Saturday, May 30, 2015

I think I shall change the name of my blog to the "Ramblings of a Mad Farm Woman". Mad as in crazy mind you. It has been absolutely nuts around here lately! And as a result I'm feeling a little nutty myself. Let me explain-
We have managed to trap 3 more raccoons. They have managed to annihilate almost every chick and chicken in the barn. No matter how tightly I have things locked down. I have cried a river over the devastation. The first we trapped I called animal control back out thinking that being the previous one was rabid they may want to check this one out, though they took it, I was informed that in order to trap raccoons I would need to get a permit. Can you see me rolling my eyes? No problem I told them I have a permit for something else and I will take care of things myself. Which I have.
And so on my nightly checks I keep running into other crazy happenings.

This was the first one. My oldest antique dairy goat, that was retired 3 years ago, managed to get herself with child...or should I say children. Yes. Here is the problem. She has terrible hoof issues and doesn't stand for long periods of time. That means I get to go down there 3 times a day, get her up and let the babies nurse. Like I needed ONE more thing to do!
After one 9 o'clock feeding I was wandering back to the house when I heard a distressed peeping noise. One of the newly hatched turkeys had fallen through a storm drain grate. I yanked and pulled and couldn't get it off. I went for hubby and a flashlight. He said no way to get it off without a backhoe cause it weighs 100's of pounds. Ok well I'll crawl through the drain pipe. No can do. You will get stuck. By this time I'm blubbering about not loosing anymore animals. I stomped to the house and came back with a wire ladle and a coat hanger. You have got to be kidding my doubting husband said. Am not and laid on my belly. It took several tries but I finally managed to scoop it up like in a rescue basket snare it's little foot and return it safely to it's mom.
And then there was last night. At 9:30 I was making a final check on babies, turkeys, coon traps and chickens when Luke met me in the driveway. A baby bat had fallen from the nest and was laying there squeaking. Dear Lord. We have a colony of about 31 living under our shed roof and personally I am ok with that. In the house I go. Gloves, shoe box and blankets were gathered. Little Squeaky was gathered up, fed some water and put under a light until morning.
Today I was informed that it is illegal to rehabilitate bats. They are also protected so it is illegal to kill them. I found this all to make perfect sense, don't you? Grrr... after much hullabaloo I have placed Squeaky and hopefully in the near future he will get to come back and join his colony here on the farm.
And so goes life on the homestead!

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