Mollie has been finding her place in the animal household, and in the
people household. She finally recognizes that, though I am weak and
and not that healthy, I still have more power than she. And since we
both defend the cat, that puts her and the chickens on equal level.
Except the chickens aren't afraid of her and more or less ignore her,
and Mr. Natural and myself. are careful about chicken-dog interactions.
Since the incident with that dog running rampant in the yard, they have afraid
to leave the yard. I know which predator killed Sweetie. That bird dog of
theirs. But it's not the dogs fault. It's theirs--they let the dog loose--no leash--
knowing our chickens were in the yard. And we went to do battle for them.
And the chickens saw the whole thing. They trust us to watch over them. And
we do. Meanwhile there is no barking from their yard. They have crated their
dogs--they are no longer in their dog pens. Sound a bit guilty to you? Yes,
me too. And not a single apology--which should have come after the first
chicken, Big Red, died. She said, the woman who hates chicken but had
not a problem taking our eggs, that she heard us calling Big Red. I told
her that we called to make ourselves feel better, but Big Red was deaf, so
couldn't even try to defend herself. She looked surprised and guilty when
I said that. The chickens knew--they huddled close together all night and
didn't forage except in the yard the next day. Madellyn took off in a fit of
anger up the hill towards their house--and was never seen again. After
that incident, I started going after them when they went in that direction
causing the fall in which I injured my neck and back. When Sweetie
disappeared in the same direction, I did walk up the hill once--it was
not the brightest thing I've ever done. But I did it anyway. When I heard
the dogs barking and growling, I knew even if I tried to walk the hill
a second time, that she was already dead, and I couldn't bear to see her.
Both Mr. Natural and myself regret that decision. But bodywise, I just
couln't climb that hill a second time. They know we know now. That is
why they're locking their dogs in cages. Poor dogs--why have dogs if you're
not going to walk them , train them. I think they would all be better off
with different owners. And I never saw them interacting with their dogs.
They "rescued" some of the dogs. From what? Better owners?
Mollie is lucky. Both of us work consistently with her every day. She
has Puppy Chow and water available 24/7. She has glucosamine/chrondroitin
chews every day. Puppy Vitamins for her size--and 4 different kinds of treats
for good behavior. She has the command Sit down pat. I am working on
Stay and Come now. Mr Natural does the walking and plans to start
working on Heel soon. She is brushed and cleaned with wipes (eco-
friendly ones) every morning. Mr Natural helped me this morning and I was
able to clean her ears. And they needed it!
The chickens got yogurt tonight--only I saved some of it for Mollie--she loves
it. It's very beneficial in restoring harmony to their guts in replacing enzymes
necessary for balancing the bacteria in their guts.
The chickens have a preference for the type of paper used in their "nest" (sink).
The nice off white paper used in packing boxes--well, they don't like it all, and
if we don't switch to newsprint, not only will they not get in the sink to lay, but
they stand around the sink and make so much noise, Blondie being the loudest,
until we come and rectify the situation--by giving them what they want.
Now for the tree. And this is funny--I bought this tree because the leaves turn
golden in the fall, and it dates back to prehistoric times. Never thought that
the tree could have something that caused its survival, besides being a well
known source for the herb ginko. Mr. Natural wasn't pleased. At all. Then
he looked up the tree and read to me--the tree dropped something all year.
Something fragrant. The smell was described as a cross between vomit and
dog poop. OK--I goofed, really goofed. No more of buying prehistoric
trees.
All for tonight--
Kate Thorn
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