Henrietta "Boo-Boo" Hen and the End of an Era

             

                                            Eventually, as Winter came, a fitted tarp was secured to

                               the top of the kennel to prevent their flying out, and being caught by predators.

 

 

 

           Henrietta, "Boo-Boo" was a chick who hatched one summer from an unplanned breeding between one of my particularly speedy and beautiful quick moving Bantam girls, and a much larger Rhode Island Red rooster.  Unplanned, successful hatchings are rare, in part because some of the chickens aren't particularly good mothers and also because the temperature variant even in summer can be broad.  Most fertilized eggs, unless we incubate them do not result in a successful chick here.  Henrietta was one in a million. 

                Because she had been hatched at a time of year that was unusual, and was smaller than the other hens of her type, she tended to be picked on. She frequently received boo-boos, and they seemed to attack her comb, which is quite vascular and can bleed a great deal. Eventually I decided that the older girls were dangerous to her, and I decided to place her in a different hen house with a young rooster who could protect her.  The two happily played house together for years in their own pen, and survived attempts to get them by coyotes, raccoons, young foxes and even a possum. Each day, Henrietta produced a perfect brown egg, which I collected and usually used each day, mostly because she was so proud of the egg.

                After about thirteen years, her mate died, early on a Fall morning.  I wasn't sure what to do for Henrietta.  Eventually, I placed an elderly rooster, a brother of her former spouse, in the pen with her, and although she seemed relieved, I don't think it was quite the same. The following year, her second mate died of old age.

                By then, she was no longer producing eggs and I thought that perhaps she could live with a couple of girls who were also getting on in years. Unlike some farms, I do not cull the chickens when they no longer produce eggs.  It costs me little to allow them to live out their lifespans.  The hens did not welcome Henrietta, again seeming jealous.

                Eventually, I placed her with a Lavender Orpington rooster who, although he was beautiful and a bit vain, didn't seem to want to bother her.  He kept her safe, and she seemed grateful for it.  Recently, at what would normally have been about two years beyond her normal life expectancy, she got wobbly. I looked at her closely and decided that she probably had the end of life pneumonia that takes most of them in the end. I decided to provide one round of antibiotic, one because she had a roommate and I wished to keep him healthy, and two because she would not be eaten and would not be producing eggs and so the antibiotic would not cause food chain issues. She did seem to improve, and was eating and drinking well the following day. Several days after, one morning, I found that she had died while sleeping in what looked like a comfortable position.  Her latest rooster friend was most upset, not understanding how very old she really was, and how she had cheated death so many times in one way or another.

               Thank you God, for the gift of this sweet, gentle, long lived girl. She was the very model of gratitude,  Please keep her for me, until I get home to the farm in the sky, and I can resume my duties.

                 Although this is an ending, it is also a beginning. A couple of weeks after Henrietta's passing, I put the young Lavender Orpington rooster nearby five young Asian black hens I had bought.  In about fifteen weeks, he will begin his task as their protector.

    

In Memory of Sweet Sheila

This is Sheila, during the Spring of her last year.

                       A couple of years after Daniel died, a new family moved in to a tall farmhouse, about four miles from here. They had a number of children and were determined, just as we had been, to provide their children with positive experiences with animals, and skills as to how to care for a variety of them.  The fields adjacent to their home, at that time, were filled with brown sheep.  A few times that week, I drove past the home while on errands.  On one of the times I drove past, I noticed a smaller sheep walking along the road, about a quarter mile from the field of sheep itself. I routinely keep a new leash in my glove compartment, which is usually used to rescue lost dogs I see from time to time, in our rural area. This time I  parked at the side of the country road, approached the sheep, and wrapped the leash around his neck and gently secured it while talking gently to him. He happily followed me back to the house with the sheep, which is where I had imagined he'd come from. The lady who answered the door was watching children as the mother had just come home from the hospital with a new baby. She struggled to find a leash so that I could have mine returned as she relocated the sheep.

                  When I next had occasion to talk to the family and ask them how the mom and new baby were doing, I learned that it was the mother-in-law who had collected the sheep that day. The man thanked me for returning the sheep and asked me if I would like to take home a couple of the sheep.  I wouldn't normally have wished to take on two sheep, but with several of our kids in college, we had recently decided not to breed alpacas any longer, and we thought Cammie, our youngest alpaca, might enjoy a young sheep as a surrogate baby. We were happy to take on a second sheep because ideally, animals should always be housed with at least one other of their own species.

                  The man charged us a nominal fee for the young male sheep, and the same for his mother.   He told us that they were Cotswold sheep, in fact, they were even rarer than that. They were Black Cotswold sheep.  He was parting with them because both of them tended to be escapists, and because he had more than enough animals suitable for breeding.   We brought them home, in a regular car with tarpaulins put down,  to pastures set up for our alpacas, and to our family of about five alpacas from our original herd, and never had any challenges with their attempting to escape. I later decided that both Sheila, and her son, were brighter than normal sheep and that this is why they had tended to challenge restrictions in their original home.  At first, they were kept separately from the alpacas, and then after a suitable introduction and time spent to make sure everyone was well,  Sheila, the female sheep was housed with some alpacas. The younger male sheep, which we named Tesla for his superior intellect, was housed with Cammie, our prize alpaca.  Everyone got along well.

                 Almost ten years have passed since Sheila and her son came to live with us. They have been trouble free and gentle creatures, and great companions to our alpacas. As time went on, and our alpacas reached twenty to twenty-four years, one by one, most of the alpacas died.  This left more and more pasture and more solitude to Sheila.  Earlier this year when I was considering the routine worming that all animals on a farm should have considered, I realized that Sheila was already beyond normal life expectancy.  I realized how lucky we have been to have this lovely sweet sheep with us each day. She was able to see her son Tesla daily, as part of his pasture was adjacent to hers.

                Sheila continued a calm and peaceful life until a day last week, when she seemed a little slower than usual to rise as I approached.  We made sure we spent plenty of time with her that day. The following day, she had Cheyne-Stokes respirations, and she died peacefully later that morning, while we were present.

               Sheila was the recipient of a typical farm funeral just outside the paddock with all of the animals, including her son Tesla present.   We were so lucky to have this dear creature as a companion to us and to our other animals.

Your Pets Cannot Give You Coronavirus

               

                This is Ranger, who was sheltered for a time at the shelter mentioned.


  It has come to my attention that in the midst of coronavirus that in some places, particularly Southern California, that people are abandoning their pets in droves.  Although some early coverage stated incorrectly,

 Your dog, cat, rabbit or other house pet cannot give the COVID-19 coronavirus to you.


All that relinquishing him with do, in these times, is to ensure his euthanization.  Many, many pets have been euthanized during this time because of the disparity between the number of animals being relinquished and the number being adopted.

                 Please keep your animals. 

   If you wish to adopt an animal then contact your local pound or find our when East Valley Animal Services is open again. They always have lots of beautiful dogs and animals waiting for homes, and they euthanize many. 

  http://www.laanimalservices.com/shelter-search/east-valley/

In Gratitude for Sable

       

                                                                   Sable


 


          In 2009, we were called to adopt a beautiful adult dog from a shelter who had a persistent and ongoing case of dermodectic mange.  This is a type of mange that is not communicable, per se, but is caused by an exaggerated reaction to the mites that all dogs naturally have occupying their skin. Often dogs with ongoing dermodectic mange, have other autoimmune issues, which occasionally include lupus.

             Sable was a beautiful dog who still had missing fur around her eyes and muzzle. We were told that now that her dermodectic mange had been treated that it should resolve and she should live normally.  We knew at the time that the possibility of recurrence existed.  In not too many years prior to this, dogs with ongoing cases had to be euthanized.

              About a month later, Sable once again had a severe case of dermodectic mange. She was itching, losing hair, had infected eyes, and had areas of skin that were also infected.  Our vet treated the infections, but needed to do some research as to how to suppress as severe and as continuing a case as she had.   Once again, she recovered, only to backslide again, every time the daily drug which helped to prevent her reaction was withdrawn or the dosing schedule amended.  In addition, Sable had a touchy stomach and couldn't receive the oral version of the drug as often as she needed it to inhibit the reaction.   Eventually, the vet had me administer Dectomax, which we had on the farm for other animals anyway.  Sable received about a half ml. subcutaneously every third day, and this permitted her to recover, and live a normal life.  Of course, medicating any dog as frequently, with any drug, is not well charted territory.  As much as she needed the drug, receiving it could ultimately cause liver and other problems. Each year, the vet explored cutting back, and each year, Sable would have a flare, and we would have to return to the prior dose. At some intervals, she received Dectomax every other day via subcutaneous injection.   We realized that the continuous use of the drug might decrease her expected lifespan. We also were grateful to have her live a wonderful life here on the farm, and not require euthanization.

             Eleven years have passed since beautiful Sable came to us, and she has enjoyed a wonderful life and has been an important part of the farm. She has played with horses, alpacas, cats, chickens, guineas, ducks, sheep, and other dogs, and now she plays with our grandchildren. Her jet black hair is now gray in places, and her eyes have aged. Despite the thickening of parts of her skin as a result of her ongoing skin process, she still has thick hair, so much so that she frequently resists our putting a turn out style dog coat on her in Winter.

             A couple of days ago, Sable went out, and didn't come back in. When we found her, she seemed unable to walk and more concerning, unable to eat. We have had dogs recover from strokes before and so we were initially very positive. She received an antibiotic in prevention because her lungs seems congested following her neurological event. For the two days that followed, she peacefully lay on her side. We offered food and fluids at intervals, and were prepared to have her euthanized, had she experienced pain or tooth grinding.  Sable passed peacefully in the early afternoon today, probably the result of a stroke.

             When we take on an animal with a chronic illness then we must anticipate some added effort and some expense, but we also should expect a loyal and kind friend. Sometimes a dog who has required specialized medication all of their lives will die early, but sometimes they won't.  My family and I don't regret even one moment of the time we had with Sable.   Sable sweetheart, rest in peace, and thank you for being a part of the farm. It was our honor and privilege to have you here.

The End of an Era

                        A few years ago, these were our ducks. A number of them were older than ten years, and continuing to do well.  Ducks are great animals. They need a clean and secure cage, a kids pool that is changed regularly, and drinking water and good quality food.  They also enjoy salad greens periodically.

                        After more than ten or even more years, some of them began to pass quietly, often in their sleep. But as these animals grew and aged, things around this farm changed too.  Back twenty years ago when we first acquired most of this land, the eight hundred acres or so, close to it or around it, was timbered, and then replanted. Many animals relocated following the timbering. However, in Virginia, wood is very much a renewable resource. Often within 15 years the pine forests are completely back, and the oaks take longer.  While my ducks were growing up, and secure in their dog kennel with a canvas roof, with wooden dog houses inside for shelter, the surrounding woods were growing and thickening.  Animals were returning to the forest, and raising families. With the heavy rains of the last couple of years, the number of family members the predators had, increased.  As my ducks aged, and got slower, and perhaps forgot not to stand near the edges of the doors which have a small space animals might use to grab them, the predators were growing in number and training their young.

                     Within the last couple of years all but two of the above ducks either died of natural causes or as meals to creative young predators.  This week, only two of them were left.  Two of the brown Khaki Campbells, Dexter and Millard, were old, but they were surviving.  They also seemed pretty good at remaining within their dog houses, in their pens, at night.  Their pens looked pretty solid to me, although we have learned over the years that as Winter approaches, hungry raccoons, hungry oppossums, can access most any enclosure.  We have also learned that foxes, both grey and red varieties, when training a group of young, can access almost anything and risk almost anything to feed their young.  So this week, Dexter was found first. A predator had grabbed for him through the very narrow frame around the door of the duck pen. The only good thing about this, is that he likely died very suddenly. Often when only one animal is left somewhere, I move them, but I wasn't sure where I could move the remaining duck, Millard, who also had some markings which suggested he was a Khaki Campbell and Mallard mix.  This morning, when we went to check on all the animals, Millard had been caught exactly as his brother had been.  The ducks lived long lives here, but are now gone.

                   We had ducks here because it was an important part of educating our five children, and because Daniel especially loved them, and got them for Easter one year when he was very small. We enjoyed them because we did occasionally make omelets from their big eggs, which are excellent scrambled or in omelets with chopped chives and cheese added to them. They also make wonderful cakes which stand very tall, when used as a substitution for chicken's eggs. When we had many extra eggs, we also cooked them and gave them as an occasional treat to our dogs, many of which are rescues and could use some extra protein periodically.  We also noticed that female ducks tended to pass before male ducks, we think due to their more complex reproductive systems.   This is therefore the end of about a fifteen or so year era of having and enjoying ducks.

                 I will miss Dexter and Millard very much, as I miss the others, but now, with the forest regrown, and the predators ready for a pre-Winter Thanksgiving meal of delicious duck, it seems foolish to have ducks here again.  We no longer have wolves here, but there are plenty of coyotes, a number of which were thinned by hunters last year.  This generally causes their numbers of coyotes at least, to swell again the following year. We also have a bumper crop of gray and of red foxes, the result of a neighbor who was licensed to breed them for hunting, and then during a flood, lost almost all of his breeding stock. We now have rather demanding gray and red fox, who will directly challenge us from time to time. We also once saw a black fox.   Possums and raccoons abound here, and so, our ducks, whether young or old, would be endangered.


                  Perhaps the kindest thing to do is to admit that the farm has changed and that poultry may not be safe here any longer.  We will miss you.

A Tribute to Beautiful and Sweet Walter

             

Walter

            I dislike giving the impression that there is a lot of death on a farm. The reality is that there is a lot of life on a farm, and wherever on Earth there is life, there will eventually be a passing. All animals, and all people eventually pass.  Of course, we try to keep them alive as long as possible, and we take great joy when they exceed normal life expectancy for their species, and are still well and enjoying living their lives.  In totality, we have been very lucky on this farm and most of our species have outlived normal life expectancy, including a couple of alpacas who died just weeks shy of their twenty-fifth birthdays !   However, there have been a few individual losses of animals earlier than normal life expectancy, and these leave us sad, hungry for more information as to how to treat these animals when they do become ill.  Even with competent camelid vets, alpacas are exotics. In the wild, they hide discomfort, birth and illness so as not to show weakness to predators. This means that even on farms, they may be feeling poorly with no such indication to their caregivers. By the time the caregivers have figured out there is a problem, the disease or disorder is well entrenched and often, according to the vet, is very difficult to reverse at that point. Often, the first indication you might have that an alpaca is in trouble, is the day before he dies.  In addition, this year on the farm, a number of animals are indeed very old, and the price of giving homes to animals forever, is that some years will involve multiple burials and multiple animal funerals.

         Walter joined us from a petting zoo quite a bit West of here, about three years ago.  He has always been a curious and loving individual. He had been a good breeder at his prior home, but we did not have plans to use him in that way.  When his fiber grew in, he looked huge, like a giant walking cotton ball, and sheering him was easy, because he stood perfectly still.  He was not a fan of having toenails trimmed, but he tolerated everything done for him.   He was sick one time, in Spring,  about two years ago when he ate some type of week by craning his long neck over the fence. It made him quite ill as he vomited and foamed at the mouth for a couple of days. Eventually, I found a vet who would come about the time the issue resolved, and we removed any weeds within long neck reach of his fenced area.  He has done well since.

       We were aware that unlike our others, Walter preferred to eat pelleted grain from a dish on the ground, and that sometimes, he preferred it to be sprayed with fresh water before eating. There were one or two episodes of choking I remember over the years.  He has always been energetic and sweet and has been a good friend to other alpacas, the occasional sheep and to our horses.

         His loss was a very big surprise to us.   He joins a large herd that we first established in the 1990s in Heaven.  I believe he has a mother and a sister still living, and a number of male and female offspring.  I believe that Walter was only eleven.  He will be missed.

Sally Ann Goes Home

Sally

        In 2004, when we moved our alpacas and our dogs to new acreage and a new barn in anticipation of the completion of a new house, one of our dogs died suddenly, the apparent result of being swarmed by yellowjackets in that years very hot Summer. Despite the fact that we actually had veterinary epinephrine, we arrived likely minutes after she had passed.  We lost our golden retriever Albert that day who was a dear and gentle friend.

       A few weeks later, a female golden labrador, who could have been a sister to Albert arrived there. She had a cheap blue collar I noted had come from the Dollar Store.  She was in no hurry to leave. We fed and watered her, and tied her as we tried to locate her owners.  I put pictures of her with an information sheet at seven different local gas stations and grocers, and since we are very rural here, I placed some as far as thirty miles from here, since so many people commute. I contacted five animal shelters as lost animals in the country often originate from surprising distances, all to no avail.  No one called us, and no one locally had ever seen her before.  We took her to the vet to get her a rabies shot. The vet didn't know of anyone missing such a dog, and eventually they put us in touch with the local pound, where several weeks later, we adopted her.

               Our youngest son Daniel always enjoyed animals, and this one year old puppy was no exception.Daniel named her Sally. In fact, she also had a middle name, which was Ann.  She was very calm, sweet and devoted. She adapted quickly to our other dogs, and a couple of months later, we had her spayed. She enjoyed our farm animals, and she never ran off. She always stayed near the kids, and she watched them carefully.

                Finally the new house was complete, more farm buildings came, and four glorious years passed. In 2008, when both my father and Daniel who was only twelve and a half died of a sudden cardiac arrhythmia, all of our animals missed Daniel desperately. Sally had a way of listening as if she understood all that you were saying. She had a very comforting manner.  In the years which have passed, Daniel's dogs have all died one by one, each of them making it to quite advanced ages. Jake, the German Shepherd died the following year. Jared, the Siberian Husky also died at about sixteen. Rosheen, the Jack Russell Terrier was in her teens when she passed, and Mark, the black labrador who had seizures, finally died at thirteen. Alvin, a tricolor hound who came to us as a rescue was said to have been twenty when he died.  All through this time, Sally hung on. She was sweet and well, and it was hard to believe that she was as old as she was.  About three years ago, during her vet visit the vet prepared me for the probability that she would probably not make it through the Winter, due to her steadily advancing age. Of course, she did.

               In 2018 Sally had a stroke, and we knew from a dog we had some years ago who also had one, that if you can hand water and feed a dog through the acute phase of a stroke that many of them will recover almost completely within six weeks. So we worked hard to care for her. By six weeks she was nearly completely recovered, and the vet started her on an eighty milligram aspirin each day. We knew her days we limited, but we cared for this sweet dog as if she were human, just as Daniel would have done had he been here. My husband worked very hard to do her physical rehabilitation, and he has videos upon videos of her walking around the farm, in all weathers, sometimes with a coat on that resembles a turn out coat for horses. The vet was astounded at her continued longevity.

             The last few weeks have been rough. She has been failing, but she has not been in pain. We will euthanize our dogs if they are in pain or if they simply don't wish to eat or be cared for any longer, but she has just been slowing down, needing assistance with feeding, and using a sling in order to stand to use the bathroom and to ambulate.  Yesterday, she wasn't hungry and didn't want water. She wouldn't take my special home brew of lemon gatorade formulated for dogs.   Sally passed relatively quickly and easily tonight at midnight with my husband and I standing beside her telling her how glad we were to have had her join our family.  She passed on to Jesus and to Daniel tonight, who now has all of the dogs he knew here on Earth, with him. There is only one more alpaca who remains on Earth that Daniel knew, otherwise all of the animals here on the farm joined us after his departure. It's hard to imagine than eleven years have passed since the day that Daniel was called to leave us.

           Thank you Sally for being such a wonderful part of our lives through joy and through sadness. Please know you are loved very much. Daniel must be thrilled to have you with him now, and you will see your old friends and your beloved kennel mate Benjamin, whom I believe are also with Daniel, and with my father, who also always loved dogs.   Godspeed, sweet Sally Ann.