Yesterday I went to feed the horses but they would not come down to where we usually feed. They whinnied from the end of the narrow passage to their water trough.
We aren’t coming any closer, thanks.
I gathered their feed tubs and turned around to go get food. There I saw a very sad sight. A poor cow had died giving birth. Poor beautiful mama. I won’t share photos.
No wonder the horses would not come up. Even food didn’t convince them, so I took them their food.
Thanks for Indy, Human Mom.
Then I heard it’s harvest day for the sheep. Well, that’s their job and all, but sigh.
You really toughen up and remember life is hard when you live in the country.
Now that I’ve slept, maybe I can share some of the depth and variety of the things I learned at the Bandera County Watersheds Riparian Training I attended on Wednesday, March 6. The event was held in Bandera (one of the most attractive small towns I ever saw and VERY consistent in its cowboy theme), and the weather improved enough that the outdoo parts were not unbearable. There were at least 30 participants, ranging from fellow Master Naturalists to water management professionals to interested landowners.
This young man was full of information. I’d love to hear him again.
Much of the day was spent indoors, however, as a team of water management experts from many different agencies shared their knowledge of managing the areas alongside rivers, creeks, and streams. These are called riparian areas, and they are a very important part of water management, but one that has been misunderstood a lot in the past.
Our scenic location.
Sadly, the beautifully manicured lawns and parkscapes we often see, where people walk up and down to admire the view, are not actually what our waterways need. The need a riparian buffer of plants that love water or theive near it and trees that are of various ages, so that when they die or fall into the water, there are future trees to replace them.
I chose to drive to Boerne, Texas today on the back roads. That rarely disappoints me! The hills and valleys to the west of Austin and San Antonio provide new surprises every time you take a corner or reach the top of a hill.
I passed many beautiful ranches, and saw many longhorns and exotic game. I even saw four axis deer NOT in a fenced area. I guess those guys are here to stay.
I also finally got to visit Kendall County, and Kendalia, where I fulfilled a dream of taking my picture by the sign.
Doing my chipmunk imitation. Kendall in Kendalia.
Everything on the back roads went well until I went to find the Hampton Inn. The Maps app didn’t realize it was on the OTHER side of the Interstate. I called for help, and the poor young woman who answered had just moved to Boerne and had to get help of her own. She gave me an extra water bottle, because I was nice about it.
Yep, it’s on THIS side of I-10. Construction confused my navigation app.
She was also impressed that I brought my own dozen roses with me, thanks to my annual gift from Freytag’s Florist.)
Traveling in style with roses and a fancy coffee in a rose cup.
After all that, I needed fresh air. I checked out the really pretty pool area behind the hotel. There’s a fun waterfall, so I sat in a lounge chair behind it (hey, it was over 50 degrees F!).
Whee! I’m behind the fake waterfall!
Suddenly, a familiar blurry shape descended. A Cooper’s hawk landed in a small tree on the other side of the pool. It was a male or juvenile, quite petite. I watched him checking things out around him, paying no attention to me.
Watching the watcher. Hello, hawk.
I guess this is my season to be reminded of the vigilance and protectiveness of hawks.
Happy Sunday! Yesterday I attended a committee meeting with our Master Naturalist group. Rather than write it up twice, I’m sharing my post on their blog.
I’d like to add that I saw a huge dead feral hog on the way in, and found some Indian paintbrush flowers on the roadside between Cameron and rural Rockdale!
Yesterday, the Environment and Recycling Ad-hoc Committee’s Earth Day subcommittee met to continue to work out plans. I was glad I could finally attend a meeting, because it was fun to see the team at work. I was joined by Ann Collins, Linda Jo Conn, Joyce Conner, Catherine Johnson, Rosie Johnson (guest and helper), Larry Kocian, Kathy Lester, and Donna Lewis (the leader of the bunch).
Nandina and Texas mountain laurel added beauty and scent too the meetiing.
What’s going on with Earth Day?
The El Camino Real Master Naturalist Chapter’s biggest outreach project each year is to host an Earth Day event, to share ways to protect the planet with the community. This year it will be at:
Rockdale Community Center, 109 N. Main, on Saturday, April 20, 10 am – 2 pm.
We were excited to learn about all the planned activities and tables. Our team leader, Donna…
One of the things I really wanted to do with this blog is make note of the passing of the seasons, when things come into bloom, when birds arrive and depart, etc. Today has been a great day for that, because even with the unseasonable chill in the air, the plants and animals remind me it is spring!
Not my picture, but exactly what I saw, down to the pond and tall grass.
On my way to work today, I had to turn around and go back to my friend’s house, because she needed something. Only she didn’t. But I couldn’t be upset, because the second time I drove by the first property after Walker’s Creek, a deer went over the road. On the other side were six more, of varying sizes. I can’t tell you how happy that made me, since we used to have very few deer right around here. I know they lost a big daddy buck during deer season, so I am happy there are new ones coming up.
Come and get us, bees!
As I drove on up the hill, lovely native Mexican plum trees (Prunus mexicalis) were blooming. They are all over the wooded areas in this part of Texas. The photo you see here is from the one hiding in our woods, from last year. They are my favorite sign of early spring in this area.
A dewberry flower, from last spring.
I remembered to look down as I drove, and sure enough, the dewberries have started to bloom. Oh hooray! The bees will be even more happy to see them than I was, and we can look forward to more treats!
The redbuds that are native are also blooming away, which makes sense for March 1. My favorite month for flowers has begun!
It’s been a fun weekend here at the Hermits’ Rest. I managed to go horseback riding twice, which is rare, and Apache and I had lots of fun.
Sara is setting up our cone obstacle course.
Sara set up cones, so we got to ride in patterns. He did way better on Day 2, like he figured it out. I also prevented him from eating thistles unless it was my idea.
Today we went into the pasture where a lot of cattle were. Spice did a great job herding them, and Apache managed not to panic when a big mama came toward him. Baby steps.
The new veggie garden at the cabin. Tyler hopes it will be chicken free.
Meanwhile, Fiona was “helping” Tyler work on his new vegetable garden. And hee-hawing. He has patiently built a fence and covered it, to keep the chickens out. That’s nice of him.
Let me out of this car.
Even more exciting was the fact that the sheep’s owner had come to pick them up to shear them. She got the male in her SUV but the ewe would NOT be caught. She thinks she’s a cow, dang it. In the end, they let Sheep Man back out. That’s one for them!
Ooh! Carrots and celery! Thanks!
As for the chickens, they were excited this weekend by food fun. I got them some dried mealworms, which they love. They’re sort of creepy, though, because they look sort of alive when you pour them. Plus, they got even more excited when I bought them veggie leftovers from the dinner I was cooking.
One of these eggs is not like the other!
The it was my turn to get excited! The chocolate brown eggs have started! It’s amazing how tiny pullet eggs are. I want to save the shell!
Homemade chicken and dumplings. Comfort food rules.
Now to eat my chicken and dumplings. Dumplings are secretly flour tortillas cut up. Chicken is not from my hens!
This morning I had to gas up the car before heading to Cameron. I pulled into the bay, got out, and Vlassic jumped out right after me.
I was worried he’d get hit by a car at the very busy station.
But no. He ran around the car at the pump next to me, which had also just pulled up, and jumped into that car. He was ready to go.
The man at the other pump laughed and laughed. He said, “He must have known I have a dog that looks just like that!”
How dare those men park here!
Right now we are waiting for Lee at the scenic Buckholts State Bank, where Vlassic is focusing his laser vision on people who have the nerve to park next to us.
Scenic Buckholts State Bank, as seen through a wet windshield.
(Weather report sidebar: yes, it’s raining again. We sure enjoyed that one sunny day this week.)
I need a knife.
When the people leave, he’s trying to break into my giant box of egg cartons.
Yesterday was the final day of the great chicken coop cleanup effort. Before that, though, I had to clean my dang horse, who has started to shed his thick winter coat. Fiona the mini-donkey did not want to be left out, either.
This may not be the right brand, but this is the sort of thing we used on the horses.
It was too cold for me to ride, but I wanted to hang out with Sara and brush Apache out. Of course, Fiona had to come along. Sara had bought these new miracle tools, which look suspiciously like something you’d clean your barbecue grill off with. I tried it out on the very dirty Apache, and wow, did a LOT of long white hairs come off. He seemed to like the way the cleaning tool felt, too. Neither Spice nor Fiona were shedding like Apache was. Must be the Arabian in him.
I’m embarrassed that my tail looks so perfect, so I”m hiding it. Snort.
While I was at it, I also trimmed his tail, since it was reaching the ground again and getting all dirty. I hope he appreciated it.
May I please come in?
I kept having to go back into the tack room to get things. I heard a noise, and there was my little “helper” wanting to come on in and check out the food dishes full of beet pulp that were soaking.
Fine, then, I’ll just go over and check out this hay, since these feed bowls are obviously empty.
When I told her to move, she happily went over to help get rid of that last bale of hay that was hanging around from when the horses were in the corral. Such a little darling.
Also had hen helpers
That’s Fluffy Butt in front, with Candi in back.
Later in the afternoon, I came back to finish cleaning out the chicken coop. I was very proud of myself for emptying out all 24 nest boxes and replacing the old mulch with new pine shavings, which are what the new chickens are used to, anyway. The job was made both harder and more fun by the new hens, who were very interested in “helping” me.
The golf balls are pretend eggs, Ralph says they work, so I put one in each next box.
In fact, after I finished, I was picking up more glass off the ground, and Fluffy Butt, the new Barred Rock hen, came up repeatedly, so I fed her some chicken scratch right out of my hand. She was very delicate!
A better view of fluffy pine shavings. Ah. Comfort.
About that time, Mandi and Randy showed up to help me with the floor and parts of the coop I could not reach. A real cleaning ensued, with the feed trough cleaned out, the top of the chick raising area cleaned, and ugh, a dead chicken that got wedged behind the cage removed (one final owl casualty, I guess, though it had been a while).
Mandi also swept all the droppings and stuff off the floor, which now will be some fine mulch, once it composts a bit more. It may be an old coop, but it’s a clean one now.
This picture is from before the floor got cleaned. Imagine it all smooth and with no poop.
Once Randy discovered the pieces of glass in the pen, he started picking it up, and by the time we were ready to go, we had another large amount of glass! I sure appreciated the help.
Now I’m just hoping that the new hens and the old hens get along. They definitely hang out in separate groups. But we already have a couple of eggs from the new gals. Hooray!
First of all, I’d like to sincerely thank all of you who have said such kind and supportive things to Mandi after yesterday’s post about Sweetie. I know she feels the love from all of you. And I mean ALL of you. Her post and the one about Brody getting hurt are the two most-read posts since I started this blog. Close behind came dead chickens. Hmm. I sense a theme.
I feel lots better when sitting on Daddy. Harvey is being good, though.
So, here you go, something on both injured dogs AND dead chickens. Something for everybody, huh?
I guess you can tell from my tone that this isn’t all that horrible. Like Mandi said yesterday, when you live out in the country, you see life and death every day. I think it gets you a better perspective; we all are going to go sometime, for some reason, so let’s appreciate what we have now. Platitudes, maybe, but true.
Chickens can be funny
We did have another chicken loss this week. It was really hot, then really cold, and I guess if a chicken had to die of natural causes, the cold time is probably better. Poor little Ameracauna was just sitting on her nest. Sara thinks she was eggbound or had some other issue. At least nothing ate her, and it was peaceful. Poor dear.
For only having nine hens now, we are still getting lots of colors. And the pinkish one in the middle is HUGE.
I mentioned that the egg production had ramped up, but it had settled to four a day, which isn’t many for the number of chickens we had. As we were dealing with the dead chicken, Tyler, who lives in the cabin by the coop, came out. I said feel free to take a few eggs now, since we have enough for at least our community. He said, “Oh, I’ve been finding them in a weird place lately…oh my gosh!” He had turned to the shelves outside his door and found SEVEN eggs from a brown hen on the top shelf. Someone found a nice, warm roost. So, yesterday, everybody got some eggs!
Country life is a special and different kind of life. It is even more important out in the country to form bonds with neighbors and their animals, in case an emergency ever happens. Country life does have some rules that are sometimes very heartbreaking for the families that have to abide by them. My family is one of those families.
Sleepy Maggie
I am, by all accounts, an animal lover. All of them. Even skunks. I believe they all have their own beauty to share. The most special animals in my life are my dogs. We operate by pack law, and it serves us well. We have a big collie named Sarge, a “hefty” husky/collie named Wink, a little furry Pomeranian/Yorkie named Sully, and a tiny piebald dachshund/Chihuahua named Maggie. We adopted a beautiful new dog that was a dalmatian mix named Sweetie.
Fuzzy Sully
The
four other dogs get along rather harmoniously. They don’t fight or get physical
with each other. They will growl over who gets to sleep on which blanket, but
they are called off easily. Sarge and Wink are a protective team. They have
been taught to work together to neutralize a threat by command, or by
recognition. Sully was bottle raised from 3 days old by me after his mother
became sick and passed unexpectedly. Maggie came to me from a cousin of mine.
They are not trained like Sarge and Wink.
King Sarge
We
brought 2 year old Sweetie into the pack, and I had very high hopes of her
joining in the ranks of Wink and Sarge (who are 7 and 8 respectively). Sweetie
seemed like a great fit, and then things turned south. But I want to include
pictures of what she was like before that happened to really capture who she
truly was before the trauma surfaced and took over her mind.
We have no idea what her life was like for the two years before we had her. She was named very well with her personality. She was an astounding cuddler, and loved the kids. She often slept with my two younger kids, as a matter of fact. She got along very well with the other dogs, the cat, and loved her big yard.
Wink, with Patsy Catsy
One day she started getting out of the yard and chasing cows, sheep, and anything else she could find. We worked on making the fence more secure, but it just never seemed to work.
Then that escalated. She attacked Maggie unprovoked. It didn’t leave serious injuries, so I let that slide as a bad day. Then it happened again.
The third time was really bad. Maggie came out of it with no permanent damage, but Sweetie threatened the kids (the same ones you see her cuddling in the pictures) that time as well. Sarge and Wink did their jobs and protected Maggie and the boys. Sweetie had to be locked up in the house and isolated to assure that she wouldn’t hurt anyone. That’s no life at all.
Sweetie with her sleeping buddy
At
some point in her life, she suffered trauma that caused her to just snap. She
was then unpredictable and dangerous. We only had one choice. To take her to
see the vet. February 7th, 2019 I laid on the warm, green grass with Sweetie
(who had to be muzzled for behavior there) and held her, and cried so hard that
I thought for sure I would vomit. Her trusting eyes had looked to me to be
protected, and trusted me fully. I felt like I was plotting her murder behind
her back.
Happy days
The night before she had meat lover’s pizza and chicken wings. I felt like I was the worst person on the face of the planet for not being able to fix this with her. My heart is broken. I took every bit of strength I could muster to tell the vet what had happened, ask about alternatives, then make the final call that I knew had to be made for her own peace. So many people I talked to who are professionals with dogs reassured me that this was the right thing, the only real choice, and most humane thing for her.
Peekaboo
The alternatives of her being hit by a car, or a neighbor shooting her and missing so she suffers, another animal injuring her, Wink and Sarge having to gang up on her 2-1 to protect us, were something that I couldn’t allow her the chance of having to go through. She died next to someone that loved her, who held her, who cried for her, who apologized for whatever had happened to her, and who wished beyond wishes that we were anywhere but there at that moment.
We loved her.
I’m
so heartbroken, and so angry that someone hurt her in such a way that made an
innocent life have to be cut so short. All sorts of mean things against whoever
did that have run through my head. But the main thing I have thought was,
“There. I cleaned up your mess for you. I broke my own heart to bring peace to
hers that you had broken so badly.”
I
wanted to scream “STOP!” when her heart rate and breathing rapidly declined.
She was very heavily sedated before the bad shot came. I just kept saying, “I’m
sorry.” over and over again until the vet told me it was over.
This
isn’t a nice, warm, fuzzy, funny post that we usually try to make. This is a
real life post of what happens when someone is an irresponsible pet owner.
Sweetie’s mother and father were allowed to have a litter of puppies that were
unwanted. Those puppies were given away, and at least one of them was abused,
then tossed on the street to starve. This is the reality of allowing puppies to
be born that you do not want. There is someone like me whose heart is breaking
over making the choice to have a dog put to sleep because someone else made a
bad choice and was not responsible.
Sweetie
stole my heart, and she deserved to grow old with me. She deserved to watch the
boys grow up and meet grandkids to play with one day. She deserved a full,
healthy, happy life with us. She is now at peace under the tree with Ricci (my
old mare who passed in ’17) and my mom’s little dog (also a rescue who lived to
be 18 years old). She belongs under that tree. No matter what man made faults
she had, she was my good girl.
The Hermits' Rest 