this is a test

ivan crowed this morning for the first time in nearly a year.  he was having breakfast in a cage in the pen, listening to the other roosters make noise, when he lifted his head and let loose with a respectable crow.  this little sign of progress is cause for celebration.   for the past two weeks, ivan's had a very hard time standing and walking.  whenever he makes the effort, he opens he beak slight and starts panting (which seems like an expression of both exhaustion and pain).  for a few days, i wondered whether putting him down was the humane thing to do and decided to have the vet take a look.  

dr. martin came last tuesday.  he's seen ivan about half a dozen times since he was injured.  as always, the towel-covered top of our washing machine was his exam table (the laundry room is our triage center).   i layed ivan on the towel and unwrapped his leg.  dr. martin seemed alittle sad, as i was, to see ivan declining a bit, since he had always improved following each previous visit.  as he explained the options (to perform surgery and run cultures, or put him down), sweat and tears started rolling down my face.  holding ivan, i wished that he could tell me what he wanted us to do.  the thought of putting him down was heartbreaking, but i didn't want to prolong his life as an exercise if it meant constant pain.  dr. martin told me to think about it, as i wrapped ivan's leg using our regular dressing ritual:  betadyne rinse, dollop of antibiotic ointment, cover with gauze, wrap with 3 long strips of waterproof tape.  i was grateful that he left some pain medication, which we're to use in very small quantities.  he told me to continue the same course of treatment until surgery, if that was our choice.  i don't think there is another choice for us now, considering ivan's noisemaking this morning.

i came home yesterday to discover half of the chicken pen door missing.  gone.  ivan was kept inside the pen during the day with food and water.  i found him crouched in a corner, with the feeders empty.  we have a small door-within-a-door for the chickens to use, which was closed that morning, but i could see that it had been opened before being sheared off with half of the big door and all the poultry wire.  i knew immediately who the culprits were.  as they saw me pulling in the gate, they had hustled to the back of the yard, away from my view.  i walked back to the flock, expecting to find the remnants of a door around someone's fuzzy little neck, but they just stared at me innocently.  no door.  i circled the property and finally found some wood, with the chicken door and wire still attached, wedged between two boxed fruit trees.  i can only imagine the scene as one of the sheep wandered frantically with a door around it's neck. 

periodically, people considering sheep ownership will email or call for advice (we're listed on a couple of "sheep sites" as babydoll breeders).  one of the first things i tell them is that they need solid fencing and housing, because sheep will test the soundness of your construction.  they will respect a boundary until they discover it can be breached (which doesn't take long).  then, all bets are off.  last year, we sold our lambs to a winery near paso robles and delivered them at the buyer's request.  the owner, danny, had built a small pen next to the house, as he wanted to keep the lambs close to home while they were young.  after they were settled in the pen, he took us on a tractor tour of his vineyard and winery, and even gave us a couple bottles of wine.  all was lovely until we returned to the house and i noticed that the pen was empty - no lambs.  the fencing was not secure enough and they pushed a wire panel open and escaped.   we all took off in different directions, searching and calling across the acres and acres of open land.  i knew that if we didn't find them, coyotes would.  danny found the ram and chased him into his woodworking shop.  james and i discovered the ewe in an open field and, as we were herding her towards the barn, danny's german shepherd appeared.  he thought we were playing a game of chase and promptly chased the ewe across the field, through some deer fencing and onto a neighbor's property.  we drove up and down the road looking for her, as danny zoomed around on his atv, but she was gone.  i had little hope of finding her and went back to the ram to dress his wounds (he had torn some skin on a fence) while james and danny continued to search.  about 2 hours later, as i sat with the injured ram, i could hear james yelling and danny's atv revving.   james had found the ewe grazing calmly in a field across the road and stalked her - slowly crawling on his belly until he was close enough to pounce.  it all ended well but i had to ask danny what in the world he was thinking when he built that pen.  

big-cheap-easy

the weather is perfect today - sunny and high 70's.  the sweet corn has been so good at the market that i've been obsessed with making all kinds of soup.  today, i made corn and summer squash soup with cilantro.  yesterday, i made corn and leek chowder.

james read "the ominvore's dilemma" and has been sharing bits and pieces of wisdom from it. that, the release of the book "farm city: the education of an urban farmer" and the movie "food, inc.", has me thinking alot about our food. what can i do to improve the quality of what we eat while supporting local farmers and diversity in the food supply?  we've become an oversized nation, with oversized livestock and produce that is genetically manipulated for outward perfection and uniformity (rather than taste and nutrition).  we've cross-bred our cattle and sheep to make them bigger, but not better.  hereford cattle imported from england in the mid-19th century were half the size of modern herefords.  the original 600 lb. hereford produces almost 75% of the premium, lean meat produced by a 1200 lb. "modern" cow (who eats twice as much food).  the "modern" cow surpasses the "original" breed in one area - fatty, cheap cuts.  progress?  interestingly, the original breed size is now classified as "miniature", and some farmers are giving them a second look because they are more economical to raise.  our babydoll sheep are considered a miniature breed, but in fact they are the original size of southdown sheep imported from england.  modern southdowns were cross-bred with stock from new zealand to produce larger sheep, making the original breed virtually extinct.  babydoll southdowns are now considered a specialty breed, are registered and sell for nearly twice the price of modern southdowns.  maybe the tide is turning back to "mini"?

james has enlighted me about how a diet of corn is the worst thing for cattle.  their stomachs are not equipped to handle a grain diet,  yet most commercial producers prefer it because it fattens the animals more quickly and requires no land (whereas a diet of grass requires a pasture, and less crowding than a feedlot).   grass-fed beef contains less fat, 80% less frequency of e-coli bacteria, and more omega-3's.  feeding grain and corn to beef or dairy cattle increases physiological stress (ulcers, liver problems, mastitis, etc.), usually encouraging regular use of antibiotics.  

i've been corresponding with betsy at paicines ranch, a family-owned ranch in san benito county.  it's been a working ranch since the 1800's, and they breed angus cattle and quarterhorses.  they also sell their own beef, which is raised on organic pasture without hormones or antibiotics. the family also owns a meat processing plant that is certified in humane animal handling and offers services to small livestock producers.  i think i'm going to order 25 lbs. of beef from them (at $7.75/lb., it's cheaper that whole foods).  i feel compelled to support small producers who raise their animals in the healthiest way.  

i plan to do more research on heritage breeds.  there are breeds of animals and vegetables that are approaching extinction for a variety of reasons (mostly because they don't conform to the modern desire for big-cheap-easy food).  it doesn't seem smart to put all of our eggs in one basket (so to speak) where our food supply is concerned.  diversity is the smart choice, even if it isn't always the easiest one.

the weekend

as usual, had a busy weekend.  made the weekly trip to east valley feed & tack on saturday - a 15 minute drive down the 210 to sun valley.  we blow through two bales of straw and hay, two bags of wood shavings, and about 100 lbs. of lay mash and scratch for the chickens every week.   having animals is not an inexpensive proposition.  we've started feeding bermuda grass to the sheep instead of alfalfa, so now that's on the list, too.   i spend as much on their food as i do on ours.

we have a few gimpy critters limping around.  ivan has been hobbling for awhile since a scrape on his upper leg became infected.  we spent months repeating a cycle of de-briding, then letting it heal. over and over.  the infection is back so i'm cleaning and dressing his leg every day and keeping him in the pen.  i think it may be time for more chicken surgery in the dining room.  two of the sheep are limping now, too - skittle and isaac.  maybe it's contagious.  foot and leg injuries are the worst because they can take so long to heal.  last year, one of the lambs twisted his foot when it became wedged in a lawn chair.  don't ask me how he did it - lambs get into all sorts of trouble that defies physics.  one managed to get trapped in a tomato cage this year.  his torso was actually inside the cage and it looked like he was sporting one of those gaultier contraptions that madonna wore in the 90's.  anyway, i had my first experience with a large animal emergency facility as a result of the chair episode.  the humphrey-giacopuzzi animal hospital in somas, to be specific, where their medical facility is a barn with cranes (for lifting the biggies).  they have a special, hand-held xray machine that can accommodate an animal in any position on the floor or standing.  we all had to wear heavy lead aprons, of course, which was only slightly worrisome.  fortunately, the lamb had no broken bones, just a sprain, and i had a lesson on lamb leg structure and vet-wrap.

we finally saw the sun yesterday after a gloomy couple of weeks.  tango, our little rescue "chorkie" (i'll let you guess his mix), enjoyed some sunbathing.  i think my tomato plants are perking up after looking listless for a week.   spent most of the day doing chores outside.  i cleaned the chicken coop, raked the pen and worked in the garden.  transplated the fig saplings james started from cuttings last fall, and planted the lettuce seedlings given to us by a friend.  all the veg have sprouted except for summer squash, so i planted more seeds.  

last night, we had dinner with the husband and family of a friend who recently ended her life.  edith's brother lives in duluth, so we bonded over farm tales.  he explained how he successfully super-glued a hen who'd been nearly torn apart by a wolf.  i was glad that our stories and iphone pics (cute little lambs are always a hit) added some levity to a difficult time.  edith's husband asked us to take her upside-down tomato plants, which are apparently huge and loaded with fruit.  looking forward to enjoying them but also slightly concerned, considering my track record with tomatoes.  hopefully edith will watch over and save them from my brown tomato thumb.

life and death

i lost my favorite hen yesterday.  we bonded when i nursed her back to health last year.  she was blind in one eye and had isolated herself in the coop to the point of starvation.  i fattened her up, re-introduced her to the flock and watched her thrive - until last week.  i'm not sure exactly what happened, but she seemed to have broken an egg internally.  though i thought she was improving, she died right around dusk.  it may seem strange that someone could mourn the loss of a chicken, but i do.  i will miss her.

i've become more familiar with death than i ever imagined i would be.  i'm coming to accept it more (what choice is there?) and fear it alittle less, though i can't imagine ever becoming indifferent to it.   i don't have the luxury of turning away like i once did -  i'm there to face it when the time comes.  though heartbreaking, it's also a privilege to share the last moment of a creature's life with them, to comfort them as they take a last breath.

we've had a few close calls that resulted in miraculous recoveries - a ram with pneumonia so bad that he couldn't stand, a rooster with a respiratory infection who could barely breathe, a hen who was flayed from her wing to her leg by a spur.  by necessity, we've honed our veterinary skills, and i can now give injections, intubate, de-bride wounds, de-worm and trim hooves.  we vaccinate yearly and have a great vet who makes house calls.  still, sometimes nature takes an unexpected course and despite all of our resources and good intentions, i realize that we are not really in control.   sometimes all we can do is watch things unfold and try to punt the best we can.

my friend and neighbor, pattie, has been there to help me with many health emergencies.  she's a die-hard texan, with a quick wit and a generous heart (and a serious ability to punt). she breeds blue-eyed dairy goats, and was there to support me when we nearly lost a lamb this spring (he recovered). unfortunately, she was dealt a very bad hand last month when her beloved doe, azula, went into labor late one night.  she delivered a kid, then grew progressively weaker.  they could feel that there were still three babies inside, but something was very wrong and she couldn't deliver despite hours of labor (it was later discovered that one of the kids was stillborn and blocking the canal).  pattie had to make a difficult choice (one that i hope i will never have to make) between losing everyone, and losing azula but possibly saving the babies. the next morning, pattie asked a friend who was an experienced hunter to come to her house. after she said a tearful goodbye to her doe, he put her down with one clean shot.  they went to work quickly and were able to save another kid.  i'm in awe of her for enduring that with such grace.  what an amazing thing to experience life and death on that level, to move forward and find joy despite the overwhelming pain.  she's now the mom of two adorable bottle babies but she will always miss her beautiful azula.