Tag: farm stories

An Owl Story

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Just the other day, my son and I were having a conversation about animals, and he asked me what my favorite animal was. I explained that I could not choose–dogs, cats, chickens, donkeys, elephants, squirrels, Eastern Phoebes…How can one choose a favorite animals?

“My favorite is the owl,” he said.

“Oh, that’s a cool favorite,” and I added that owls, though magnificent, are scary to me because I am a chicken and duck mama. I told him about the video I saw of what an owl does to a duck and that I was kind of scarred for life from it.

He understood, but we both agreed that an owl has to eat too and that they are, indeed, magnificent animals.

Two nights later, I would have a close encounter with an owl that I just have to write about.

It started with a perfect storm of circumstances, as these stories always seem to do. I was really hungry, and it was late. I decided to go ahead and eat dinner quickly before putting up the ducks, which now includes an Anna Maria rodeo because she doesn’t like sleeping in the bathroom.

Of course, there is no choice, so I rodeo every night. She complains and fights me. I tell her this is for her own good. She doesn’t believe me. I give her peas, put her in her nest. That’s what we do every night now. Then, I work to get the rest of the ducks put up. They love to party late during the summer, so it’s all a bit of a chore.

Anyway, it was getting pretty dark by the time I finished dinner. On top of this, Bairre was in a mood because he didn’t get to have for dinner what we had for dinner, so he was doing his “thing” when he’s being difficult and doesn’t touch the ducks because he’s not supposed to but gets really close to them to make them upset. The ducks are just fine when Boudica is near them, but Bairre cannot yet be trusted. I don’t blame them. He’s such a puppy still, and his track record is sketchy.

I managed, despite Bairre causing his chaos, to get Anna Maria caught and put up. By the time I headed back outside, the ducks were acting really strange. I thought maybe it was just Bairre, but it seems a little extra. I was making my way around to the corner to go see what was going on when I heard the owl–and it was in the tree right above my head!

I was panicked. It made some sounds that did not sound good for my ducks. For a second, I just froze, trying to calculate how quickly I might be able to get to the ducks. Thanks to Bairre, they were out in the middle of the yard. Usually, when it gets even close to dark, they will stay under the deck or near the house. But they were out there in the wide open, and an owl was on it.

I began hollering for Ron or our son for help, but I was pretty sure they weren’t coming. Ron was in the basement, and our son, who was outside, was wearing his AirPods. He always has those things in his ears. He listens to music every second he’s awake if he can, and it gets a little old when I’m trying to get his attention and have to hunt him down. Anyway, I was cursing those AirPods.

I heard the owl make a wild sounding call again right as it flew out of the tree. It was right over my head and going right toward the ducks. In hindsight, it was magnificent to see–those wings right over my head. There was a small amount of light left in the sky, just enough to for me to see the silhouette and some under-feather patterns. My goodness! It was beautiful. Its wingspan was about three feet. I think it was a Barred owl, but I definitely didn’t hear “Who cooks for you?”

The only thing I knew to do, as I could see it was going to be on the ducks in one second and it would probably take me at least 10 seconds to get there, was throw my hands in the air and scream, “NOOOOOOO!”

Just as it made a swoop to the ground, Bairre came bounding around, clueless to the owl but aware enough to see that something was wrong because of the way I acting. Either his presence or mine was enough to make the owl move on. A sense of such relief fell over me.

I started hollering again for Ron, and he finally heard me and came outside to get Bairre, as Bairre clearly had to be put in the house and I clearly couldn’t leave the ducks alone.

Ron got Bairre put up, and I got the ducks put up (they went up super fast, no partying). All was well.

But I was thinking, “there is surely never a dull moment around here, is there?”

photo credit: Sonder Quest, Unsplash

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.

Puppies and Ducks

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 178 of 365

It’s Thursday night, so I have many essays to grade, especially this Thursday because, well, puppy.

But I have a quick story that I am going to try my best to capture on video if it happens again. And I’m guessing it will happen again.

Boudica is starting to really chip in and help with Bairre. This morning, she baby sat for a good two hours. I was so thankful. I got so much done. Still, even Boudica gets worn out from him, and she looks at me like, “Yeah, I’m done.”

This afternoon, they were both outside with Ron while he worked in the duck yard. We do not leave the puppy alone with the ducks yet because he does chase them, and we don’t want a duck to get hurt. Since Ron was outside with them, I didn’t worry, but then I heard a terrible duck commotion. I ran outside just in time to see the ducks going one way and Bairre going the other. I also saw Ron laughing so hard.

“Did you see it?” he asked.

I told him I did not. He said it was too bad because it was hilarious. He said Boudica has been trying to keep in between Bairre and the ducks, but after a bit, she was just done. Ron said Boudica looked at Bairre like, “Go ahead, little boy.”

So Bairre started chasing the ducks when suddenly our male duck, Antonio, turned around, put his bill down low, and just charged the puppy. Ron said Bairre looked terrified and started just running and running with his tail tucked under. Apparently, Antonio chased him for a good bit before moving on and returning to his girls.

Ron said it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. He also added that Boudica thought the whole thing was pretty fantastic too.

PS You see what I see in those eyes, right?

The Strawberries Are Coming

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 37 of 365

Tonight, I am worn, just not as worn as my husband. Ron is expanding our little homestead and having to build a new fenced area for new chickens. He chops cedars, digs holes, and installs fencing all by himself. I don’t even know how he does it.

But when he’s doing that from dark to dark, I am doing all the other stuff. If you have ever lived on a farm or homestead, you know that “all the other stuff” is a lot.

But I have quick updates from life here on Sands End Farm:

  1. The baby Eastern Phoebes are still around! I saw them playing in the yard near the strawberries today. I am over the moon about this, but that empty nest is still tough to see.
  2. Today, when I was grading essays and trying to entertain my adopted brood at the same time, I discovered that my little Lavender Orpingtons, who are the sweetest birds I think I have ever seen, will sit on my arms while I am typing on my computer. They just ride along as I moved my hands from different keys. I have to get a picture of this soon.
  3. And the strawberries are coming. Strawberries are my favorite food in the history of ever. I will have to write more about them soon, but we had about a dozen ripe strawberries today, and the beds are fuller than I have ever seen them. I am hopeful!

Ruby Loves Eggs, Too

~ Crystal Sands ~ 4 Comments

Day 2 of 365

Last night, I put eight hatching eggs under our first broody hen of the season. Her name is Ruby.

One day per week, we drive an hour and a half to Augusta for our son’s orchestra rehearsals. It just so happened that the breeder I contacted about getting some Salmon Faverolle hatching eggs is based outside of Augusta. So, last evening, right before rehearsals, I met the breeder in a grocery store parking lot and got this carton of eggs full of potential for adding a fantastic breed of chicken to our flock. I have been interested in this breed for some time, and I am excited to get these hatching eggs from a reputable breeder, Why Not Farms.

But the best story in all of this is about Ruby. Ruby looks almost like a red version of a Salmon Faverolle, but she is simply a barnyard mix. She is part Easter Egger, part Welsummer, and part Rhode Island Red, and somehow she is just magnificent to look at. She’s so unique–inside and out.

Ruby is a talker. She’s one of the most vocal chickens I have ever met, and as near as I can tell, she likes to complain. She’s low in the pecking order, and I’m pretty sure she complains about the injustice of this. I think she might also complain about wanting treats. She wants to be treated fairly, and Juliet, my most favorite misfit chicken gets treats every day when she flies over the fence from the chicken yard. Ruby, observing this, started doing the same and then complaining loudly until she got treats too. After all, fair is fair.

The most interesting thing about Ruby is that I just happened to be out in the coop this February when Ruby laid her first egg ever! Hatched last summer, without artificial light in the coop, Ruby was later to start laying eggs, so I was so excited when I went out to the coop one day this winter and found her in the nest box for the first time. She was standing up, so I knew an egg was coming soon. I watched and waited, and sure enough, a beautiful pale olive green egg landed in the nest box under her.

And what happened next was like nothing I have ever seen: Ruby turned around to observe what had just plopped out of her and had a look on her face of love. She stared a bit at her egg, like it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And, truly, it was beautiful. The color of her eggs is beautiful.

Eggs are magnificent to me. Part complete nutrition and part work of art, I think eggs are gorgeous. I am not alone in this love for eggs. Chicken people spend a good deal of time taking pictures of eggs and sharing them on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. The eggs are posed in baskets, on tables, and if you have a variety of colors, well, then that’s something extra special. Books have been written on eggs. I own two of them. Somehow, Ruby was the first chicken I have ever met who seemed to get how magnificent eggs are. Most of my hens lay an egg and move on.

The way Ruby looked at those eggs was so interesting to me. I came inside and told Ron, “I am betting right now Ruby goes broody this summer.” I posted this prediction on social media. Sure enough, a few weeks ago, Ruby was the first of the flock to go broody.

Of course, once she went broody as I had predicted, I started to question how exactly I knew this was going to happen. I think it’s just from being observant. I can’t tell you for sure if chickens have facial expressions or if I am reading them in a different way, but chickens do express emotions in a way that seems fairly clear to me. Most people I talk to do not seem to grasp this, but it’s true. I see contentment, frustration, concern, hopefulness, and thanks to Ruby, I saw what adoration looks like in a chicken. Temple Grandin, the scientist and animal behaviorist famous for her efforts in changing the way livestock animals are treated, said that animals have emotions just like human animals. It’s just that these emotions are simpler. This makes perfect sense to me.

This morning, Ruby is still on her eggs. When I put the eight hatching eggs under her last night, she attacked me pretty solidly. This morning, I am bruised, but I don’t mind at all. When I finished putting the eggs under her, I watched her wiggle her little self onto that big clutch of eggs with contentment. Hopefully, her love of eggs will mean she’s a good mother. Hopefully, she will love what comes out of the eggs, too.

We have 21 days until we find out.