michael was enough. The farm rule of thumb appears to be one rooster to approximately eight hens.

Determining hens from roosters seemed like a simple task on the outset. After all every kindergartner knows what a rooster looks like but then again they’re taught sheep say “baaa” and that’s clearly wrong.

Cluck-Cluck crows and carries on as expected. He is clearly a rooster.  However, there are others that don’t at least not yet. Hens should be the plump ones without the combs and the waddle handing down. Or so we thought. It seems some breeds have a waddle and some breeds don’t get a comb at all. Sometimes females have both combs and waddles.

We began by putting all the chickens in the outside chicken run. Then one by one we assessed, scrutinized, photographed and determined rooster or hen. The boys went inside to boy’s town, not the place you want to end up.

After all was said and done we thought or think we have eleven roosters, but we’re just not sure. We’d like to keep three males, one of each breed so we could have chicks one day. The rest have to be terminated I guess. There isn’t much room in anyone’s barnyard for troublemakers. I’ll never order a straight run again. I’ll only go to the hatcheries that offer a pre-sexed selection, because this whole process is nasty. I wish I didn’t care, but I don’t want to ring their necks, and Tom has informed me he won’t. So now I have to do something to cull the flock. “I know I’ll put them on Craigslist under free stuff. Maybe someone will want them. I’m sure they’re good eatinin,” I said ruefully.

Now who to keep? After much discussion we think we’re getting rid of Cluck-Cluck because he’s so aggressive and keeping Julius Caesar over the other nameless Red Dorking, we’re going to have to see how their combs develop. In the Russian Orloff category we’re thinking of keeping Chestnut over Boris Orloff. In the Golden Hamburg slot we’re pretty clear we want to keep Armstrong over Speedy. We’ll see we want prime specimens and calm gentle birds.

 (Red Dorkings - Julius and No-name)

 (Girl? or Boy?)

 (Amy and some unidentified Golden Hamburgs)

 (Mrs. Cluck-Cluck)

 (Nick and Boris - who is -going to be someone's dinner - gentle with people, but aggressive toward other males)

(they're everywhere)

(Nick, Henry and Chestnut)

The warm sunny day begged for a trip to the pond and another visit with Gnatalie, plus a little chat with Sir Edward and Miracle who were grazing down by the dry creek bed. While we made our way over we realized we were being followed. Some people have a dog who tags a long behind them and some people have four dogs and a nosy-body goat like Rachel. Funny, she never used to leave the goatherd, but I think her daughter, Christina, has usurped her crown. Now the Queen Mum Rachel wanders around a bit by herself.

Suddenly a rock tossing-tossing challenge was issued. The goal was to toss rocks into Poncho and Lefty’s old practice tire the they used to haul around behind them when they were doing oxen stuff. Now it just sits in the pasture as impromptu seating and a mosquito larvae breeding ground. As I hadn’t received my softball throwing lessons from Awesomez yet I bowed out of the competition. Amy, though determined, didn’t have a chance. Henry won easily over Nick. A lazy kind of day, we made our way to the pond and looked at muddy animal tracks.

(Amy and Miracle kiss)

 

(Miracle wants to give a little smooch)

(Miracle mugs for the camera)

 (Amy tossses)

 (Nick tosses)

 (Nick and Henry checking out all the new life in the pond)

 (Henry messing around)

(Swimmy)

(Nick and a froglet)

(Nick takes a stick and tickles Rachel's tail - he's found a way to make her wiggle it.)

 (bear scat?)

 (closer examination of contents)

(Rachel follows)

On the way back, Nick found scat on the rocky path.  Fascinated, we took a good close look trying to determine what animal was traipsing around at night so close to the house.  Primarily made up of apple remnants we’re pretty sure it was a black bear who’d been raiding our trees.

This prompted the idea of picking apples and pressing cider. The cider press was wheeled out of the family room and put into position next to the wine rack in the kitchen. The boys went out and excitedly began gathering baskets full of apples. Henry cut while Nick turned the crank. Then Nick cut while Henry turned the crank. Apple chunks sunk out of sight.  The press was tightened with both boys using a 2 x4 for leverage. As the cloudy golden liquid with the sweet tangy taste filled the bucket, both boys gulped it down until they couldn’t drink another drop.

 (Henry chops apples)

 (Nick pressing cider)

 (Vivian watches)

After that, we did some laundry, the boys shot paintball guns for awhile, we put the animals away and Amy came over for our Sunday night family dinner.

We all sat down for dinner at the dining room table. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do,” I said, as I portioned out a Weight Watcher serving of spicy meatloaf for myself while “Deli is a real problem. Sure she’s sweet and lovable when she’s in the house, but she lures the other dogs off on her jaunts and then I have to hear her killing things in the middle of the night. The other night, she opened the door, let herself out and went out on a run. She was slaughtering some poor animal in the hills behind the barn. She’s like a serial killer, she doesn’t kill to eat, she just kills and kills and kills. Even a cougar will pass when it’s not hungry, but not Deli. When I heard the commotion I went outside and got in the van to see if I could stop it, the screams of the dying animal were horrible, but I didn’t have any effect. I can’t let the turkeys out if she’s on the loose or the ducks. I can’t contain her and I’m at my wits end. I am ready again to give her away.”

“Umm, I promised Andrew I wouldn’t get anymore animals,” Amy said softly, “but how about if I foster her?” Amy unexpectedly suggested. She can’t get out of the dog run by my apartment, and she loves coming over there. I think she still thinks it’s her house. I can take her on walks and.. .”

“Sounds great! What a fabulous idea!” I said cutting her off. I was so happy I couldn’t believe it.  She’d more than redeemed herself from the Gnatalie comment. “I can give you her dog bed, and supply the food. She can leave tonight. She’ll be excellent company and protection for you. It would be such a load off my mind you have no idea.”

I packed up a little package and a wiggly Deli walked over to Amy’s on a leash. Deli though a hound really prefers being an only dog. She’s shy and won’t ask for attention like the other pooches. Irish assaults you with his paw when he feels left out. Vivian bowls you over, Bruno races around leaping in the air and Luther bays, cries, whines or sits on your feet, but Deli sits in the distance patiently waiting. I watched them walk over and thought my father would be pleased.

The boys and I ended our weekend by settling into watch “Desperate Crossing The Untold Story of the Mayflower”.  Nick has American History this year and I’m going to pack in the learning one way or another. We’d just seen a whole segment on European prisons in the 1600s when the phone rang. It was for Nick. I could hear him giving the requisite teenage answers to questions about how he was.

“Fine…Yeah…It’s better…No…This weekend? Uhhh, nothing much,” he said absently.

“Nothing much? Nothing much?” I beat him with a pillow.

 (Emmet disagrees with Nick)

September 2nd Chicken Little

   (Luther relaxes in the shade of the hot summer sun)

     I am a Virgo. This might not mean much to you if you are not a Virgo, but if you are then you know what it means. It means I prepare for months so I know that when my birthday comes I can be at peace. I clean closets over the summer and organize the garage. I try to get all these things done so that my house will be in order when I inevitably age another year. This year I did not succeed in completing all these tasks. My closet was started, but never finished. The garage although cleaned has been ravaged by multiple children looking for a variety of books, colored pencils and junk drawer organizers. Although the railing and the eves were painted, the porch never got sanded nor stained. My bathroom drawers were completed, but the files and the guest room were not. This is how I tally my life. I think given half a chance, I could have been a type-A , if it weren’t for the animals. In fact, I used to have nightmares about heel marks made by my roommate Shannon’s shoes. The animals and the kids made my life messy enough to enjoy. But here the day before my birthday with dishes in the sink and the laundry undone, I realized that if I couldn’t finish the house then I needed to concentrate on cleaning up me, and I truth be known needed to be completely detailed. I must dye my greying hair, and get a pedicure.

    In the morning, I did get my hair handled and thought I was off to a good start. We thought we’d let Irish out so he could come with us to the pond, well the hole in the ground formerly known as the pond. No sooner did the over-amped extra-large pup start romping around than he decided he’d chase petite Gnatalie. I wasn’t worried at first, she’s a pretty tough cookie, but she got scared and took off. And that was the beginning of the day I wish had never started.

    Gnatalie ran half out of her mind doing laps around the apple trees and then in blind fear she blast through the wire fence ripping her lip open. Irish followed with glee having no idea he was terrorizing the poor bovine. Luckily, at this point Gnatalie found refuge with Abe and Andy through the open pasture gate where she settled down. Irish was quickly rounded up and Gnatalie taken up to the barn for treatment. We cleaned her up a bit and put a little Neosporin™ on her wound.

    As I looked the fence over it became clear, that even though I'd just put it up with Alexis, I was going to have to put up a whole new one. Fixing this one with the same kind would be just throwing good money after bad. A wood fence was needed.

(Gnatalie's injury)

(Henry gets Gnatalie cleaned up)

    Eventually we got to the pond minus Irish, and were happy to see at least some water remained. Things seemed to be looking up when Henry dug a little at an underground spring and increased the flow noticeably.

(Nick, Bruno and Vivian check out the "pond")

(Vivian wades in)

(entrance to Wally's old beaver lodge - usually underwater)

(Bruno - the ratbat - in the air)

(Henry marvels at erosion)

(Henry tries to get another source going)

(Henry and Nick dig for water)

    Afterward Awesomez, Nick, Henry and I drove to Burlington for gymnastics. Nick stayed to watch while Awesomez and I went to go get a pedicure. This is not to imply that Awesomez, who neither believes in the ritual of moisturizer, nor the idea of base make-up, and is allergic to perfume was even entertaining the idea of a pedicure but she had conceded on accompanying me. Unfortunately, getting Quinn from soccer practice was putting a kink in my plan. I’d agreed to go to a new and untested nail salon near her soccer practice so I could pick her up and had even driven up to said salon when I panicked. This was my birthday pedicure; a cherished ritual. I sat there in the car thinking about the last time I’d gone for a pedicure.  I’d given in and had a less than perfect nail experience. The last time was in California during my sorority reunion and I was going to indulge a $12.00 desire when I was pressured out if it, I still had regrets. Here in Washington prices are $25.00 for a pedi (no mani) so I wasn’t about to squander my money and compromise. Disappointed, I pulled away with unsightly toes.

    In an effort to get some birthdayness going, Awesomez bought me a brand spanking new waffle maker just like I had before. This because Quinn broke my pride and joy, the Warring™ Pro Plus, a couple months ago while she was trying to clean it. It’s clear she didn’t pay enough attention in Miss Noelle Ikanda’s fourth grade class when circuits were being explained or she would have known, you don’t submerge electrical appliances, she must have been talking to Kaitlin Maroney or Hannah Dorman or Mackie Miller or someone. I am grateful she at least seemed to retain the part about not having it plugged in when running it under water.

(a good thing)

    The waffle maker it turns out was the one bright spot in an otherwise bleak day. It seems, Awesomez is a little like a Gremlin. If you don’t feed her with in the given parameters she gets a little cranky. A cranky Awesomez is a frightening experience. I didn’t realize this until it was too late. I missed the “I’d like a coffee” as a request for food. It’s one of those moments you wish you could go back and have a do-over, but you can’t. Well without going over all the gory details she questioned my choice of macaroni and cheese as a snack food – apparently she believed Nick wouldn’t eat cold pasta, and I felt in my pre-birthday-over-sensitiveness, my maternal instincts were being indicted, so I stomped off. From there voices were raised, feelings were hurt, the car got silent, and my tires squealed down the boulevard into the gymnastics parking lot perhaps a bit dramatically, I am my mother’s daughter after all and she did teach me how to peel out when I turned sixteen.

    “Is this really something two friends should be fighting over?” Nick questioned all too reasonably.

    “Mom can’t you just say your sorry” Henry wondered as the long uncomfortable drive home labored on me in the way back seat while I sang “Happy birthday to me” softly into Henry’s ear while, Nick was in the front with a sullen Awesomez and Quinn sat somewhere in no-man’s-land. To tell the truth, I don’t know how long this tawdry little fight would have continued if the cell phone hadn’t rung from my home number.
“I’ve got some bad news,” Amy said solemnly. My mind raced was it Luther, Vivian, Emmett, Irish?

    “What? Tell me.” I demanded.

    “It’s one of the chickens.  The turkeys, well, I think it was the turkeys because I saw one over him when I walked in. The turkeys pecked him. It’s bad. I don’t think he’s going to make it. There’s a lot of blood and I think at least one of his eyes are gone,” Amy said methodically, her EMT training evident as she gave the status report.

    “Oh my gosh, ” I yelped.

    “What? What?” Henry and Quinn asked worriedly.

    “Shhh, not now,” I hushed them trying to hear Amy. “Should we kill it? Where is he now?”

    “I’ve isolated him in a box with a heat lamp and I was just wondering if you were coming home,” she said sadly, “he has an orange band on his leg.”

    “That’s Michael alright. Can you call my sister? She might have some suggestions.” Henry’s favorite, my favorite, everyone’s favorite “We’ll be there soon, we’re on our way.” I said not looking forward to explaining to everyone.

    When we got home, I went straight to the coop to assess the injuries while Lisa went inside with the kids. Amy was vigilantly sitting with Michael who was about as bad as you can imagine, yet he was alive.

    Henry walked in tears filled his eyes at the sight of his baby. “Michael my little Michael come here,” Henry cooed. Michael responded to Henry’s voice and tried to stand up and despite Michael’s horrific appearance Henry leaned over and picked up his friend holding him close. My heart ached. “Why Michael? Why? Is it because he's the runt?” Henry kept asking over and over.

    “Maybe. Maybe it's because he’s so sweet and he didn't want to fight. Poultry can be vicious. it's why they keep them in little cages on chicken farms. Honestly, right now I don't blame them. There really is a pecking order and maybe he was just too much of a sweetie,” I said.     Michael was the first chicken to be named, he was named because he did a moonwalk and hence was dubbed Michael for Michael Jackson, but we were never sure if he was going to end up being named for Michael Jackson or if maybe he might be Michael for Michael Learned.

“I hate the turkeys. They’re like a gang. Where are they? “ Henry asked finally cognizant they weren’t in the coop.

    “They’re out in the chicken run, they’re just going to stay outside tonight, it's not that cold. Unfortunately, I was going to separate them earlier, that’s why your dad and I worked on the turkey enclosure, but then we got the ducks and we were trying out different animals in different living quarters and frankly, I didn’t notice the turkeys getting soooo much bigger recently. And of course they are, they’re ginormous. Uh, do you think you could eat one?" I asked.

    “Yep.” Henry said with a resounding tone, “no question.”

    “Absolutely.” Amy agreed.

    Amy and I put together a little intensive care unit. We found the Lucite box the chicks had used when they first came. We’d searched the shop, the garage, the laundry room and the barn when I realized we’d moved it to the side of the chicken coop in an effort to “clean-up” when Gnatalie arrived. We also got a screen to put over the box to prevent Michael from getting maggots. Next the kids got some old towels, and the small gate we’d had over the box when the chicks first arrived. Amy and I considered having him come in the house, but we feared the sounds of cats and dogs would be too taxing on his little system and even though the turkeys and maybe some of the chickens had turned on him, the sound of the chickens cooing would be comforting. Socrates sat next to the Lucite box for as long as I was there.

    After we got the intensive care unit outfitted, we tried getting him some water. Quinn and Nick went and found an eyedropper and some luke warmwater. We started with a healthy chicken for practice. My sister had given us some direction – we were not to get water under the tongue, as chicken anatomy is very different from humans. The eyedropper proved to be upsetting so we moved to dipping his beak in water. He took some, but not much. I washed his wounds out with medical eye wash and put triple anti-biotic on to keep him from getting an infection. He stood up which was encouraging.

(I'm giving a very injured Michael some water)

    “Well, he’s still alive” Amy pointed out.

    “But will he make it to morning?” I asked.

    “I don’t know, but I didn’t think he’d make it this long. I didn’t think he’d make it until you got home.”

    “He’s such a sweet guy. I never thought I’d like a chicken so much. We’ll have to say a little prayer. “

    “Happy Birthday,” Amy said quietly “some start huh?”  How my focus had changed. The day had gone from bad to worse, but I no longer cared about my toes, or the macaroni, or even the extra weight I’m carrying, I just wanted to help the little life I’d taken responsibility for. I just wanted Michael to live.

(Michael and Henry in happier days)

WARNING - Graphic Pictures of Michael Below

(Disfigured Michael)

August 19th Cow Girls

  (enjoying the chicken show and the shade - Alex, Riley and Christina)

     We worked a deal reminiscent of a baseball trade, Beckie (on Lopez Island) was buying a couple of Milking Devons from Ruth who was buying Anna from me by paying Susie for Gnatalie, while Amber did the vet checks and Hannah all the hauling from Missouri and back.

    At about 10:30AM Hannah called and in a chirpy voice and told me she and Gnatalie were only twenty minutes away. Shocked as I was moving kind of slow, still shuffling around in my pajamas and slippers with hay sticking out of my hair. I sprang into action jumping into my coveralls like a crime-fighter donning a cape. I still had a few things to get things ready for Gnatalie’s arrival, but first I had to get Anna, Abe and Andy up from the pasture.

    Getting those chowhounds was actually the easy part as they’ll go anywhere for a bucket of grain. I was more worried though about loading Anna into the trailer. I though I could use a couple of pipe corral gates to form a chute. Henry and I were just gathering one of the gates from the pasture when Hannah happened up.

    Cheerful and confident Hannah with her French manicure, pink tank top and sunglasses, was quite a cowhand. Actually a barrel racer in a hurry to get back to Missouri for a rodeo, she was undaunted by my concerns over loading Anna. Too bad Little Chris wasn’t around I think he would have been smitten.

(Barrel Racing Hannah from Missouri)

“Oh it’ll be no problem,” she said as she whipped the twenty-four foot trailer around as though she were backing up my van. “We’ll just try and load all three then let the boys out. People have the most trouble when they get the cows worked up. If they just let the cows be cows they’ll be fine” she said with experience. “But first we’ve got to get your new little heifer out of here”.

    “I’ll take her!” Henry piped up.

    “Great, you can put her halter on and just walk her around” Hannah suggested.

Hannah opened up the divider and out popped fuzzy little Gnatalie. She trotted down out of the trailer sweet as anything. Confused and nervous she looked around. Henry called her name, hugged her then slipped her halter over her head and gave her a few berry treats. Gnatalie thought that was a fine How-do-you-do.

(Our first peek)

(Here come Gnatalie!)

(Henry and Gnat get acquainted in the Evergreen state?)

Now for Anna, the plan was for Hannah and I to go in with the three cows and move them toward the trailer. Tom was manning the gate. I went over the plan with him one more time to be sure we were on the same page. He rolled his eyes at me.

    “I know, I know” he said, “I get it”.

    “OK, I didn’t mean to offend you, but I figured I’d better be clear before something went wrong and had her horns in my face” I said.

    All three cows headed for the end of the trailer and were eyeing it cautiously. Hannah put grain just inside the entrance and for no particular reason Anna hopped in. Tom and I looked at each other in disbelief. Lickity-split Hannah closed the trailer partition and Tom closed the gate. Abe and Andy stood there wondering what kind of Cris Angel trick this was. 

    Gnatalie does not act much like you expect a cow to act. She’s my third breed and I’ve never seen a cow so brazenly curious, independent and brave. Irish, Vivian, Rat-Bat and Luther can run most cows around because they run. Gnatalie meets the world head on. Which is a little intimidating to a goat, a sheep and five dogs.

(Irish gets a taste of his own medicine)

(Gnatalie goes all Deli and tries to find a way out of the paddock)

(Gnatalie takes over where Edward left off  finishing off the goose pool - it no longer holds water)

(Gnatalie meets Christina)

(Bruno is amazed - little cow, little cow cupcake)

(Gnatalie is shorter than my pickets - a long way from Pancho and Lefty)

(Me and Gnat)

(Gnatalie's favorite snack)

(Henry feeds Gnatalie over her head to keep dominance - like reaching up for an udder)

(Henry and Gnat enjoy some quiet time)

    We absolutely adore her, scratch her and hug her. Henry goes in her stall where the two of them are snug as a bug, and Tom and I can’t get enough of her but Gnat wants more companionship than us. Her cries sound like an elk bugle.

    So far, no one really wants to be her friend. The goats think she’s too pushy. The sheep are sure she’s too pushy. The boys won’t let her sit with them, and the equine think she should learn her place. You see naïve Gnatalie simply did not understand a donkey’s need for personal space. As a result, Miracle bit her square on the nose and Gnatalie cried more hurt than wounded. Like any girl, she just wants to be herd.

August 17th How Now Brown Cow

    (Andy, Anna with downward horns and Abe in front - hear my calls and come running out of the forest)

     I’d brought Anna and the boys up to the barn with the assistance of my trusty bucket of grain. They came willingly and eagerly in fact, it would have been a one shot deal into the paddock if Fast Eddie hadn’t decided to play a little game of horse-around-with-the-cattle. I gave Quinn a lead rope and she held the prankster around the corner out-of-sight. And without another mishap in they went.

    A couple of sips of ice water later Amber drove up in her vet truck to examine Anna for the Health Certificate and Tuberculosis check required by Missouri. Amber and I quickly released Abe and Andy, rigged two pipe fence gates together with lead ropes and built a “clamp” type area. Shooing Anna in and rewarding her with another bowl grain. In no time flat Amber had the blood she needed from Anna’s bum and the Lucky Strike Extra, we got the halter on her. Little Chris Donaldson had failed miserably in his attempt to get Anna’s halter on after roping her ‘til she was overheated and breathless. We got it done in minutes without anyone getting too stressed out. Of course there was an eensie bit of bucking, and horn tossing, but truly it was minimal. I felt so Helen Reddy.

(Doctor Amber Itle and Anna in our makeshift clamp)

(Anna sporting her halter)

(Anna is pretty in her new ensemble)

    The results came back fine and Anna was issued her certificate and could now legally cross state lines on her way to Ruth. Every time I looked at her and the boys I felt like a home wrecker. They’d been together since they were born, hence all the ‘A’ names.

        I called Ruth. “I know this is silly, and you probably think I’m a real city-girl with out a lick of cow sense, but do you think they’ll be traumatized when Anna leaves?” I inquired knowing I was revealing my over-emotional soft under-belly.

    “Well,” first she is a real Devon" she started softly. I could tell by her tone she was trying not to be insulting or condescending. “You see, uh have you ever read “Animals in Translation” by Temple Grandin?”

    “No I haven’t”

    “She’s an animal scientist and autistic. She’s been responsible for many changes in our food system to make things more humane. You can really learn about animal body language from her”.

    “I’ll get it” I assured her.

    “You really don’t have to worry about Anna, cows settle down in the trailer and just relax after awhile. Once she gets here she’ll be in a herd of thirty. Cattle of all ages”.

    “Thirty! You have 5% of the world’s population of Milking Devon’s” I realized aloud.

    “Including her grandmother. And remember Anna's going to be a mother soon”.

    “Really, that’s why I’m doing this. I know she should be with so few Milking Devons around. And honestly, she’s just not the cow for me. She’ll eat out of my hand, but she’ll never let me scratch her. I want a pet cow.”

    “Uh huh. Speaking of that, this is how I see the exchange happening. I won’t be able to come due to work so I’m sending Hannah with the rig and the cattle for Dave and Becky first to Lopez Island, then she’ll go pick up your new Dexter heifer and then come to you”.

    “Oh, I’m confused, I thought you were sending one of your Irish Dexter’s”.

    “No. I only have Milking Devon’s" It sounded so elitest when she said it, "so I made an arrangement with a woman out there. Your new heifer is a bit older than we first discussed. She’s a year old, but she’s halter broke and used to being pet”.

    “I see,” I said, but my heart was sinking. I’d wanted a calf. The kids were all excited about a young thing they could snuggle and raise like Norman in ‘City Slickers’. “Is she black? I really want one of those deep black ones, I know they also come in a brown.”

    “She’s black. I’ll send you a picture,” she promised and I went back to work.

    I had to break the news to the kids that our new cow wasn’t going to be what we’d expected, but that perhaps it was better this way. I sold it. Or at least I tried.

    “Mammmmma, I really wanted a baby,” Henry complained, sounding so Angelina Jolie.

    “Well, maybe it’s better this way, what if we didn’t handle the baby right and she wasn’t snuggly. This way, she already is” I rationalized.

    Then I got the picture. The little heifer was adorable and I was surprised she was so close by. I was feeling pretty good about things until I read:

    Ruth,

 I have enjoyed talking with you. Here is the picture I got of the heifer this evening. She has been registered with the Purebred Dexter Cattle Association (PDCA), and her official name is Pixie Forest Ms Hannah. She was born on April 7, 2008. Her sire is Pixie Forest Montana and dam is N'ewe Life Anna. She has been haltered and trained to lead, although as I mentioned it has been some time since that was enforced. She has not yet been bred, but many Dexter breeders wait until the heifers are 2 years old to do, so she still has some time yet to take care of that. Feel free to give my contact info to the  other party along with the note that I now have other yearling heifers for sale, and will have some weanlings available around November.

    If you have an idea of when the driver will be in my area that will help me fine-tune my schedule. Thanks  for your business.

    Susie Hensrude

    Pixie Forest Farm

(the heifer)

    Of course, I thought she was adorable, but now she was a year and a half old and she wasn’t exactly sounding snuggly.

    “She keeps getting older and older. First she was six months then she was seven months then a year and now a year and a half? Is she done aging?” Tom said skeptically.

    “I know, that’s why I put a call into the lady at Pixie Forest Farm and we’re going down there this afternoon to meet “Hannah” and a little three month heifer. I told her we didn’t have to get her now we just wanted to get the right one. She told me her Dexters are like puppies and she wants them all to go to the right home, before we drive north to Lynden for the fair we’re going  south to Pixie Forest Farm” Tom stood there and for a moment I wasn’t sure what was going on in his little pea brain from the look on his face. I considered he might be annoyed at me for cramming so much into one day – again. He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

    “Come on Henry you’ve got to get going, we’ve got a big day ahead of us” Tom called up the stairs.

    “We’ve always got a big day, what’s new?” Henry called back and Tom shrugged.

    “Do you think we’ll like the older one or the younger one?” I asked Tom as we made our way down the I5 to Lake Stevens.

    “The younger one. I’m sure the little girl will tug at my heart” Tom said.

    “What about how the older one will feel?” I worried about her not getting picked. The truth is I wanted the younger one too.

    When we drove up, Susie showed us into the first pasture of yearlings. I couldn’t believe how little they were. “From Pancho and Lefty to this?” Tom said.

I turned to Susie, “Our first cattle were oxen, Milking Shorthorns as tall as my van”.

(Tom in the pixie forest)

   

(Our Pancho, the sweetest Milking Shorthorn oxen next to Lefty there ever was)

    There she was the one in the picture Ruth had sent, but it quickly became apparent Hannah whose father was named Montana wasn’t to be our cow.

    “She’s not very friendly” Henry noted. He was right; she was friendly, but not as much as I wanted to like her she just wasn’t what we’d imagined. “Who’s this?” Henry asked Susie about a heifer who kept rubbing her head against us to be scratched. She wasn’t really a contender because she was brown.

    “Oh that’s Natalie. Her name is spelled with a “G” because she’s so small. She’s Gnatalie like a gnat. She was one of the hardest heifer’s to win over, but now she’s really a people cow” And she was, she kept coming up and putting her head under my arm. It made me giggle, but honestly I didn’t want her she was not only too old, but brown. I wanted something else - I wanted a black one.

(Susie, Hannah and Henry)

(Susie, Gnatalie and Henry)

    “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” I asked Susie.

    “No not at all, Lu will show you where it is” Susie said. I followed her niece, Lu, out of the pasture. As I walked toward the house I heard a high-pitched sound sort of like an elk bugle. I turned and looked over my shoulder.

    “She misses you and doesn’t want you to leave” Tom laughed. I smiled. “You love her” he taunted me.

    I didn’t want to love her.

    When I came back Tom and Henry were ready to go meet the babies, Marie and Veronica. Tom instantly fell for Veronica. She was jet black and full of vinegar. Brave and daring she came up to us to investigate. Henry destined to deal with difficult women all of his life wanted to win over the more guarded and cautious Marie. They were adorable and so were their mothers, Sprite and Shannon.

(Henry woos Marie- how else? ignoring her - typical girl)

(Henry afraid to move a muscle or even smile in fear of scaring little Marie away)

    I knew what I was thinking but I thought I should ask Tom his thoughts.

    “What do I think? Who should we get, Hannah, Veronica, Marie or Gnatalie?”

    “Um, Do you want me to tell you what I really think? I think we should get two”.

    “Did you read my mind?” I snickered. Relieved I didn’t say it. Tom laughed.

    “We’re rarely not on the same page.” He noted.

    “We can’t get two though, so which one is it?”

    “Gnatalie, she’s already what we want. Marie or Veronica are great, but if they didn’t turn out like her, we’d be really bummed. She’s just what we want”.

    “I do love her, but She’s not just what I want, I wanted a younger black one” I said having a hard time letting go of my dream.

    “I really like the black too they’re beautiful, but it’s the Stewart-syndrome all over again” Tom stated authoritatively.

    “What do you mean, Dad? Stewart, Mom’s old cat?” Henry asked.

    “Yes, your mom went to get a cat,”

    “At Actors and Other’s For Animals” I interjected.

    “She wanted a dark, older female with long hair,” Tom continued.

    “And they had one, only she was mean and rotten, spitting and hissing and still I almost got her, because she’s what I thought I wanted. But my friend, Dixon was with me and she said I was nuts, because there in the next cage trying to get my attention in complete Disney fashion, purring at me reaching through the cage was Stewart. He was a kitten with short white hair. A boy. Everything I didn’t want, but exactly what I needed”.

    “Sooooo we’re getting Gnatalie?” Henry said brimming over with excitement.

    “Yep” Tom and I said in unison.

    From there we drove to the fair. We searched the barns for Irish Dexters, but alas, there were none this year. We did see the tail end of a calf being born and saw him stand for the first time as his mother licked him. We scanned the poultry barn for any of our breeds, but there weren’t any except a bronze turkey. There were one or two Oberhasli goats, no Leicester long wools in the sheep barn. We looked for our pick, the American Guinea Hog in the swine area, but none of those either.

    Henry had a “Moowich”, a homemade chocolate chip cookie with ice cream in the middle at the Dairy barn to support the League of Dairy Women. We walked around saw some incredible tap dancing brothers, but missed the performing pigs.

    On our way out, we decided to swing by the Dairy barn again and see the new little bull-calf one more time. To our surprise, the cow in the next paddock was in full heaving labor. So we stayed and watched the miracle of birth.

(just after)

(the new baby gets tended to by the mama)

(still bloody)

(Henry and I had a front row seat )

    Walking back to the car at almost midnight, Henry said, “Do you want to watch a movie when we get home?”

    “Henry!” Tom almost shouted. “We need so me sleep, tomorrow’s a big day” Tom said unwittingly.

    “I know, and the day after that?”  Henry taunted.

    “Well, that’s the day Anna leaves and Gnatalie arrives”.

    “And the day after that?”

    “We’ve got an appointment to see the kitchen we might use to process Henry’s Sweet Ass Honey”

    “My point exactly. So do you want to watch a movie?”