Let me Shoot It

Alan said of the grey fox tooling around the lawn in broad day light. "It's after your guinea hens."

"No", said I, "it won't bother them."

"You'll be sorry," said he, in disgust, as the fox bounced away into the bushes. "It's going to get them."

That was yesterday afternoon.

And this morning you can easily see what soft-heartedness gets you out here in the real world. The whole barnyard is paved with speckled and spangled grey and purple feathers and the only guinea left is the big purple male.

Of course they had to start sleeping in the heifer barn instead of the coop where the door can be shut at night. They are the dumbest things....

There is no tenderness in nature...lesson...learn it if you want to live close to it.....Okay, I guess I've got it now.

Meanwhile the remaining male has been alarm calling since o-dark-thirty . At least I discovered that Nick will work birds when needed. (Gael used to be my go-to bird herding dog, soft enough to never alarm them (too soft for much real work) yet steady and good at getting it done.)

Nick has never been worked on birds because he has eaten a chicken or two in the past (they committed suicide by dog, by flying into his kennel), but this morning I simply couldn't stand all the screaming. I didn't want the guinea rooster to wake the boss up as he is plumb tired out, so I took Nick out to drive the darned bird to the barn and shut him up. He took commands he has never been taught slick as a cat burglar..."walk up, lie down, walk up" (he does know "lie down") and "that'll do" when the job was done. It was sweet to work a good dog again, really sweet.

I shut the cat up so he could come in and have a big bowl of kibble with a tablespoon of bacon grease....good boy! Guess I will put the purple male back in the coop and maybe give him away unless the female that seemed to be hiding a nest in the shrubbery actually is.