Sing For Your Supper

Last night we had a nearly-full moon, and the sky was unusually clear. What this tends to mean here in Boggy Hollow is - Predator Fest.

Luckily, the coyotes seem to have taken the night off, so we all slept mostly soundly. Having a pair of livestock guardian dogs in the house at night makes for a rough one when the coyotes are on the prowl. Our fellas pace and whine, and will occasionally growl or bark if they feel like the 'yotes are getting too close.

Instead of yips and howls, the night sounds were the hoots and calls of owls... and some other, less enjoyable, noises. But I'll get to that.

We have several Barred owls who visit/live in our cedar trees, just a few feet from our bedroom window. So hearing Who cooks? Who cooks? Who cooks for you? as we're falling asleep is a fairly regular occurrence. Last night though, another owl joined the chorus. I think it was a Great Horned owl. It's call was so much deeper and softer than the Barred. It was lovely to fall asleep to. With one, rather large exception.

A bit of prologue: The reason that the predators love a full moon is because it makes hunting so much easier. (This is the part where the not-so-nice sounds come in.) You see, we have a rabbit problem. At least we view it as a problem. It's more of an attraction to the wild things in our woods.

So, even though we were being serenaded to sleep by owl song, and even though the pups were uncharacteristically chill for a night with a near-full moon, the night did not sail along altogether undisturbed.

At about 12:30, all of the dogs suddenly perked up their heads and let out a series of soft whines. Not the usual ballyhoo for a coyote's yip, but an alert nonetheless. Bill got up to investigate. He popped his head out the front door for a listen, came back and crawled in to bed. 

Me: Well, what was it?
Bill: An owl got a bunny. The bunny is screaming.
Me: :(

Now, there is no love lost between either of us and these wild rabbits. They are a bloody plague on my garden and flower beds, and I would *love* for them to just disappear overnight. Maybe not like that though? 

Anyway - thanks (I guess?) to the assorted owls for taking care of business, and thanks, especially, for the lovely songs. Tonight is the full moon, so we may be experiencing round two this evening. 

A Barred owl seen on a walk near our farm. Photo credit: Billy Jackson 2020

The Fearsome Protectors of the Hollow

At this time of year, Rexy, our Great Pyrenees, likes to spend his nights in the yard rather than in the house. Occasionally he can be lured in with the promise of a treat, but for the most part, he likes to stay at his post and bark at mystery critters who dare venture on or near his territory.

Aside from the barking, which, believe it or not, you eventually learn to tune out 90% of the time, his nighttime patrols have been nothing but good for our plants and critters, protecting them from coyotes, raccoons, possums, deer (the plants), etc. And, just like a baby's cry, you can tell the broadcast woe to ye who trespasses in MY yard bark from the rapid, snarly, I've got a predator cornered and I could use some backup bark. Last night featured the "got him!" bark, and so Bill went to investigate.

Imagine, if you will, a giant white dog snarling and doing a very fine Cujo impression, while looking straight up in the air. You need to look, but you're pretty nervous about what could be up there too... because it's mostly big things like wildcats and bears that scale telephone poles.

Bill shined his headlamp beam in the direction if Rex's frantic barking and saw... a ginormous grey owl sitting up on the power lines.

Yes indeedy, our Livestock Guardian is 24/7 and dead serious about his job. Luckily, all of our fowl were put up for the night (except the turkeys, who refuse to roost in the coop) and everybody was present and accounted for as of this morning.

Just when I think I can't love my pooch anymore, he kicks butt in a brand new way and I'm in awe of him all over again.

Not to be outdone, Penny also earned her farmdog-in-training stripes this morning at breakfast.

Just as I was walking onto the dining room, I see her playfully batting at something, then pick it up in her mouth and fling it, then chase it down and bat it some more. Figuring that it was something she shouldn't be eating, as per usual, I move to take it away from her just as she looks ready to chow down on a mammoth Wolf Spider. EEK!

Between Scarlet and I, we managed to distract her from her kill long enough to gingerly scoop it up with a paper towel and dispose of it, meanwhile lavishing the intrepid huntress with praise and offering her a biscuit in place of her venom-y snack. 

These two, I tell ya... Rescued pets rock!

The mighty beasts themselves.

Alien Angry Girl vs. Predator

Y'all know my Rexy-boy, right?

First week home, January 2012

Rex is a Great Pyrenees/Pyr mix of some sort. His pink nose is the big giveaway that he's probably not a pure Pyr, but his personality and instincts are ALL PYR, for better or for worse. As you probably know, if you've read this blog much, Great Pyrenees are a breed of Livestock Guardian Dogs, or LGDs. LGD's are 99% instinct, having been bred for a thousand years for single purpose - to protect their charges. Noble though they are, this take-charge attitude also has a downside - intense pigheadedness. LGD's are notorious for disrespecting personal space and property lines, answering instead to their highly tuned senses and instincts about where their dominion begins and ends, and who/what poses a potential threat to their humans and critters.

Knowing this full well, we shored up our fencing before we even adopted Rex. Much like a toddler will gleefully hone in on the one thing that you missed in an otherwise airtight, baby-proofed room, Rex let us know pretty quickly that anything short of chain-link and barbed wire would not deter him from exploring the whole of North Olympia at his leisure. So we patched, and re-fenced and fortified until, at last, it seemed like we'd tightened up our borders sufficiently.

Every once in a while, the lines were still breached. Usually, a careless kid or a half-frozen gate latch was to blame, but lately, Rex was escaping like clockwork from parts unknown. We wouldn't realize that he'd even gotten out until he pranced his fluffy butt right past the front window, proud as could be, right down the middle of the road.

And of course, he does not come to his name once he has tasted sweet, sweet freedom. Instead, he looks at you over his shoulder, does a playful bounce, then takes the hell off, like it's a game. It is infuriating.

So after he'd demolished and weaseled out of the fence about a dozen times this week, we felt that we were out of options, and had to install a run. Today was his first day on the chain gang, and he was none too thrilled about it.

Who would think to take advantage of the fact that our guardian was tethered and effectively useless? Why Mr. Coyote, of course! 

At a quarter after twelve this afternoon, just as I was getting ready to go and get my hair cut, I heard an almighty ruckus erupt in the chicken yard, followed by a trio of panicked hens running across the driveway. Uh-oh.

So I run to the chicken yard in time to see a young coyote hauling ass through our bog. $%@*!!!

The chickens are in the driveway, perched on top of the fence, and running around bocking like mad. I try to take a quick inventory of who's there. I'm not seeing Sir Peckins, Gracie or Cotton. After another minute of searching, I find poor Cotton, our only Cochin hen.

Cotton, in happier times.

Determined not to let the @$$hole coyote have what is left of her, I scoop up her still-warm, fluffy little body and bring her back to the driveway, where I stash her away in an unused trash bin until Bill and the girls can come home and bury her. I still can't find Gracie or Peck.

I attempted to round up the rest of the chickens, but even with the bribe of fresh bread, they won't come into the coop where I can lock them up safe. Then I think, my goats!

Kidding time is potentially close, so my does are extra fat and unwieldy, and at any given moment, there may be babies on the ground and the smells that accompany a birth that would serve as a powerful attractant to a carnivorous predator. Great.

So I fetch Rexy off of his run and onto a leash, and we slip and stumble our way through the mud, up to the goats' pasture. Nine out of nine. All present and accounted for. Whew.

I'm reluctant to go back inside while this jerk of a coyote still lurks around who knows where, but my knees are beyond trashed from the unexpected scrambling and trudging along side of and being pulled by 75 pounds of excited dog. I decide to check the chickens just one last time. As I try, once again, completely fruitlessly, to round up the chickens, from about 9 feet up in a cedar tree I hear a flutter and then see Miss Gracie descending. Oh thank you, patron saint of chickens, whoever you are.

And as I'm about to give up and head on in to ice down my knee and call my neighboring farmers with a warning about the coyote, a shrill and fervent bocking erupts from behind the coop. I check to see if the damn coyote is back, and instead I see an out-of-sorts Sir Peckins, frantically making his way back from the far end of the chicken yard. The bastard coyote only got the one hen then, and in the end, he won't really get her, as we'll bury her deep under the big alder tree.

It's slightly nuts how such a physically and emotionally exhausting half hour can run you through the entire spectrum of emotions - anger, fear, sadness, determination, relief, thankfulness - and, for all it takes from you, leaves you more certain than ever that you are in the very heartbeat of your calling. To know this property and my critters are the things that I know and that working with them gets my blood pumping with purpose gives me another level of peacefulness and determination in going into this surgery and following through with the rehab and PT that it is going to take to get me well and truly on my feet again and outside working my farm. 

Bring it on. :)

A Lucky Penny

Just when I think we can't squeak one more critter onto this little farm, I accidentally fall in love with one and we end up doing it anyway. Meet our newest baby, sweet & spunky Miss Penny -

You see what I was up against? I was dropping Livy off at her boyfriend's house, when Penny, (who along with her brother, was being fostered by Liv's fella's Mom) came to say hello, her curly tail wagging so furiously that her whole booty was moving. I picked her up to say hello and was bathed in sweet puppy kisses and, well, it was love at first smooch. We were able to adopt her just 3 weeks later, which kinda sorta felt like an eternity, waiting for your baby to come home.

Today was her third day in la casa de Jackson. It's going pretty well. We have had mixed success with the potty pads. She'll pee on them a little more than 50% of the time, but won't use them for poo at all. No, she prefers to take care of that business in the hallway.

Being that she's only about 10 or 11 weeks old, that's not really that bad, but we definitely still have some work ahead of us. I honestly never thought I'd do puppydom ever again, but it seems cupid had other ideas, and so here we are.

There have been a few minor bumps, mostly in trying to integrate Penny & Rex. A 75-pound dog and a 3-pound dog don't mix so well immediately. He's wanting to play with her, and she very rightly is slightly intimidated by the lumbering, happy-go-lucky giant. He keeps wolfing down her puppy food, which has not earned him a ton of goodwill from Penny, but they seem to be ok, if a little leery of/intimidated by one another.

Big Boy meets Bitty Baby.

We're needing to be a little extra vigilant ourselves, as we're used to frequently stepping over an enormous, bright white pooch who's pretty hard to miss. Now we have a teeny, tan (same as our carpet) fluffy shadow that follows us everywhere 24/7. I live in fear of somebody stepping on her. :-\

In spite of the minor chaos that adding Penny-pie has created, we're all already crazy in love with her. She is a world-class snuggler who emits a surprising amount of body heat for her size. I challenge anyone to sit down with a snoozy Penster and a lap quilt and try to stay awake for more than 10 minutes. It cannot be done!

Between Penny's sweet and spunky personality, and Rexy's protective lovebug-thing, I feel about as lucky a pup Mama as you can get. Now - If I so much as talk about adding another pooch to the brood (besides fostering) you have my blessing to turn me in to Hoarders: Farm Nerd Edition.

This may or may not be the right time to mention that we'll shortly be in the market for some piglets...

Our Girl Goes Home

Tomorrow, Cici goes home with her forever family, a wonderful couple from British Columbia. Yep, our Great White pup is headed for the Great White North.

Bringing Celeste home, just off the transport from Texas.

We met Cici's new family yesterday, and they are amazing people. She's going to be an only dog in a home with woods to walk in, and visiting grandkids who will lavish love on her. Her new Mama sees charity work in Cici's future, as a visiting therapy dog for local hospitals. Honestly, she will have the kind of life that no one could have expected for her, based on where and how she started life. It's maybe a little bit like watching your daughter leave home to marry a wonderful man. You know that she's on promising, amazing new path, but you are still a little sad to see her break away from your fold, your emotions oscillating between pride, joy and gut-wrenching pain, each in their turn. That's my baby right there.

Cici was born on a ranch in East Texas, and along with 36 other dogs, was surrendered to a kill shelter by the ranch owner. She was rescued by a network of compassionate, tireless individuals within the SPIN (Saving Pyrs In Need) and the Great Pyrenees Rescue Society organizations. She was significantly underweight, and had had very little direct interaction with humans, and was therefore untrained and totally inexperienced with the concepts of love, trust and security. The vets who saw her upon intake at the shelter estimated that she would reach a maximum of 60 pounds, full grown. Her undersized adult weight will be a life-long reminder of the insufficient nourishment she received in her infancy.

Her previous experiences in life had taught her that food was a scarce and extremely valuable commodity, and so she would eat until she was full, but continue to guard her food bowl, even going so far as to sleep by her dish, lest Rex (or us humans) try to take her food. It was heartbreaking to see.

She was absolute sweetness personality-wise since day one, but the trust and training were much slower in coming. Pyr's are incredibly intelligent dogs, and so the bulk of Cici's "training" actually came from following Rex's example. We also used positive reinforcement ("atta girls" and bribery via treats)  to teach her very basic concepts like sit.

She's been with us for about 6 weeks, and has grown tremendously, emotionally and physically. She's gained a good 5 pounds, started growing a new, healthy winter coat, and works and plays in lock-step with Rex; barking at bicyclists, deer and the UPS man, checking in on the welfare of the chickens and goats, and competing for the prime, pre-warmed-by-Mama's-butt, spot on the couch. She feels like this is her place too now.

And it has been. She and Rex have been a great team. Joggers smile and say hi to the pair of sproingy, giant white fluff balls each time they pass. People ask us about the breed all the time now, Great Pyrenees being a fairly uncommon and heretofore relatively unknown breed in Western Washington. The resurgence of urban homesteading and hobby farming has made the Livestock Guardian Dog a relevant consideration for families and individuals who want to raise their own food and food animals in cities and towns where raccoons, rats and coyotes, among others, have adapted to our urban sprawl and set up shop quite efficiently, gobbling up backyard chickens and bunnies like drive-thru hamburgers. These pups earn their keep, keeping the predators at bay, while respecting your livestock and totally running away with your heart. To me, they are dream dogs, the perfect breed.

So I guess I'm a sort of Pyr evangelist. Which is one of the things that I must remind myself of every time I think about Cici moving on. She might be the first Pyr that a lot of folks meet, in her neck of the Canadian woods. Her finding her forever home means that we will have room in our home for another dog who might otherwise be euthanized due to shelter overcrowding. This is the best possible outcome for everyone involved, especially for Cici. That doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.

Safe travels, Cici-beans. You've made your Mama so proud. 

My pair o'Pyrs. Who says dogs can't smile? :)

Puppy Love

Our sleeping beauty, sweet Celeste

Growing up, we had quite the assortment of dogs come into our lives through the years. Our family opened our home and hearts to everything from a Bull Mastiff (a lumbering, gentle, ox named Red), a goofy, deceptively fierce-looking Doberman (Rip), a sassy, self-possessed Lhasa Apso (Yoohoo), a Terrier/Shi-tzu mix (Mikey) to a very unprissy toy Poodle, Gee-Gee. All were rescued.

So I grew up with no leanings toward a particular breed or type of dog. I also didn't grow up with the notion that many people seem to have, wherein "getting a dog" means that you get a brand new, unnamed, history-free puppy. All of our dogs came with names, quirks and histories, for better or worse.

So it wasn't really a surprise that last year, when we decided that our farm & family were ready to add a dog to our ever-expanding brood, that we immediately looked into adopting. I did my due diligence in researching dog breeds that were a good fit for life on a farm - protective yet gentle. My research lead me to a class of dogs that, up until that point, I'd never heard of, Livestock Guardian Dogs, (LGD's). 

The general disposition of an LGD hit exactly the right notes in terms of what sort of dog we were seeking, a defender or critters and kids alike, sweet-tempered and smart. How I landed on the Great Pyrenees specifically, I don't remember, but boy am I glad I did. :)

In addition to adopting our boy, Rex, (a Great Pyrenees mix) last December, this past weekend we took in our first foster dog, Celeste, also a Great Pyrenees. She and Rexy fell in like peas and carrots! She didn't have much in the way of attention or socialization in her previous life, but she is all sweetness, and as Pyrs are known to do, is learning a lot from Rex's example. It has been impossible not to fall in love with this little girl.

That being said, we do not have any plans to adopt Celeste ourselves. We'll miss her terribly when she finally moves on to her forever home, but, for now, we've decided that keeping our home open to fostering one (or eventually, multiple) pups in need is a higher priority than adopting a dog outright. Rex is a very accommodating boy, and a really good Alpha for our fosters to learn from, but he has first claim on our time and resources, and we don't want to overwhelm him or take any time or attention away from him. So far, it hasn't been an issue - he's loved having a playmate again! - but we're vigilant about making sure that he remains secure in his place as the big cheese around here. 

These past couple days have really affirmed that fostering is for us. Celeste has given us, especially Rex, so much companionship and love already. Being able to share our lives with these amazing critters is one of the greatest gifts of this farm life we've embarked upon.

If you're interested in learning more about LGDs, Great Pyrenees dogs or pet foster and adoption in general, I've included a few links that might help sell you on the idea, but be warned - once you open your heart to a pet in need, you kinda-sorta become addicted to being surrounded by fluffy little lovebugs all day.

Consider opening your home to a rescued pet. Be each other's miracle. :)

Great Pyrenees Rescue Society

Saving Pyrs In Need

Petfinder

General foster dog FAQ's (courtesy of the Seattle Animal Shelter)