The morning is brisk, but the sun is warm as I walk the puppies around the pond. Since we started aerating the water has become so clear that I can see plant life growing along the sides . There are many frog in the pond and I know there's fish, but I don't see any.
Taz is our official frog hunter and I have pictures of her belly deep in the pond waiting to pounce on a frog. The delicate princess is waist deep in pond water as she wades in to stalk her prey. I don't know that she's ever caught one and I don't know what she'd do with it if she did, but she managed to lick one once and I don't think she liked the taste (the frog did not turn into a puppy prince either).
Our pond isn't an ornamental pond with a fancy liner, lights and a waterfall. It's dirt. Actually, it's clay. We dug it last year with my dad's backhoe and made a complete mess that took us weeks to clean up, but this year it's starting to look good. We threw grass seed on the still dirt, but it might have been too soon and too cold because we don't see any warm fuzzy green growth.
We put fresh mulch around the house gardens this year and I always giggle quietly to myself as I start up my small diesel tractor with front end loader and do some light gardening. I love that I live someplace where a case tractor is considered a basic gardening tool. We use the backhoe for the heavy work.
We've put about thirty fish in the pond since we dug it and I rarely see any, unless I go out at the break of dawn. There are a few three to four inch fish in the pond, but they always manage to hide from me during bright daylight hours. We don't feed the pond fish, so they don't readily come to the surface when people approach like the usual pond fish. Probably a good thing otherwise they might become fodder for the local blue heron.
Speaking of our local heron, she was standing in the back field last year and Taz went nuts. She tore after the bird at top speed and got to within ten feet when the heron spread her wings and took flight. I've never seen a dog turn tail and run back to her mama like the little blond bombshell. She ran out barking at the top of her lungs and came back a little faster crying. It's nice to know even the bravest soul has it's weakness.
There are two outbuilding near the pond that the dogs rush to investigate every morning hoping to find a wild bunny to chase or perhaps a squirrel. This morning they managed to locate and frighten my old barn cat Wheezy. She's from the Cat Rescue Society based out of Toronto. This group volunteers their time to live trapped feral cats, alter them, provide basic medical care and shots (especially rabies). The Society then seeks farm homes where the cats can live out their days. Wheezy came with two other cats: a large and wild rag doll (who has taken care of my raccoon problem) and another little female. Wheezy sounds like her name. The people from the Cat Society said they've had her in care for months and have treated her with antibiotics, but this is just how she sounds. Most feral cats have a short lifespan of only a few years and they figured Wheezy was close to six, so she was an old girl for her lifestyle choices.
Wheezy is also deaf, so being a scared so early in the morning must have strained her old heart. She ran out of the building and jumped up to sit on the fence post and look disgustedly at the dogs. She gave a hearty sneeze before sneaking off to find a safer place to nap.
After the dogs had their walk I strolled out to the barn to feed the crew. Charlotte, Willow and Nelly-Kelly were all outside enjoying the sunshine. Ginger and Nugget were still napping in the barn. As I prepared their grain I could hear them talking. Grunts, snorts, beys, clucks and the occasional squeal. It is like a symphony tuning up, but not the philharmonic symphony, more like a high school band.
Ginger and Nugget have really become buddies. I watch them eat together, sleep together and I wonder what kind of fetish a chicken has to have such a sweet relationship with a pig and vice versa.
There's an order to feeding the animals otherwise they tend to get very upset with each other and with me. Ginger gets fed first and will only share with Nugget, then Charlotte, the goats and finally the bunnies.
I went back into the house to get water and when I returned everyone was done eating and was having their morning wandering. I looked all over, but couldn't find Nugget anywhere. Weird. That's not like Nugget to go missing. Once a chicken is imprinted to a farm they stay around and that's why you see chickens roaming around loose. Goats are the same way. I could let Willow and Nelly-Kelly wander and eat my flower beds, but I worry about the road.
I checked the field, barn and little outbuildings and no Nugget. I noticed the bunny dish in the hutch was empty to I walked to the feed room wondering what had happened to my little Nugget. Returning with a healthy scoop of bunny pellets I dumped it into the ceramic dish and made that tinkling sound which caused the chicken to cluck. Where did that come from?
I started looking around the bunny hutch and there was my chicken nesting and laying her morning egg. I felt like I'd violated her quiet time, but she gave me the sideways stare and I politely moved away. I do love Nuggets eggs.
Gizmo Update:
Yesterday at four o'clock our Gizmo came alive. His lids are still swollen, but his eyes are very open and very bright with joy. I'm glad he's on the upswing of mending.
This morning he didn't want to get out of bed which is a welcoming sign for Gizmo. I dragged him downstairs and made him go out for a pee. We then started a morning routine: two sets of eye drops, ear medicine (because he's also fighting an ear infection), allergy medicine, anti-inflammatories and a little herbal something to help calm and keep him settled. He gets it all with a little canned food, so he really didn't mind getting out of bed for food.
After our walk he's settled back down into his heated dog bed and is resting. It feels like things are going back to normal.
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