Thursday, November 16, 2006

There might not be any crying in farming, but by God, there sure is cussing...

I should have gone out to the barn yesterday when it was still light, but I got a new cell phone, and I was playing around with it. So I didn't get out there until after supper to feed. Mistake. BIG mistake.

I walked into the barn and smelled a horrible smell. Now, my biggest fear has been that I will encounter a skunk either in the barn, or cross paths with one outside. So far I've been fine, but last night I thought my luck had ended. Come to find out it was yet ANOTHER possum, but this one had been "skunked"! He stank to high heavens. He was in a horse stall, but very close to the exit that the cats have fashioned for themselves. So I grabbed a pitchfork and tried to encourage him to leave. No luck. He was angry, biting at the pitchfork and growling.

One thing that is interesting to note is that our animals have "keyhole feeders" which are feeders fashioned so that they can stick their heads outside of the stalls to eat. That keeps the feeders (and water buckets) free of food and poop so that they are less apt to catch worms or other disease. Goats will also (smart as they are) not drink from a bucket that they have soiled. So when I walk into the barn, they all have their heads stuck through the feeders, looking at me.

So last night I am shouting at the possum, wielding my pitchfork like a wildwoman, and suddenly I look and see that everyone, all six of them, have stopped their chorus of baas, and are looking at me intently. Dead silence, just observing the food lady take charge. It was quite amusing, given the amount of bellering that usually occurs. I don't know if they were glad I was getting the possum out, watching me supportively; wondering what the hell I was doing; or scared to death of my carrying on. But it was funny.

So I cornered it, and put a trap near it with some cat food. It was scared, and not going anywhere. In the meantime, I started feeding. I have taken Wolfgang out of Cindi's stall, as it has been a month and we are hoping she is bred. So Ernie is back in with her and Joe Llama. I have had to hold a separate bucket of feed for Joe because Ernie steals his food. Well, last night I held the bucket for him, but Ernie got too close. Joe spit the contents of his mouth straight at Ernie, but Ernie ducked! Guess who got spat at?! From about 18", nearly a point blank range, he spat straight at my face. Grain. Covered in llama saliva. It was in my hair, stuck to my glasses, down my jacket, all over me.

Having finished feeding, and worse for the wear, I went back to dispatching the possum. It was still huddled in this corner, behind a door. I opened the door, to create somewhat of a triangle (hard to explain, but just go with me here), and left the only opening to be directly into the trap. I couldn't get to him, then, as he was behind the door. So I jabbed him with the pitchfork from under the door. He ran out, and directly into the trap. Success!

But then I had this stinking possum to get rid of. I really wanted to just let him out away from the barn, but I knew I would be dealing with his sinky self again if I did that, so I put him in the back of my car and took him to the same place we've taken the others. My car stank to high heavens, and I am hoping that after removing the animal, the trap, and the paper I put under the trap, that my car will smell better this morning.

I have a professional development class today, and I really don't want to come sauntering in smelling like a goat bathed in llama saliva, with skunk overtones.

Off to the barn to see what surprises are in store for me today...

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That's a crazy farm story!! Why is Ernie so mean?

Michael said...

I can picture that. Funny.

Take Care
Michael