Animals

Recently, Dane, our 18-year-old Warmblood, decided to take an extended break from work. Now, he didn’t put in for vacation (or “PTO” as it’s now often called), we certainly didn’t receive any email requests, and it wasn’t on my Outlook calendar either. But for 45 days — yes, 45 days — that punky Hanoverian would not let himself be caught. Trainers tried, cowboys tried, even cute little kids in pink cowgirl boots got in on the action, but the horse was officially ON VACATION.

Yesterday, Michelle and her friend Amanda got a rope around Dane’s neck as he devoured a bucket of sweet feed. But who are we kidding? The horse knew exactly what he was doing and surrendered quietly — as if deciding he had had enough time off and knew it was time to get back to work, or at least enjoy some treats. Today, everyone is happy, including Dane. And he even got a bath.

Thanks, MB, for catching our horse at last. We owe you some treats!

We got Adrian a little trail horse last summer and named him “Rodeo.” It’s kind of a joke, because this little Chestnut Paint has absolutely no “go” in him. He walks, he stops, he ponders life. He might trot or canter a little bit if you’re wearing big spurs and growl at him. But mainly he just wants to mosey ’round the farm taking his own sweet time. He’ll follow you around like a puppy dog hoping for treats, and loves to ride “nose to tail” as they say, when out on the trail with other horses. He’s the perfect kid’s horse: sweet, slow, safe and snuggly — and you can ride him bareback all day long with just a lead rope and halter. Come for a visit and we’ll toss you on him and go for a spin. No brakes required.

Michelle’s latest  project, “Libbie,” arrived last week from North Carolina. A Belgian Draft-Thoroughbred cross, this sweet girl is just 3 years old and already standing 17+ hands tall. But the only intimidating thing about her so far is the way she comes galloping up to your golf cart when you go out in the pasture to pay a visit.

Mike’s getting pretty good at designing and building chicken coops. This year, we might even try to get on the Urban Coop Tour. After a little dry spell, our fat red hens — Sam n’ Ella — have been stepping up egg production in the city, probably because they love their new house so much. And the new pad affords much more privacy for this egg-laying business. Plus now, the Danes can’t sneak into the nesting boxes to steal our breakfast.

Thinking about getting some chicks? We’ll be happy to share advice, and tell you about all the things we’ve done wrong. And maybe Mike D. will build you your own customized coop. (Tip: He’ll work for beer, or a nice bottle of Cab.)

Buried Alive! Sam’s Eggs-citing Adventure

Why the new city coop with so much privacy and two locking doors? Because Sam, the bigger hen, decided to start nesting under the doghouse a few weeks ago, only we didn’t know it — at least not until the Danes managed to bury her under their house. We came back from grocery shopping one afternoon and only one chicken ran up to greet us (and if you haven’t seen a chicken run, YouTube it). Pretty soon we were frantically looking for the other bird, searching neighbors’ yards, driving up and down the street, calling for her like fools, and looking for any evidence we could — without so much as a feather to be found. Finally, we determined a hawk must have swooped down and got her and that poor Sam was gone for good. But then, a day or so later, Ella kept standing beside the doghouse calling out and we heard this faint, muffled sound coming from underneath. I yelled for Mike, who grabbed a shovel and starting digging out dirt and leaves, and sure enough that dumb bird had been stuck under the doghouse, with no food or water, for two straight days. And just what do you think we found lying next to Ms. Sam when we finally pulled her out? Three perfect eggs.