(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({ google_ad_client: "ca-pub-1163816206856645", enable_page_level_ads: true }); Northview Diary: Way Back

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Way Back


The boy and I stayed home today while everyone else went to Empire Farm Days. Someone needs to keep an eye on things around here and I don't really mind. It's a long drive and too much walking up there anyhow.

Darned chickens have taken up scratching and scrabbling among my zinnias and tomatoes, blast 'em. Thus when I went out to the garden the other day, highly trained, but somewhat lazy, border collie at heel, I decided to use the chicken removal tools available to me. So to speak.

"Gael, walk up," I told her. She looked at me like I had
surely lost whatever grey matter I might have left. She knows darned well that dogs are scolded for chasing chickens around here. Traipsing through the zinnias is frowned upon as well.
"Walk up," I repeated .

With a sigh of resignation and much looking over her fat little black shoulder, she complied, albeit grudgingly. She got the job done too. It was amazing to watch a dog, who works 3/4 ton cows as a matter of routine, finesse those pesky birds. With barely a twitch to one side or the other, she pushed them through the weeds under the old apple tree and out away from the buildings. She was sure slick. With a final, "That'll do," and a smug grin I headed back to the house, zinnias satisfactorily chickenless. The whole affair was painfree and a nice excuse to work a dog.

Of course today they were back. Chickens may be birdbrains, but they don't give up easily. I am pretty clever though so this time I sent both gentle little Gael and tough guy, Mike, on zinnia patrol. It's a good thing that the dogs all have real good recall and know what, "Leave it," means, especially when it is screamed real loud over the squawking of a frantic rooster. Chickens seem to resent being picked up in the mouth of a big hairy dog and CARRIED out of the garden. I just don't understand it. It seems like a very effective means of moving them and saves wear and tear on their hot little feet. However, guess Mike will have to stick to cows and leave chicken duty to his baby sister. Chickens just look better with their feathers left on.

1 comment:

Deanna said...

That cracks me up. I like Mike already.

I am working my way through your archives. I may be coming to live with you if you don't stop writing so lovingly of your farm...