Tag: animal stories

Anna Maria

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

Day 197 of 365

Today, I was giving the heels from Ron’s homemade bread to the ducks. It’s true that you don’t want to feed ducks too much bread, but this is whole grain bread. I have seen it help heal an injured duck who wouldn’t eat anything else, so I keep giving them whole grain bread as a snack sometimes. Plus, they love it.

I have noticed, however, that one of our ducks seems to have vision issues, and this breaks my heart. It’s Anna Maria, and she has a very special story. I have been meaning to write it for some time. Today, after watching her struggle, I decided to tell her story.

I met Anna Maria shortly after my Poe died. A farmer friend had a female duck who had been over-mated pretty badly. The duck had nearly died, but they were able to save her. When my farmer friend asked me about rehabilitating the duck, she told me the duck was set to be picked up by someone who culls. If I thought she was too much for me, I could pass.

Culling is a reality for badly injured animals. It’s better than suffering. One time, my Broody Hen was so sick, I thought we might have to cull her. Ron had taken our son to orchestra, and her little head was so swollen. I was Googling the most humane way to cull a chicken. Sever the spinal cord. Quickly. I read about the broomstick method. I decided to give her just one more round of meds and a few more hours. The swelling went down a little, and Broody Hen would live three more years. I tell that story just to say that I have no judgment for my farmer friend considering culling. It’s a reality of farming.

My friend told me the duck’s name was Anna Maria, and before I even met her, I wanted to save her. It felt like it was meant to be. I had just rehabilitated one of our ducks who broke her leg on the ice–Anna Sophia.

But then I met Anna Maria. She looked terrible. She had no feathers on her neck, and her skin was rough, kind of scaly. Her skull had been showing before I met her, but her skin had grown back over her skull by the time I saw her–but just barely. Her skin on her skull was so tight that her eyes were pulled back. She had a sinus infection and bubbly eyes.

I was a little scared. I didn’t know if I could handle it, but when I reached down to talk her her, she just came to me. This is HUGE for a duck, especially an Indian Runner duck. They are skittish ducks. But she just came to me, and then I held her the whole time I was at my friend’s farm. She just leaned into me, so calmly. She let me pet her little scaly head. I couldn’t believe it. It was like some kind of miracle. It was like she knew I was there to save her. What could I do but try? It was like something out of a movie.

Little did I know Anna Maria was setting me up. Of course, I am so glad she did, but the first few weeks Anna Maria came home with me, I was exhausted. Her sinus infection had to be treated. She needed medicine. She also needed soaks to help her skin. And she wouldn’t eat the things our other ducks loved. She was wild, out of control. I could calm her down with classical music but not like with our other ducks. The music just kind of took the edge off. And, oh my goodness, her edge was sharp. She attacked me. She bit me–a lot. I was covered in bruises. And she would run from me when it was time for medicine or soaks. I had to dive to catch her. I was middle aged. It was not easy.

But, somehow, over time, she started to heal. Her eyes were no longer tight, but it would be months before she was strong enough to be put with our flock. Our male duck would try to mate with her, and she had to be strong enough to handle it. Ron built her a little shed and a fenced area next to our ducks. Every day, during the day, she could hang out with them through the fence, but she was protected from our male, Antonio.

One of the things that I noticed about Anna Maria during that time was that she didn’t get into the little duck pool I had for her. Our ducks love the water, so it was confusing to me that she didn’t want to get into the water, but she didn’t. How was that possible for a duck?

One day, I decided to start putting one or two of our females in the fenced area with Anna Maria, so she could start to make friends and not be so lonely. I saw her watching as the other ducks would get into the pool and splash around, but she never got in.

And, then one afternoon, the sun was setting and I looked out the back window just in time to see Anna Maria get into the pool all by herself. I watched in awe as she splashed and splashed. Ducks make a move in the water where they put their heads in and then raise up, and the water runs down their backs. As Anna Maria made these moves, I watched the water droplets glisten in the sunlight. They looked golden, and Anna Maria looked magical. She had healed. It was breathtaking watching her enjoy herself for the first time I had ever seen, maybe the first time in her whole life.

Fairly soon, she was able to move in with the rest of the flock. It was stressful at first, but she handled being mated. And, since we have just one male for six ducks, he moved on. She was in the flock, in the club, and she had good home where she had lots of space, a kiddie pool, and peas every night before bed. Oh, and whole grain bread snacks.

Anna Maria is now the favorite duck. Ron adores her, and she loves Ron. She will come running when he calls for her and quack and quack while she talks with him. She still holds a bit of a grudge against me for all that medicine, but it’s not too bad. She will come to me for treats and knows how to tell me what she wants.

I learned a tremendous life lesson from that duck. I learned about loving others on their own terms, not mine. It was a lesson I was going to need very soon as a mother. I like to think that Anna Maria came into my life to teach me that lesson. Hopefully, I have been as good for her as she has been for me.

I am heartbroken that she is having such terrible vision issues. Ron and I started to suspect she wasn’t able to see very well this summer, but today, when I threw the bread snacks right in front of her, she couldn’t find them. In about 20 pieces of bread I threw at her feet, she got one. I just wanted to hug her. Of course, she would hate that.

I looked it up today, and apparently over mating can lead to vision issues. I couldn’t find anything related to long-term vision issues and blindness, but it makes sense that the damage could cause problems later in life. She does well getting around and knows where the peas are. Hopefully, that beautiful duck who has been through so much, even if blind, can have a long, wonderful life.

Black Bear

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 69 of 365

In a strange kind of way, I have a long history with bears. When I was a kid, my reoccurring nightmare was being mauled by a bear. I had it over and over and over. As a result, I am really scared of bears. Ridiculously so, I think. Over the years, we have had enough black bear visits around here that I am not quite so skittish as I used to be. Still, I have to tell you I am NEVER going camping in Yellowstone. Ron is from Montana and has done this, which makes no sense to me whatsoever.

photo credit: John Thomas, Unsplash

We have had bears visit our property several times. Once, it was in the middle of the afternoon. Boudica was a puppy and never even saw it, but Ron and I looked up one day while we were eating lunch on the deck, and there, inside the mobile chicken coop, was a young black bear. He was not eating the chickens, thankfully. He just had his big paws in the chicken food and was scooping it up and into his mouth as quickly as he could. Poor bear!

Ron chased him away, and we called the game warden, just to be safe. The game warden said it was the time of year when young bears were hungry and that, as soon as the berries came ripe, the bear probably wouldn’t be taking such chances.

A more recent bear visit was a visit we didn’t witness; we just saw the aftermath. We were going about our chores one morning when Ron discovered the fence was down. “Only a bear could take down that fence,” he said. Sure enough, as I walked around the chicken coop, I saw two giant muddy bear prints right next to the window in the chicken coop. It was like the bear was peeking in the window to see what was inside. That must have given the chickens quite the fright. Ron repaired the fence, and that was the last bear visit until now.

This afternoon, I got a message from the neighbor who lives directly behind us through the woods that they had a bear right in front of their house last night. It was like 10 feet from their front door. She asked me if we had seen it, but I had not. However, last night, very late, Boudica started acting like a wild dog. She was freaking out, and I didn’t want to let her out because, a couple of weeks ago, she was desperate to go outside and got sprayed by a skunk. Ron and Ronan say she still stinks a bit. I have no sense of smell, so she smells fine to me.

In hindsight, I should have let her out last night, as she is the best bear deterrent there is. I sure wish she still had Gus though. Those two together were the fiercest things I had ever seen. Tonight, however, I knew to let her out and do her barking work.

But when I went out tonight, I forgot.

I went out to play the duck game and put up the ducks and for some reason left Boudica inside. I took the flashlight because Ron said the two of the chickens at the back of our property, right near the woods, didn’t want to go up this evening. He said we needed to remember to close them up later, especially with a bear in the area.

So I got the ducks tucked in and took the flashlight out to close the door on the mobile chicken coop and make sure everyone was tucked in out there too. I decided to shine the flashlight into the woods to see if I could see anything.

I cannot tell you how many times I have shined the flashlight into those woods, half scared because of my imagination, never to see a single thing. Tonight, about thirty feet from me, there were eyes looking back.

I froze, and the goosebumps came. I realized it was the height of a bear and the eye shape made me think bear. They were shining a yellow-green. They were so still and there for so long that I started to second guess myself. Maybe it was a reflection of something, I thought. But then they moved. Then, they were gone.

I ran to the chicken coop door. One rooster was still sitting in the door way. I shoved him into the coop, told him it was for his own good, closed the door, and ran to get Boudica.

“Do your work, Boudica!” I said. And so she did. With gusto.

I came in and Googled pictures of bear eyes at night, and yes, that’s exactly what I saw. Tonight, I am extra, extra thankful for Boudica.

A New Year, a New Adventure, and a New Kind of Blog

~ Crystal Sands ~ 8 Comments

Today is Day 1 of a 365-day project I start with this Farmer-ish blog. I want to try something different. I am going to be honest. I struggle with social media, and struggling with social media is not an asset when you are trying to run and market a new journal. Nevertheless, I struggle greatly.  

It’s hard to fully define the struggle, though I have thought deeply about this for years. Part of my struggle is that I am just so curious. I can’t help but read and click and explore. I study human behaviors in groups and forums. Far too much of it is heartbreaking. And this leads me to the second part of my struggle—I am an empath. One time, I read a post about rescued duck who had been used as a soccer ball by a family in a park. I mean, who does that to an animal? I had trouble sleeping that night and thought obsessively about that poor duck for days. Recently, I started reading about animal rescues in the Ukraine. I have spent more time than I can say crying on my keyboard. Yet I struggle to look away. The magical portal with all the information and all the stories in all the world lures me.

Even before I started Farmer-ish, I was working as a freelance writer and struggling with social media. I wanted something different but didn’t know what that “something different” might look like. I have recently researched other options. I have read all of the blog posts about what works on social media. You have to be authentic (people like that). You’re supposed to do it every day (this doesn’t work when you’re hiding from Facebook). I have read and read and read. Some people give up on the whole thing, this exhausting system of constantly “building your brand.” Some people try newsletters. Some try different kinds of social media. Some have had success. 

After searching my soul, I have a plan. 

For the next year, starting today, May 10, 2022 (the day after my 47th birthday), I am going to write, every single day, something farmer-ish for the Farmer-ish blog. My main goal will be to tell the animal stories of my life. I want the world (or perhaps just the handful of people who will read this blog) to know these animals and see what I see and experience. I used to doubt myself and my connection to animals, but the older I get and the more research I read, the more I believe my experiences are real—and worthy of sharing. 

So join me, if you will. 

I am going to tell you stories about my quirky chicken, Juliet, who doesn’t fit in with the rest of the flock and trades eggs for treats. I am going to tell you stories about a rooster named Rooster, who is reserved and thoughtful and seems to have an unusual capacity for language. I am going to tell you about our ducks and how, every night before bed, I bring them peas in a white bowl and then we play a game. I am going to tell you stories about the Eastern Phoebes who have built a nest on our back deck. 

In the middle of my animal stories, I will also share details of our famer-ish life. I’ll share seasonal recipes and tips on growing, cooking, and storing your own food. I’ll share stories about what my husband is doing in the garden. I’ll share about the things I make—from jam to quilts to bread to candles.

Sometimes, I’ll write a whole essay. Sometimes, I may only be able to share a quote from a book I have read or am reading. It won’t be polished. There will surely be typos. 

But I am putting this goal into writing and hope to keep it. For the next year, I am going to write something here every single day. 

In the end, maybe I’ll have a book. Maybe I’ll just have some writing worthy of reflection. Maybe I’ll find a way to establish a presence on social media (because blogs are a kind of social media after all) that feels honest and good for me—and maybe this process will keep my curious self away from the Facebook posts that keep me awake at night. And, maybe, you will sometimes feel compelled to comment.

If you are reading this, thank you for going on this journey with me—on Day 1 of 365.