I must apologize for my absence. Yesterday, I thought it was August and, today, the calendar confirmed it’s already October. Just today, I have two chickens in sick bay, a thumb that may have been forever damaged by our evil “Baby” ram, scratches consuming my legs as kittens don’t seem to care if you’re wearing shorts or pants, and such a back-order of jam that I need a few interns just to stir the pots. The donkeys just sit at the fence gate braying orders at me like I’m some kind of ranch hand. Everyone needs to calm down and have a cocktail or two.
Kittens are better than puppies. They know to pee in one place almost immediately. They don’t need to be patrolled all the time, and their little nails can dispatch an intruder in quick work; albeit they’ll be taking them down at the ankles. One peculiar habit, however, is they love playing in their litter box. I’ve been impressing upon them the wisdom of Moonstruck (i.e. “Don’t sh*t where you eat”) but they just look at me, meow, and role back into the box with an almost too comfortable ease.
Our little kitten Popsicle has learned to crawl from the ground, up your leg, up your shirt, and land on the shoulder, perched like a parrot. She will be my top minion, learning my every move, constantly at my side. Don had better watch out, she is learning ninja moves that will serve her well in the barn. If she ever makes it there. I have a problem sending kittens that individually weigh one pound each to live in a barn, outside in the big world like little Fievel or baby Simba. A pig could roll over top of them, a llama step on them. The chickens, much larger than our kittens, could use them as pawns in some intra-barnyard war against the ducks.
This Friday we’re picking up two peahens for our boys in the big coop. We’ll see what drama that brings. And then Orchard House will close down our pastures for the winter. No other animals are allowed on site until we have a new pasture. And hay is so expensive. If you can find me a llama that can spin straw into gold or manure into hay, we’ll make the room. And if you can find one that knows how to mix a killer martini, I’ll drive and pick him up myself!