The Wild Life

"Well, that's a strange-looking turkey," I thought as I sat milking and looking up at the girls in the corner of the pen.  All I could see at the moment was the head moving along behind the goats.  Strolling along the drive by the fence line was a great blue heron, nonchalant as you please.  This isn't the first I've seen here, but it's always a surprise.  Previously it's been in very early morning down in the pasture, and this bird was out for a walk well after sunrise and right by the herd.  As I watched, the heron lifted its wings and took off in flight.  Talk about big!

All the girls seemed happy to be back in their routine yesterday, forgiving me for their one-day abandonment.  My advice to anyone thinking about getting goats, especially dairy goats, is to be ready for total commitment.

Camille called, heartsick because one of her young cats had gone missing.  The recent chicken raids convince her that the coyotes struck again.  A neighbor of hers, new to the area, just lost a small daschund.  I had not planned for Ralph and Celeste to be strictly indoor cats, but I couldn't bear to lose either one of them as I did Frank.  Neither seems anxious to go outside, so I will continue to clean the litter box and hope for a long life together.  The pack of coyotes seems to have grown, and they're certainly bolder than they have been in the past.  Most of these kills have been in broad daylight.  Bessie is ten years old now and rarely leaves my side.  We go outdoors and come back in together, and she never leaves the property.  While I love to see free-range chickens in the yard, it's just as well the little girls are penned now.

Living here is not without drama and mystery.  Moments of comedy are followed by tragedy.  It is truly the wild life.