Really Missing Florida

Just when things start to melt and we think we can come up for air we get pounded again.  The photo to the right was taken on my phone on my way to work the other day. Pretty much sums up the lapses in sanitation, dirty snow, parking problems and general slogging of a typical commute. 

This is the time of year that I miss Florida the most.  It’s always fun to take off your boots only to step into a puddle of water from snow that has melted off of someone else’s boot a few feet away and have to change your socks.  Or to discover that your favorite boots won’t zip up anymore.  Or find  that your dog has decided that she doesn’t want to brave the deep snow and is doing her business on the deck instead.  And these are just the boot gripes!   I never even wore boots when I lived in Florida.

That is not to say that we are totally without beauty here in the Northeast. Sometimes the snow sticks and sometimes it sticks around. 

Each plant has a unique way of being enhanced by snowfall.

I like guessing what critters have been scooting across



Rabbit?



I can tell a stepping cat from a running cat. And a bluejay from a sparrow. 

A Fraidy Cat

And something did happen today that made me smile.  Stella laid her first egg!  A lovely rosey beige color.



Go Stella!

We also got our first egg from Goldi in almost 2 months.  So there may be more souffles in our future.  Since egg laying is dependent on the number of daylight hours, I wonder if the production surge has anything to do with it being Groundhog or Candlemas Day -- the day halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. 

I’m sure you have your own list of winter discontents.  Feel free to gripe in the comments section. 

Tinkerbell

One of the many neighborhood strays. We’d see the tail end of her almost every time we walked down the stairs of the deck toward our chicken coop.  A little grey feline creature, obviously attracted to the chickens, but scared of people and poodles.  She would dash over the fence to our neighbor’s yard and hide under his trailer whenever we appeared. 

Not wanting one of my chickens to become her next meal, I set a Haveahart trap and baited it with dogfood.  Sure enough, next morning, she was caught. 

She did not like being picked up in the cage and transported to my garage.  She fought and scratched, hissing the whole time.  We had a beauty on our hands, though.   With her soft, silver grey coat, white bib, and green eyes, she reminded me of the cat I had when I was growing up, Tinkerbell.  So that’s what I’m calling her.  

After looking into those eyes, the plans I had to take her to the shelter were thrown out the window.  They told me frankly that a cat who is not friendly has almost zero chance of being adopted and would almost surely be euthanized.  Over the holidays, I read an article about how overrun our local shelter was with cats.  Well, what you do?

I looked at the website of Ally Cat Allies, a DC-based organization that helps people live with feral cats.  We talked about training her to be our pet.  Everybody loved the idea, but I’m barely surviving the allergy I have to my poodle.  There is no way I can add a cat to the mix and expect to be able to breathe.   So Tinkerbell was let go to resume her life as a free, chicken stalking, backyard stray…and I fear we haven’t seen the last of her.  Quite a few people have told me that it’s rare for a domestic cat to attack full-grown chickens, but not so sure about a hungry stray. 

I’m currently doing some research to find out if there are vets in our area that participate in the Trap Neuter Return program, a humane way of controlling feral cat populations.  Learn more about the benefits here.   If you know anything about these programs in our area, please email me at nyackbackyard@gmail.com.

UPDATE FOR ROCKLANDERS - Since I wrote this post, I've discovered two Rockland-based stray cat advocacy groups.  Both work with vets who participate in the Trap/Neuter/Release program, and also foster and place cats for adoption.  Links are provided to their websites, where you can go for more info.

CARE ABOUT THE STRAYS
P.O. Box 523, New City, NY 10956
New City, NY
TARA (845) 754.7100

FOUR LEGS GOOD
P.O. Box 103
Pomona, NY 10970
877-856-2616
fourlegsgoodnynj@gmail.com

Lady Ambassador of South Sunset

May 7, 1997 – August 27, 2010

International Prayer Day 1999  was a time for contemplation.   Imagine our surprise when we returned from the water’s edge just after sunset to find a big yellow lab satisfying an eating disorder by consuming our entire picnic.  With minimal urging, and no one else around, she came home with us.  Her tag identified her owner, we called, and he came to pick her up about 3 AM.  This time my talking disorder proved to be a stroke of genius when I blurted out that if he ever wanted to part with her we’d take her.  He brought her back to us the next afternoon, together with her food, leash, bed, and toys.  She was often in a kennel, he said, because he traveled a lot, and when he was home, she’d do anything to get to the water, like going through the screen door.

Matilda, forever to be known as Tillie Elizabeth Louise, found just the place she wanted to be, a dog beach to the east, a huge sandy beach to the west,  and a jillion people walking by to greet. 

And greet them she did, stationing herself at our gate and barking “hey, c’mon over you guys”.  Her love for our close-by neighbors, Aunt Arline, Ron and Mary, John and Phil, and all of the wonderful neighbor dogs, made every day a special day for her.  And she made every day a special day for us, teaching us love, patience, forgiveness, and how to wag our tails at the world.

 *****************************************************

The above is a guest post from Ross (my dad) and Wendy, who lost their beloved Tillie in August.  They're not kidding when they said how much Tillie loved the water.  Here's a link to a post I did on this blog about my experience taking Tillie, Miss B and another little friend swimming. 

We miss you, Tillie, and will remember you every day!

Goldi Lays an Egg

After twice daily visits to my backyard chicken coop for the past 4 months, are a few eggs too much to expect?  Apparently so, according to my chicken source.  When I wrote to the farm where I bought the pullets to find out when I could expect some eggs, I learned that my special heritage breed girls may not produce until February!   Because of their natural free-range diet and exposure to the great outdoors, I was told, they now sense that winter is coming, and are putting all their energy into making new feathers to keep themselves warm.   Eggs, they said,  might have to wait for warmer, longer days. 

I wasn't happy.  

But then, it happened, about 24 hours later.  We got an egg! 

I knew the egg was Goldi’s because it was blue, and Goldi Macaroni is an Ameraucana-- an “Easter Egger.”  Here's the egg. It's a little creamy, a little greeney, a little teeny. 

Who would’ve thought that Goldi would cross the finish line first?  Goldi is the one in the background.  The little shy one.  The follower.  The one who was the last to eat out of my hand.  Goldi doesn’t pose for photos -- she stays out of the spotlight.    When you see Goldi in the backyard, she’s usually busy, heading away from you.  Either this way.

Or that.

She keeps to herself.  Or maybe, as my mother said, shes concentrating.

I think Goldi deserves a few extra sunflower seeds, don’t you?

Co-existing in Greener Pastures

For a long time, my chickens Leah, Goldi Macaroni and Stella, were content in their little run. I brought them treats, and they ranged around eating bugs and leaves in addition to their chicken feed, all day. Slowly, slowly the green bits in their run started to disappear.

They started jumping up to peck at the leaves on the lowest branches of the trees. It was during one of those jumps that they probably noticed a land beyond. A land of tree stumps and leftover popsicle sticks covered with ants. A utopia of dead flower heads and radish seedlings. They were no longer content in their little run.

Around the same time their wings were growing stronger. They probably noticed that the poodle now took little notice of them, apart from the occasional tentative charge, for which she was typically scolded.

One day, I left the gate of their little run open so that I could supervise them ranging around the yard. Yummies everywhere! It was over. The seed was planted, and the wanderlust began.

Regularly, the girls would hop up on top of their coop, and from there easily clear their fence. It was fine. I had a fenced-in backyard. It would be too hard for them to clear the chain link fence around the yard, wouldn’t it? How naïve.

It might have been okay if my next door neighbor, recently retired and increasingly active in his own backyard, hadn’t noticed them, and been charmed by a visit from what he thought was a mini-flock of wild chickens. He tossed some corn around, and they made friends with him, and his yard. Away they went, every morning, and they always came back.

But one day, they didn’t. Nobody knew where they were. On that day, I had meetings with my boss in Manhattan. I couldn’t climb fences, call neighbors or bring out my own cup of tempting seeds. Children were offered rewards for finding them.  I prepared for the worst, but when I got home around sundown Miss B. had found them in another neighbor's yard, trapped behind their rosebushes.

I hate to clip their wings, because I know they will have a harder time getting away from predators now. The major predator, though, the one in my yard that I was most worried about, has become less of a concern and more of an ally.

Our Scariest Chicken Day Yet

I don't know if it was scariest for me, Miss B. or the chickens, but I think it's safe to say we were all rattled afterwards. 

We were getting in the car for the drive to school when I heard Miss B. barking in the backyard in the vicinity of the coop.  Thinking it might be an invading varmint, I ran back there to see what was up.   The chickens had escaped the run and were just outside the fence.  Miss B. had them cornered and was barking her head off, while the chickens cowered, huddled together, pressed against the chicken wire. 


She could have totally mangled them!  But she didn't.  Instead she 1) Rounded them up and prevented them from escaping into the backyard  2) Resisted any temptation she might have felt to dig her teeth into them and 3) Warned me by barking.  That's my girl!

Thinking back, I had heard Miss B. barking back there for at least 5 minutes before I found this whole scene.  I figured she was barking at a squirrel, which wouldn't have been unusual.  They say that dogs with a strong "prey drive" shouldn't be around chickens.  I'm thinking maybe Miss B.'s is not that strong.   Same thing with kittens and skunks --she loves to chase, but won't attack, and is quick to guard my stuff.  Anyone trying to pick my purse, shoes or jacket up off the floor is risking her wrath. I hope it's the same for anyone trying to make off with my birds!

Meet the Girls

We need help naming our new chickens! We’ve had them almost a week now, and so far all know is that this one is Stella. She has a big white star on her chest. Stella is a Speckled Sussex.

This chick is the biggest, bravest and bossiest. She’s a Cuckoo Maran. Finally there’s the yellow one – Miss Ameraucana.
These girls are 7 weeks old. They’re pullets – or “teenage” chickens. They won’t be laying eggs for another few months, but I’m so glad they’re here! The poor dears have been a little confused, though. On the first two nights we had them, we were out until after sundown. When we came home, they were huddled in the dirt in the back of the run. The S. man stood by with a flash light while I climbed in there, grabbed them and put them up in their roosting spot. (I do wonder if the neighbors witnessed any of this and if they did, what they thought we were doing!) Another night had them roosting up in the trees.

Last night Miss Big and Bossy refused to go up the ramp with the other two. Poor thing ran around and around bawking and bumping her head trying to fly out. She really wanted to stay outside playing, I guess. An hour later after it got dark I went back out to check. All had made it upstairs… and I heard the sweetest sleepy little clucks.

During the day, they love ranging around their little yard. It’s fenced in to keep certain interested parties at a distance. (Thanks to Mr. & Mrs Squirrel for the bricks!) My biggest worries now are raccoons and cats, because they climb. I’ve never seen raccoon in our yard, but there are quite a few stray cats in our neighborhood and they wander through sometimes.

CHICKEN CAM TIME!!

Some of the names in the hat are: Lily, Gretchen, Clover, Maude, Gypsy, Bitsy, Macaroni, Cookie, Dolly, Goldy, Queenie and Buffy. What do you think makes a good chicken name?

Theme Thursday: Pets

Now that Miss B. is a young bride, we wanted to try a fancier, more feminine hairdo. In the past, I’ve always had her groomed with a simple “teddy bear” or “kennel” clip-- a very basic cut that leaves about 1” of hair on the entire body. We wanted to see what she’d look like with a more traditional poodley cut.

There are lots of different ways to clip poodles, and there are historical reasons for some of the more traditional clips. Poodles were bred long ago as “water dogs” - they were used to assist hunters with retreiving their birds. Some speculate that the puffs of longer hair left around the joints of the legs were left there to keep the joints warm in cold water. Shaved areas created less resistance and made it easier for the dogs to move through the water.

Wook at deese wittle paws. Poodles were also known as “truffle diggers.” Smaller poodle breeds were used for finding truffles and the feet were shaved so that they’d do less damage to the fungus.



Our groomer recommended a “donut” around the snout, rather than the shaved face. We may try that next time, though.

Muffin tops. 

Poodles are known to be the second most intelligent breed (after Border Collies). They’re agile, obedient and good with children.

Miss B. needs to be groomed every 6 weeks or so, or her hair starts getting matted. A good argument, I think, for learning to groom at home.

Do you like the fancy do’s on dogs?  Or do you prefer the shaggy look?

Miss B. Gets Married

This photo was taken by my talented photographer friend Squirrel- of the Nyack Snap blog. 

It's our favorite of the day. 

I know people who are absolutely horrified by the idea of dressing up a dog.  Surely this photo proves that there was no pain or loss of dignity involved, but if you are one of those friends and you are reading this, you may not want to proceed.  Just a warning ;-) 
 
I should also employ the following disclaimer: this was not my idea. It was totally planned and executed by the E. girl and her friend V. with some help from their middle school English class. It was weeks in the making.

Thankfully, the weather cooperated, and the Nyack Memorial Park gazebo was available. 

While the girls set up, the couple enjoyed a quiet moment of contemplation. 

Then the guests arrived....

Pepper

Oso and Lucy

Lola

and Coco.

I didn't get a photo of the handsome cockapoo Elgin.  Despite his late arrival, he was quite a social hit.

The bridesmaids helped Miss B. primp.  And prepared the aisle with a sprinkling of flower petals.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today ......what comes next???"

"Ok, you may lick the bride!"

"Announcing Mr. and Mrs. Chip!"

Cupcakes, rawhide and doggie champagne were among the reception treats.

It's been decided that the bride and groom will maintain separate residences.  Why mess up a good thing with cohabitation?  Also, to quell any rumors that it was a "shotgun" wedding, both the bride and groom have been "fixed."  Sorry to disappoint, but no puppies will be available.

Many thanks to the wedding planners!   And wishing the Bride and Groom many years of happiness together.