Updates

The mama duck is down to two ducklings. Well, last night she had two. They are too big to get under her now so they are being picked off by the rats. There may not be any left this morning. If I can get my hands on them I'll take them and try to keep them alive until they get big enough to be on their own.

My little hens are gone as well as about half the banties that managed to survive the last chicken massacre. They disappeared the weekend of the fair while I was gone. I understand that everything has to eat, even foxes. But I'm getting goddamned tired of hosting a fucking wild predator buffet. I'm being haunted by thoughts of tiny baby chicks and ducklings dying horribly painful deaths. Over 60 chicks and 35 ducklings have lost their little lives this summer. Yep, it's getting to me. If this fucking jungle isn't cleaned up soon, I'm going to do something drastic. I should probably go ahead and start a bail fund - just in case.

After weeks of telling hubby that Sunday is getting out of the poorly constructed fencing and sleeping in the yard, he came close to her with his truck as he left for work yesterday morning. He said she hollered at him and made him jump out of his skin. Let's not even attempt to elaborate on what will happen if my muley girl is injured. Let's just say it won't be pretty. Note to self... start secondary bail fund - just in case. If Sunday were to die before me, just shoot me and throw me in the hole with her.

My best muley girl is waiting for me to open the gate and let her back into the pasture for her breakfast. For some reason, I really need my morning muley hug today and Sunday gives the best hugs ever.