Monday, January 15, 2018

House Goat

I woke up to a rooster crowing about twenty feet from my face. Falkor, the Silkie Rooster, was brought in last night because he got his feathers too wet in the stream and was dragging icicles on the ground around his underside. I set him in a cage across the room from the foodstove on clean hay. He closed his eyes and went to sleep, tired from a day of Chickening. I was glad to have him inside to defrost.

He was on top of the Livestock Winter Quarters inside the house. His cage was resting above the hay-lined crate Benjen the Nubian kid was fast asleep in - ignoring the crows of Falkor the way I ignore gentle rain. Beside him was the rabbit who is here on loan. The dogs didn't seem to mind the crowing either and were tucked around me on the daybed, all of us sleeping near the stove on this -6 degree morning. Falkor (now dry and ready to head outside to his ladies) bellowed again and I was up.

When Benjen sees me and the dogs rise he starts to bleat (an improvement from screaming). His little sounds are kind and I let him out of the cage to run around. He wants his milk and so I set some on the stove to warm up while I take care of relighting the wood stove, feeding the yowling cats, and letting the dogs outside to relieve themselves. He is getting very good and kick flipping off the furniture. It's a sight to behold.

The house is a crisp 50° and while it isn't toasty, it's warm compared to mornings at The Bottom. I kept the sinks dripping steady and so far nothing seemed frozen so I set coffee to perk and started my day.

Chores were next. I carried water in buckets to refresh all the animals' stations. Hay delivered to all (even pigs like to chomp on a little hay), grain in bags, and eggs not collected (Chickens are on their winter production holiday). The truck started this morning and coffee is moments away so I am glad. I'm still riding the high from yesterday. Wait till you hear about this hunt!

While out hunting rabbits with Aya Cash she flew away - hundreds of yards across a marsh and we all thought she was lost. It was a group hunt with the Falconry Meet and she had been flying free for an hour or so and had two slips. She was probably running out of gas and the weather was frigid. While not paying attention to the ground and looking for her in the air I slipped (thigh-deep!) into an icy stream. My feet went painlessly numb and I kept hiking through the snow towards her. I ended up calling her with a rabbit-fur lure and she flew back to me from across the wilderness. I wish I could explain that feeling better - how it fills a body so cold it is literally numb and replaces it warmth and excitement - to see a wild animal trust you enough to come home. If I get through my work list we'll go hunting again today. If we're unlucky I have a rat defrosting for her regardless. No hawk goes hungry in this home!

I feed Benjen his bottle and take him outside to pee. He joins me and the dogs running in the snow while I carry in firewood. It's impossible not to smile at his floppy ears and warm face. Soon as we are back inside he runs right to his favorite spot: in front of the stove. His shiny black coat reflects the kiss of flames behind the safety glass. He closes his eyes and I am in love with this farm all over again.