Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Short Straw

It might be my imagination, but it seems to me there are more turkeys congregating in the yard these days.  Could it be because Thanksgiving is just around the corner?  This crowd was waiting for the Breakfast Lady and more were waiting in the wings (check out the ones on the railing of the chicken pen fence).

Because most are seen here as pedestrians around here, it's easy to forget that turkeys are powerful fliers.  I'd been watching the big birds cruising through the goat pen while milking.  Finished with chores and closing the last door yesterday, I heard the yeeping call turkeys have when conversing quietly amongst themselves, but could not determine the direction until I looked up.  Hard to see even in the dead branches, one was roosting about two-thirds up on the far right hand and one, not in the photo, was well to the left.  This tree is usually occupied by the high-flying vulture colony, but they've moved over to the oak by the driveway for some reason.

It is my opinion that the goats draw straws to see who is going to be my morning tormentor.  I'm not sure, however, if the girl who gets the short straw is the loser or the winner.  "Let me!  Let me 'get her goat' this morning!"  I've thwarted Sheila and Inga by changing their rooms and switching the routine.  If Cindy and Esther get balky, it's no skin off my nose because they aren't milkers.  If they won't come in for grain, they won't starve; there's alfalfa and plenty of graze on the ground.  It's Tessie who has taken up the torch.  "Tessie, it's your turn and your breakfast is ready," I coo.  "Come on, Tessie.  I haven't got all day," getting a bit brusk.  "Tessie, dammit!  Get your butt in here!"  And Tessie stands and stares.  "What?  You talkin' to me?"  Her bag is full every morning and I can't let her go a day without milking and so, with great reluctance, I go after her.  Maybe the goats took a vote and decided I need more aerobic exercise.  I approach slowly.  She turns and walks away.  Getting close, I move a little faster.  She goes a little faster too, staying one step out of reach.  Over to the fence, up the hill, around the water trough, down the hill.  I think she waits until she hears me huffing and puffing and only then allows me to grab her collar.  I swear she's smiling.  Once caught, she is completely docile and heads right for the barn.  Tell me she doesn't know what she's doing.  I have no spare room to put her in and no way to isolate her as I have the other renegades.  Come the rainy days that are predicted for the rest of this week, the fun and games will stop.  I'll get the last laugh because I can make Tessie wait outside until I'm darned good and ready to let her come in.  In the meantime....

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

At least you can find humor - or at least let US find the humor - in your goats and straws stories. Hope Tessie has been a good girl lately!!