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Muddy Valley Farm

~ Life on a tiny west coast hobby farm

Muddy Valley Farm

Monthly Archives: February 2018

The Lion and the Lamb

18 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by Jodi in Chickens, Farm Life, Seasons, Weather

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They say that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb; and they are referring to the weather of course. It is still mid-February, but today’s weather blew that bit of doggerel through my mind. Warm sun and blue sky, gunmetal clouds and lashing rain, snow needles and gusty wind, softly drifting west coast mist. We had it all, sometimes at once. No hail, but pretty much everything else Mother Nature could throw at us in the way of precipitation, she did.

When I was a kid, our family room had two big picture windows, one facing due north and the other south, and the weather outside each was sometimes different at the exact same time. I found this to be fascinating, and imagined, as I sat square in the middle of the green shag carpet and looked out one way (sunny!), then the other (rainy!), that our house was built directly on some mysterious fault line, but for weather, not earthquakes. Today felt like the weather fault lines crisscrossed our whole muddy valley.

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Tonight I sit in my easy chair beside a warm fire, watching Island boy Teale from Campbell River lay down a great run on a snowy South Korean hillside. The frigid winter wind pushes hard against the Douglas firs towering over the house. Each big gust sends an uneasy frisson up my spine. The trees creak and groan, but defy the wind together, standing as one, as they have for a hundred years. They’re fine. They’ve been through this before. That’s what I tell myself.

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Today was supposed to be the day that 36 two week old baby dinosaurs went to live in their heated outdoor coop. But with Arctic air outflow and snow and freezing temps in the forecast next week, I think I will keep them inside a little longer.

 

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I’m grateful for my well sealed incubator room, far off the beaten path in a corner of the basement and behind two doors, because two week old chicks are stinky, even when their pen is cleaned daily.

I brought a little of the outdoors into their playpen today, a chunk of barnyard dirt with its dense carpet of new grass. A Muddy Valley inoculation. As they climb and explore and peck at it, they injest starter populations of our own peculiar microbrial brew (every barnyard has its own) and begin building their immunity to whatever is lurking in our soil, waiting to exploit vulnerable chickens. Coccidiosis, Mareks, the list seems endless. Chickens have a thousand ways to die.

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This group of chicks is incredibly robust. I am delighted with their vigour. I chose their parents carefully and took them off the treat train for months before breeding. I fed the freshest breeder ration I could lay my hands on, cut with a bit of high protein starter.  I free ranged them in relays, each breeding group in their own turn, to keep them happy and content. Everyone knows that happy parents make the best babies. And I can see the results. I candled my second test batch tonight, and all are fertile and developing and due to hatch next week. Hopefully into a slightly less wintry world.

 

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Winter has us clenched tight still in his icy claws, and he isn’t letting go, not for a little longer anyway. But he has to go some time, and soon enough spring’s delicate warmth will brush our cheeks as as she casts her fresh green skirt, dotted with fragrant spring flowers, across our muddy valley.

Tonight, I will sit by my fire, and listen to the wind roar through the treetops, and the rain beat and the ice tinkle on the skylights, and the creek tumble through the valley bottom, speeding its heavy storm water load down to the sea. I am warm and dry, and my loved ones are too, and springtime is just around the corner.

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And She Speaks Fluent Chicken!

03 Saturday Feb 2018

Posted by Jodi in Chance, Chickens, Farm Life

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I first saw Liza perched on top of a rock, mistress of all she surveyed, in a fetching photo in a “Dog for Free” ad on the Used Victoria website. My eldest had recently lost her old border collie Ginny, who came home with K after her summer job at a Chilcotin dude ranch the year she turned 19. So I sent K the link immediately.

As a child K was always bringing home animals, and her Dad and I had, over the years, learned to roll with the punches. After surprise new pets ranging from a feisty cockatiel to a 16 hand Standardbred gelding appearing on our doorstep, a border collie seemed quite reasonable. Besides, to hear K tell it, with much shrugging of shoulders and “what else could I do?” Ginny had adopted K, not the other way around.

K always met her pet ownership responsibilities cheerfully and thoroughly, and we learned to just sit back and enjoy the ride. She even turned a profit on one or two of her acquisitions, although the Paint mare she bought one year did put her in the hospital with a broken pelvis for a time.

K emailed Liza’s owner right away, as did about a hundred other people. But K was one of the first, and the prospect of life on a hobby farm with a young, fit, work-at-home hiking enthusiast led Liza’s family to choose K as Liza’s new owner.

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Liza’s first family loved her lots, and had vetted and trained her thoroughly. But family challenges, including divorce, another high-need dog, busy children and full time work outside the home led them to realize something had to give, and so they gave Liza the chance of a happier life.

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Liza has been on the farm now for a couple of years, and is totally devoted to K and her barnyard crew. We all, especially Chance, love her dearly. She is a bit of a bitch, but we work around it, and anyway that facet of her personality just makes Chance love her all the more. She is learning to get along with Mocha, daughter #2’s rescue pittie, even though Mocha IS a FEMALE (ugh!) and DOESN’T let Liza boss her around (double ugh!).

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These days, Liza stays busy around the barnyard, keeping a matronly eye on everything and everybody. If another dog comes to visit, and Chance gets playing too hard with the interloper, Liza steps in and settles things down, sometimes quite forcefully, to the point where she has earned the nickname “the fun police”.

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If we call Chance to come, and he doesn’t obey right away, she disciplines him. Other dogs might take offence, but not Chance, he loves to be chased, and loves Liza’s attention, even if it is accompanied by a growl and a snap. They make a good couple.

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If the horse or donkeys are running around like idiots, as they do from time to time, Liza will creep close, crouching low to the ground, begging K with her eyes to let her herd. But K never does, equines have sharp hooves and donkeys in general are known for occasional violence towards dogs. So Liza restrains herself, and simply keeps a close eye till things settle down again.

She has also self-trained into an awesome LGD – livestock guardian dog. Absolutely fascinated with chickens, especially the tiny cheeping ones, she has helped me with them, in a supervisory capacity, since day 1. All that exposure, coupled with her excellent mind, means she now knows exactly what the chickens are saying when they use their various calls. She speaks fluent Chicken.

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Chickens have a language all their own, as any flock owner will tell you. Our flocks free range, which exposes them to many predators. Luckily Liza is on the job. When she hears a rooster give warning, she reacts as quickly as the flock, and often much quicker than me, sighting the danger and giving chase. It’s quite something to see, this dog racing across a field, head craned up, barking and growling at the sky like a crazy thing, tracking an eagle or hawk as they reconnoiter the barnyard hoping for a tasty meal of fresh chicken.

I always worry she is going to slam right into a fence, or the creek, or run out into the road, since she isn’t looking where she is going, but keeping her eyes trained on the danger. But she never does, and she always stops at the property line, then trots back to resume her supervisory role, with the satisfied air of a good job well done.

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