Dear Universe: Why oh why did you make biting flies?

I have never, ever had to deal with biting flies and other insects like what we are faced with here in Maine. I spend a lot of time stringing together expletives when I'm working in the barns. The horse and Old Matilda have been effected the worst.

Last year, Matilda had trouble with the biting flies on her legs. I did my best with sprays, rub ons and such, but eventually had a vet out and we shaved her and gave her antibiotics since she had a slight infection. So this year, in my usual optimistic fashion, I set out to conquer Nature.

I did pretty well until this month. I invested in monthly fly predators-they come each month in the post and I sprinkle them on the major poop piles, and the fly eggs get eaten. I also bought lots of those stinky fly traps that are so gross-they smell like dead animals and attract the flies-and they were full up most of the summer. Next summer I'm trippling the number of those. But then this month arrived and the last hatch of biting flies has just been insane.

I had been keeping up on Matilda's legs-she is the only one of the equines who has issues, I blame it on the fact she is elderly, and she also came out of winter a bit thin which probably made her more of a target, and she is white haired which attracts flies more. While we have gotten her weight up to a good level, this past week I was losing the battle with the flies. I had been scraping off the crud, which is what the vet did last year, and wrapping her legs, and giving her a tablet the vet gave me last year. But it just wasn't helping. The good thing is there was no infection.

So I had my new vet out and we shaved her legs again, and put on these wild and crazy wrappings that are soaked in something, and we have given her a super shot they swear by, versus the pills which take longer to act. She was a real trooper when we worked on her, and Im sure it actually feels good when we get all that crud off.

She is looking pretty styling', I thought.

Next year, we'll be getting an industrial fan which the equines can stand in front of and flies can't fly in wind. I also had to invest in something from the vet to make Boone dopey when the farrier comes. He has never been a bad boy with the farrier but he ABHORS the biting flies, and I can't blame him. My farrier has been so patient, but I want him to be safe, as Boone tries to kick at the flies on his belly.

The vet did tell me the predators help alot too as time goes on, so to keep doing it, and I will. But, between you and me and all the ##+!!###hrumpf flies, I'm ready for them all to be...dead. Little terrorists is what they are.

The vet call was $550. Can you hear the barnyard going wild?

If you are able to make donations, it would be great, and helpful. I have been wanting to have this clinic out but because they are far away, the trip charge alone is $100 so I kept putting it off. But they are really good and I liked this vet a lot. I had her do an overview of our animals which made the bill high, but I need to have a good clinic on board as we go forward. I was spoiled in Oregon with my three vet clinics I worked with. But I was really happy to find a vet too that I connected with and I liked her a lot. Now we have them, and the new cat/dog vet I tried this month too is a keeper.

Caring for the old donkey

Old Matilda waiting to be trimmed

For the first time since I began caring for Matilda and the other donks, we have white line. You'd think that would have happened first in rainy Oregon, but it has happened here in Maine and my farrier said he is seeing a lot of it this year. I have a new farrier and I finally found one that really knows how to trim donkeys and I'm so happy I found him. It took me awhile to find the right one out West and I did after three tries, and now it has happened here in Maine.

The donkeys just weren't getting trimmed properly by the last two farriers, I knew there was too much toe being left and they looked unbalanced, and this also aggravated the situation, leaving all of them with white line. I'm really irritated, BUT, that is water under the bridge and just am grateful I finally have a good farrier.

So, instead of being trimmed two or three times a year like before [this was appropriate in Oregon where it was drier and they had more rocky land to run around on], I will probably have them trimmed each time he comes and does Boone, which is every seven weeks. It's $45 a donkey, so this adds up, but it is what is needed and I'm grateful we caught it now.

And I loved it when the farrier said, "I have to tell you-these are the best behaved donkeys I've ever worked on."

I promise my blog won't become one big donation plea for the 501[c][3]–I plan to continue sharing stories, mysteries, animal conversations, art and photos....and have some other things percolating for your entertainment [and mine]. But one immediate need is to build up the 501[c][3] fund, so I can pay for related items out of that account. I have found a great accountant and now have a clear understanding what I can and can't do.

My goal is to get a big buffer of bucks in that 501[c][3] account-like $5-10,000- that will cover hay, feed, vet care, medicines, special feeds, cat cottage food and heat, utilities, fencing work and new paddocks...and more. We also want to build a new small barn that will hopefully attach to the barn we built last year to allow for more animal room and better hay storage.

Visit the donation page to learn more and/or donate.

Her royal princess pig sleeps like a queen

A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Jul 3, 2017 at 2:30pm PDT

I came to the outer barn for chores only to hear the usual snoring of Rosie. But it was coming from an odd position. I looked down to see her nose at the bottom of the barn siding, snorting away.

Rosie takes her sleep seriously and since she is nine, an advanced age in pigdom, she is entitled to sleep as much as she likes.

I have been spraying the bathing beauty in her newly acquired sunscreen-thanks to readers and followers for sending me some. And they were good enough to send exactly the kind Rosie, and I, prefer-the spray on kind. Miss Pig does much better with a quick spray. In the old days I used to spend enormous amounts of energy mixing Destin with oil to rub it on her most sensitive areas. Maybe the humidity here in Maine versus the constant arid dryness of Oregon summers is helping her skin. I think it is. I also noted she did not bolt all her hair like she used to and I'm not sure why.

Anyway, as Rosie ages, I cherish each morning I hear her snores. Nine is getting  up there for a potbellied and I know she won't last forever. For all her drama, she is one amazing pig and has led quite the life having once lived in her own bedroom in a house, to a barn with a crippled goat, to a farm full of Misfits and then traveling five days to get to Maine-where she now seems happier than ever.

Long live Th-World's-Grumpiest-But-I'm-Fine-As-I-Am- Pig...a hell of a porcine.

{Did you hear the big news? Apifera is becoming a 501c!}

Send Anna the elder a birthday wish

In honor of Anna's birthday, consider a pledge to the Misfit fund

I have a list of Misfit birthdays on my desk. Some of the animals come with a clear history of birth, others don't. But Anna lived in a loving home, by all appearances and medical records, but had to be sent to the animal shelter here in Maine due to an illness. I know she was cared for. So I was upset with myself when I saw I had missed her April 20th birthday in which she turned ten. She still is a young elder and I hope we have her with us for many years to come.

Anna and the other two adopted cats-Yume and Tigger- are all doing well out in the barn room they currently occupy. Actually, they have it great-heat in the winter [it has a heater in it from the former owner], art on the wall, window seats to look out at forest and birds, cat perches and me coming and going. And let's not forget they got to cohabitant with a baby pig this winter-how many cats can say that.

Anna is the greeter of the group, the leg encircler, the high priestess who made Yume understand the hierarchy. She and Yume now sniff noses, no hissing and Anna is tolerant of me spending time with the others now. Anna likes the chairs and is helping me make the Raggedy Cat Chair-which I failed to photograph with her on it-next time. In time, once we get the upper loft properly windowed, the cats can roam up there too. Although I think they are pretty content in the cat room. I had plans for the cat room that are now evolving-due to the reality of farm life and space. Since it is a heated room, I am going to treat it like a stall/sick room/emergency room for the animals. Since we went ahead and are making the upper loft accessible to people, I will use that area for showing my art and workshops, and healing cat visits.

I was appalled to find one of Anna's toenails had grown into her pad. I must have missed this. I was able to snip it while she was standing on the window perch, perfect sight level for me, and light too-I snipped quickly and then had to pull it out. I was able to treat it and all seems well. I clipped her other toes too. I've never in my life had to trim cat toenails, but these cats were all house bound, life was easy, and even though they have a scratching beam, I rarely see them use it. I can understand why Anna didn't, that toenail in her pad must of really hurt. I am now on the lookout and was able to trim Yume, with patience over a few days, too. Tigger-he will be impossible without some kind of equipment to keep him from clawing me. I have a good catalog with items like this and will get something.

One of the reasons I take my relationships seriously and to heart with these adoptees, is because I know what it feels like to have had an animal I cared for and loved, not be able to be with me anymore for whatever reasons. If I became ill or unable to care for my animals, knowing there might be someone that truly gave companionship and consistent communion with my animals would help me.I don't know the people that gave these animals up, but I know they were all cared for, and that circumstances just got in the way, and they had to make hard decisions, and do what they thought was right for the animal.

I've learned in the past 14 years helping animals-it is not always a case of some 'horrible person' at the other end of an animal in a shelter or rescue situation. Too often on social media I see people bashing human beings in animal cases when they don't even have the facts. I don't tolerate it. We are all creatures that sometimes end up in difficult situations, or make poor decisions that cause a spiraling downward.

If you'd like to honor Anna with a small donation to the 2017 Misfit Fundraiser, we send Meows. The fund is helping offset the basic feed cost of the Misfits, as well as help pay for a small quarantine stall so I  can help more animals in need. Read all about it at the funding page.

Soap opera flip flop moving day

Overheard in the barnyard:

"We are moving next door", said Earnest.

"Why?" asked little Opie.

"I hear it has a view of the ocean over there," said Moose.

"Doubtful", said Wilbur.

"I'm going to go the ocean some day," said Earnest. "I have a plan."

{now back to business}

This weekend, we were busy with all the things that must get done before summer hits.

For me, that meant delicing and shots for all Misfits, applying the first fly/tick spray and rearranging the sleeping areas to get ready for Eleanor's pending May farrowing. I also had to get Little Lonley and Cornelia out of the cat room where they have been snug as bugs to help Little get through the chilly part of his life. But with the first warm days, ammonia wafts were setting off the fire alarms! Despite the twice a day cleaning of bedding, the warm air made the ammonia potent, since that room is insulated, and the floor is painted so runoff is problematic.

The cats were unimpressed.

While this might seem like not a big deal, it meant taking Earnest-Sir Tripod Goat-Wilbur-Moose-Goose-Opie_Rosie the goat and Marcella and putting them in the stall next to them, which meant moving the two barrows and pregnant Eleanor out to another paddock and then relocating them in the newly vacated stall. These things often go off without hitch–which it did, I was pleased.

Little is getting big, but he is still a charming little bloke. He is old enough now that his mom bashes him away if she feels he is getting too much of her breakfast-that's pig talk for,

Hey, that's mine, back off.

So, that is step one for spring management. Today I am giving sheep shots and foot trims and entertaining the tractor maintenance man while he gives our tractor it's free inspection. We are starting to plan the garden, and while plants are in full upright since as they would be in Oregon, it does me good to see things growing again...including grass, which to me always translates to 'food for the animals."

{Thank you to those who have donated to the 2017 Fund, which is also helping raise money so I can build an intake quarantine area so I can help animals in need that come the way of the state vet and animal control.]

Sir Tripod Goat our hero

A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Apr 11, 2017 at 7:59am PDT

If you appreciate the work I do here and have been doing for over ten years with special needs farm animals, please consider a small donation [with reward levels if you desire]. It is much needed and appreciated.

Sir Tripod Goat was born with a crippling condition to his rear hip so has never been able to straighten his hind leg, or put it on the ground. He has horrible feet because of it, and since he doesn't walk much his toes tend to grown poorly. He has always been one to hang out away from the crowd, and even prefers his own company-but I think that is mainly due to the fact he can't easily defend himself or stay upright if someone knocks him, as goats do in play and posturing.

Tripod is never one to make a fuss, or complain. Even with what is probably sometimes painful condition depending also on the weather, he always is calm, and dignified. To forge on as he does, I can call him a little hero, knowing how hard it is to do simple things when one is not up to par that day. More and more, his knee pads are cracking, and I take great care to watch them and step in at any signs of infection. One of my old vets in Oregon said, once their pads start cracking all the time, it can become the beginning of the end. But. we are far from that, he is still relatively young, and strong in all other regards. His condition will play a role in his senior years though. Then again, look what Old Victor went though, or Stevie-nobody ever thought they'd last that long.

Over the last few years, I've tried different living arrangements for him. In Oregon, I ended up putting him in the hay barn, where he spent his days on maypoles, alone, with Scooby going him at night. It helps him sit comfortably to have a mound of something do go down on, and helps him get upright more easily. Once here in Maine, I put him with the once younger piglets who left him alone but as they grew, as pigs are known to do, the pigs push with their heads to get you out of the way of their feed, so it became more difficult for him. At that time, Scooby Keith was still with us [sigh] and the two of them became bed mates in the interior barn. When Opie and Rosie came along, they all seemed pretty well suited for each other.

I am always happy to see him get up and go outside. He doesn't last long, since he has to watch out for the youngsters pushing him from food. I put him and Opie and Rosie in a separate area at night, for his own peace of mind. I hope to build a small shed in the apple area so he and his buddies can hang there most of the summer and fall.

Tripod has opened up a lot emotionally too. Imagine, if you got sent to live at different places, and even if you were treated okay, you might think,

Why get involved, I'll only be leaving again.

I have moments with him, and even did in Oregon, where I sit with him and I can tell he recognizes me as a leader, and a consistent source of help. It gives him confidence to share affection and communion with me and even some of the other animals.

It's the best I can do for him-shelter, safety, food and water, and a consistent presence so he knows,

It will be okay, she will always come out and help me.

The-World's-Grumpiest-But-I-Am-Fine-As-I-Am-Pig about to turn another year grumpier

Tomorrow is Rosie's ninth birthday. If you had told me way back when I first brought Rosie home that a] she'd live this long, and b] I was going to drive her across the country from Oregon to Maine at some point, well, I might have pig snorted.

As one of my former vets said,

"She is lucky she came to you, I'm not sure anyone else would have handled her all these years."

It is true, she is grumpy. She is not like my other pigs who enjoy belly rubs, sun naps on my lap, or a certain amount of polite conversation after breakfast. When Rosie first arrived, she walked the barnyard more, but always with a grumpy cloud above her. It was never a problem, because she stayed out of the way, and preferred to be with Stevie the Kissing Goat, or by herself in a hay bed of her liking. Her care became more of a challenge when her first foot trim was due. I tried everything to get that pig to cooperate. I even gave her beer, an old farm trick-she refused it. I took a day to get one toe done, but it was better than nothing. The next time, I had my vet come out and it took three of us, with a pig snare, to the tune of $175. For the record, I am not one to pay $175 to have a pig's toes done, and I was slightly taken aback by the cost, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Each summer, I lathered her in sunscreen and oils to protect her skin from burning and to help her chronic skin condition. As she aged, and spent more time inside, it became less necessary, but she still needs her ears treated.

In time, Rosie became more of a recluse, and seemed to prefer that. One day I found her in the rain, shivering, far from her normal stall. I somehow got her into Old Barn, and she never left. I tried every spring to push her out into sun, but she liked her private area, away from Eleanor and Marcella and Earnest. I'm sure the other pigs shoved her around and she just isn't a fighter of other animals. She tolerated chickens, and me-on certain days.

It came time for us to move to Maine. I had many discussion with my vets. I was unsure if it was the right thing to move her. But it was not an option to rehome her, never. Nobody would have tolerated her. I just have a gene in me that allows me to be a punching bag for certain things-like grumpy pigs. On the day all the animals were micro chipped, we saved her for last. Somehow, we got it done, with a lot of grumpy words flung our way.

Any vet who has ever had to help me with Rosie, always remembers her,

"Do you still have that grumpy pig?"

Yep, I do. And she is turning nine. Which for her is getting old. For breeding pigs that would be ancient, for her, a spayed, pampered lass, it's like being 75, I guess.

The thing is, Rosie and I have had our ups and downs like any friendship. There were times in Oregon where I really was getting fed up. I worked so hard to make adjustments for her, and she was just plain...difficult. Even though she makes a lot of noise, she has never tried to bite me, or act threatening to anyone.

She is just grumpy.

I questioned if the trip to Maine would do her in. A five day-six night journey, where she would ride, alone, in a handbill princess pig palace in the back of the truck. The minute we got her in there, she went to sleep. She seemed to actually like her new arrangement. On our journey, when we stopped at gas stations, she would awaken, and people would hear sounds coming from our truck bed, but couldn't see her in her enclosed suite.

"That's just our pig," we said matter of factly.

"Hey, they have a pig in there!" and sometimes we'd open the lid of her suite so people could see her nose sicking out of straw.

When we first arrived in May of last year, Rosie continued to live in the truck bed in her private wooden hut, and for about two weeks wherever we went–to the hardware store, or out to lunch–people would be curious what they heard in that truck bed.

"Oh that's just our pig," we said without concern.

Eventually, she was moved to the chicken coop, temporarily, and did fine, but the chickens began picking her scaly skin [she has a skin condition], so we finally arranged a special private suite for her once the new barn was done. She sleeps side by side with the sheep, and Benedetto, and has her own private door. It made me so happy to see her greet me, outside her stall, one morning last summer. I sensed she was happy, and that she had the right mix of space and animal communing without being bothered by them. There are days when she seems to like having her ears scratched again. And this winter, she even tolerated me laying her down to do her toenails-now, "laying her down" did not mean in a graceful, easy way, and she was louder than a raptor fighting so I could only wonder what the neighbors thought-but we got it done.

Just like Benedetto, who loves the snow and cold but is not big on rain, we wondered if our pull to Maine was to make White Dog, and a grumpy pig...find their happy place.

We used to muse,

Maybe she'll never die...

She is and continues to be that kind of presence at the farm. But so were so many others that lived long lives with us, and they died. Everything dies.

So tomorrow, it is her ninth birthday. And it is also our first sheep sheering! I hope my sheering helpers will sing along to her...hopefully she will partake for seconds in a muted grumpy fashion-but why expect that from her.

She is clearly an old crone that knows who she is and has no motive to change.

{Do you like the stories of Apifera? Consider a small donation to help offset the adopted animal care}

Song for Moose and Paco will officiate the funeral

I wanted to let you all know, tomorrow there will be a private funeral service for The Head Troll, officiated by Paco, who asked to lead the service. This is a big deal for Paco-he arrived at Apifera without any confidence, but gained it through love and experience. Paco and The Head Troll both came from new Hampshire, arrived in Oregon and I adopted them, so it is also fitting he lead the send off. I know at feedings this morning he was in a corner, working on poems. He doesn't have a special writing spot here, yet, I hope to make him one this summer. So check back tomorrow. I have been asked to write about the service, but there will be no photography allowed.

While there has been much loss of late, there is still much life, and the percolations both under the ground and in my new life here are everywhere.

Yesterday I turned 59, and Moose turned 4. I didn't too well on a lavish party for Moose, but it's pretty easy to please these guys on birthday parties if there is any kind of food involved. As you can see from the movie, chewing demonstrates content party goers. Later that night I made myself a old family recipe of white cake with chocolate frosting-a classic sturdy cake my mother used to make. We had wine and good stuff, and slept well after a hard week.

I went to a sheep farm yesterday to meet a fellow shepherd from Hatchtown Farm, but this one really knows her fiber. She is very good at sharing her knowledge on many levels and next weekend she invited me to go with her to help at another farm's annual sheering day. I'm really excited. I really want to make something of my fiber and am also thinking of getting some Coopworth, which she has, a longer fiber breed, versus our CVM's which are a fine fiber breed. I think I can handle a few more sheep but need to really focus on good management to get as most out of my girls as possible. I am a nice at wool sheep, so have so much to learn. By the way, she sells her fiber and it is gorgeous!

Anyway, so many people contacted me about The Head Troll, and my birthday and it was very kind and helpful. I am fine, The Head Troll was aware of the shifts happening in Apifera, and with me, I know this, I really do. It was very like her to...give some more room for the new life we are creating here, and it was her time.

A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Mar 10, 2017 at 1:25pm PST

Rosie freaks me out and Little Lonely hanging in there

Last night I had a scare with Rosie, the goat Rosie not to be confused with the pig Rosie  {I have not told the pig there is another Rosie, I think it will only irritate her. How could there be more than one me? she'd ask.}

Rosie had just finished dinner-I have her on a bit of grain as she is a bit thin-and she got choke. If  you've experienced watching a goat with choke it's horrible. You feel pretty helpless. I've never had one die of choke, and typically they pull out of it, but it is so scary to witness, and the first time you do you think it is all over. It happens when a goat eats to fast, which can be compounded when they eat in a group. They toss their heads in distress as they can't breathe, and they foam and shake their heads, some cry out as Rosie did - good sign really. And Rosie would jump up and around trying to expel the choke. Some people misdiagnose this when they see the froth as frothy bloat, fyi.

Some people put rocks in their dishes to slow them down-that never worked for me. So I massaged her throat, got water down her and then did drum beats on her sides. I've never had a goat take so long to work herself out of it though. Of course it was night, and it was one of the chillier nights so there I was sitting with a goat, and of course Opie was trying to help. I finally went into give her some time to relax, as all the commotion can make them even tenser. She was breathing, she just could not expel what she needed to. When I returned she was much calmer, and I knew she was going to be ok, but she still had some fits. I was so relieved she worked herself, finally, out of it. No more grain for her for awhile and I will start to mash is in water I think.

Little Lonely is hanging in there. I have shied from constantly taking pics of him, but I will this week. I think he is getting enough milk, and Cornelia's bags are fill [some anyway] so i think he's milking well. He seems strong, in fact he's downright feisty when I work with him. Bugger even gave me a bite already. Pigs get teeth fast, and they are sharp. I tried to supplement with a bottle but he just refuses, but i think because he is getting enough at the mama milk bar, right now anyway, it is okay.

I'm pretty beat. Please forgive me if these past couple of posts wreak of exhaustion. I am determined to be back in the studio tomorrow and all month focus on painting, now that my little Spoken Word memoir is done-which by the way, NOBODY has purchased. I'm crushed! It is the sweetest story. Perhaps people don't think a frisbee has any insights-this frisbee does!

Helping Rosie the pig get ready for bed

Every night I cover up Rosie for bed - she may sound mad but she immediately goes to snoring and is warm (copyright Apifera Farm)

A video posted by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Nov 11, 2016 at 12:33pm PST

I remember liking it when my mother came into my bedroom to tuck me in.

Now that the weather is chillier, I end my chores in the barn by covering Rosie up with straw. Pigs will grab straw and carry it to their nest site, and will cover themselves up with it entirely if needed. Rosie used to do this on her own. I suspect that her arthritis makes that hard for her, I'm not sure, so she is usually half covered.

I actually really like this task. Even though she sounds grumpy, the minute I'm done covering her, she starts snoring.

Being mother to The World's Grumpiest But I'm Fine As I Am Pig means letting her be her ownself, and simply enjoying her demonstrative style.

What a pig!

Conversation with the grumpy pig: is Rosie blossoming?

As some of you already know, The-World's-Grumpiest-But_I-AM-FIne-the-Way-I-Am-Pig, aka Rosie came to us many years ago when I was at that time piglets-a state to be in I will tell you.  I really wanted a pig and began a search for one to adopt. That's how I discovered Sanctuary One, and they happened to have a pig, a grumpy pig they told me...but she came with her own goat...a very crippled goat. I had many goats-old and crippled-so asked if i could just adopt the pig. "No, she has to go with that goat, it's her only friend."

The rest is Apifera history. Stevie-and are we ever glad he came to Apifera-was the only animal that would tolerate Rosie's grumpiness, and for the first year or so, Rosie slept only near Stevie. But like often happen when animals get more confidence in a new environment, Rosie began to sleep on her own, and eventually, she had her very own suite in Old Barn, which was just fine with her, it seems. I tried to get her to come outside again, but she stayed in that barn for a couple years, content with animals nearby, but not in her private bedroom chamber. But then we moved to Maine, and Rosie came with us in a private suite made of wood that Martyn made for her, which fit securely in the truck bed, away from any other animals. Upon arriving, we once again made sure Rosie had her own suite, except eventually I had to put some young chickens in with her. She was not pleased, and the suite was rather dank, so I made a new one in the new barn we built. Anything for Rosie. And Rosie seemed very happy, and her skin cleared up and in the past weeks, low and behold, she has decided to come outside again. In fact, she has come out every morning to greet me, just like she used to many, many years ago. 

And now, one of the piglets, a barrow [castrated male] seems to be interested in her...for her food, for fun, or for friendship? Who knows, but he visits her at the gate. Rosie is still on her own, but sleeps next tot he sheep and is very much part of the barnyard, but has her own suite and turnout. Could it be, Rosie is blossoming?

"Rosie! Are we outside today?" I asked as I found the pig at the gate, outside of her stall.

"Hrumpf um aha!" she said, not quite as grumpy as usual.

"It's a beautiful autumn day, Rosie!" I replied.

"Humrrumph!" she agreed.

Wait, she agreed?

And so, we have begun to wonder...could it be all those universal forces and guides I felt pulling us East to Maine was all for the sake of...a grumpy pig? Then again, why wouldn't Rosie have her own guides at work?

Will she make a friend, again? Perhaps Stevie is also guiding her.

{A gentle reminder, Kickstarter going on now to help birth the new book-do you love cats, or itty things?}

Rosie goes outside! Tripod hurts his nose! The Head Troll lines them up!

I sometimes wonder if our pull to Maine had nothing to do with our guides, it had to do with guides for the well being of The- World's-Grumpiest-Pig-I-Am-Fine-As-I-Am-Pig, aka Rosie. A couple years ago, I found Rosie shivering in a light rain. This was very unusual as she hates rain, and hates to be chilled. And she was nowhere near the barn stall she liked to sleep in. She was closer to Old Barn so I got her in there and bedded her down in an old lambing pen.

She never left. In fact, even in the new spring warmth, she refused to go outside. She had always loved the warm sun baths she took in her first years at Apifera. It saddened me, but she just was content in her large suite, bathed in Old Barn's light.
I suspect it had something to do with the arrival of Eleanor, who had come to mate with Earnest. And Rosie is no match for Eleanor.

Well, fast forward to Maine. Rosie again has her private suite, but it is next to the sheep pens. She is uninterested in being friends with anyone. You all know her only friend long ago was Stevie the goat, but he even started sleeping in another area as Rosie grew to like being alone. She likes to sleep, that is about it these days.

So I was really happy that in the last three days, she has been outside waiting for me for breakfast. And she eats outside. She goes right back to bed, but...she seems very content with her new sleeping arrangement. I suspect she is getting arthritic in her hind end too, which might be part of it.

Sir Tripod Goat's Nose: The oddest cut I've seen in awhile. You try your best to keep any dangerous object or fencing out of animal areas, but any farm is loaded with lurking dangers for all of us. I first thought it was just a scratch, but after I started treating it realized he'd sliced it somehow. He spends most of his time in his stall and pen, so I can't figure it out. But he is on penicillin and will be fine.

The Head Troll is aging. You can see it in her body and loss of muscle, thinning hair and one of her eyes is cloudy. She also has started to like getting scratched and petted, only by me, but this is unheard of. Our entire relationship has been built on a delicate balance of respect, hands-off care taking and love-hate day to day. Hate is a strong word, love-irritation? This is a goat that can get stuck in anything, I'm sure always for a good reason in her thinking. But she is now living out with the sheep, and Benedetto and Birdie, near the equines and Rosie. She is about 30 pounds I'd say, but is no pussy cat around the very large and dominant Assumpta, or Calla, the two matriarch ewes. The Head Troll makes it clear at feeding time what side of the hay you need to be on if you are a sheep, she somehow gets them all over there on the opposite side of her in one swoop, and watches for any transgression of boundaries to her side of the hay. If that happens, pow, head butt.

The Head troll still has it. I'm glad. I want her to live out her life as herself as much as possible. She has a pretty good stash of handbags too since arriving.

Making progress

We are making progress. More fencing up so equines have a grass paddock, and now a shoot out to the beginnings of another field area. That field is about 2 acres and will be fully fenced this coming month. We will fence all fields by year's end, I hope. I also got up the piglet paddock/run that comes off the barn stall, and Martyn is working on putting up more picket fence which he is making so we can have Huck, Mud and Hughie running free in the yard again [that will be a relief]. Like I don't have enough to do, I couldn't stand not buying some plants for the garden beds by the house.

Something I really like about our new place is the proximity of the barn and animals to the house. When we sit on the back porch, our nightly routine, I can hear Rosie snoring, piglets suckling and can see the donks and Boone. The barn door is about 20 feet from me, where as the old farm was spread out all over. Things are closer together here which makes sense since winter is harsh and snow shoveling an issue. The new barn will sit about 100 feet from the other barn.

As is the case with creatures, they have immediate needs of fencing for safety, exercise and my ability to care for them properly. The property came with a small barn which is very well built but only two stalls-large ones-and that we are grateful for.I have runs we've put up off those, and in time that will be Misfit and pig area, but for now, the donkeys and Boone also have space there until the new barn and other field is fenced.

But everyday we make progress. Yesterday was a big one since I was able to get up the small pig paddock off the stall, and after two weeks of living inside, the piglets, Birdie, Sir Tripod Goat and Eleanor and Cornelia saw daylight. We were all relieved. I neglected to get a proper swimming pool for them so will get one, or help them make a small pool. Bad for mosquitos, but pigs like mud.

Boone is full of himself and I think I will rent time at the barn he boarded at to work some of his ya-yas out of him before I ride here. At the old farm, Boone had his own paddock and shared it with visiting goats or wandering sheep from time to time, but here in the day I let him be with the donkeys due to lack of fenced areas right now. He has been the dominant one which really surprised me as he is never the alpha with his horse buddies. Matilda is ever the protector of the minis and all in all everyone is happy. But it will be nice to get the larger fields fenced-hopefully in the coming month.

The piglets are pretty sweet, and funny. They are now leaping and playing with each other. Two are going to live with a friend of mine who also is moving to Maine from Portland and we have known her for a long time so I'm happy they will have a great home-I am fond of the two she is taking, especially the all ginger runt who is now catching up in size. I have been sitting and holding them all and he is the most personable.

Breaking News! Raggedy Man on probation!

"Did you hear?" asked Professor Otis Littleberry over morning hay. "He's on probation."

"Thank the Barn Gods! It's hard enough walking on three legs without him banging into me all the time," said little crippled Sir Tripod Goat.

"I won't miss him," said Sophie, "He got way to big for his beard after Stevie died."

Meanwhile in the upper barnyard....

"I did nothing wrong!" Raggedy Man pleaded as I led him back to his former stomping ground. "I demand to talk to my representative!"

"I'm your representative," I told him, "and you have been too rough on Victor and Tripod and need a time out up here to remember how to have manners."

Along came Marcella and the Head Troll.

Raggedy let out some distress bleats, and then a long sigh.

"You again," he said to Marcella.

Marcella was delighted. She has another Misfit to romp with even when he doesn't want to romp. But between her and the Head Troll, Raggedy will get a taste of his own medicine.


Raggedy took a sudden behavior turn after Stevie died. He just got a bit pushy around feed time, smashing too hard into the crippled Misfits. This is actually normal goat behavior. There is nothing wrong with it. But I decided it was time to put him back in the main barnyard with younger charges-and some Misfits who won't take his gruff. I see this happen all the time–one animal dies and the hierarchy is shifted.

Raggedy is just a wonderful little chap. He came here skinny and stinky having been recently neutered, and as you can see he has added plenty of weight-which is another reason he is being moved, he eats too much of the feed. Back then you could hardly get him to enjoy a gentle touch or back scratch, now he understands the pleasure of it-cookies or no cookies.

Please know that the upper barnyard ain't too shabby. In fact, it has its benefits to the Lower Village, so do not for one minute think Raggedy is suffering. I wouldn't be surprised if he protests if I put him back int he Lower Village.

Lady llamas and Misfit updates

Since Old Rudy's death a few weeks ago, it has been calm as far as medical issues with the Misfits. I felt this year would be a lot of losses, and I my intuition was correct. But I knew it would be losses of the first animals of Apifera–Stella, our first goat, for example. We have been here eleven years so I sensed a changing of the guard would begin in this new decade.

I still will hear Stella. She and Iris were a team, and i often slip and call Iris by Stella's name. I apologize of course. Iris without Stella is odd. So many little energy orbs float in and out of the barnyard for me, poking me, reminding me of a face, a special bleat or distinctive voice of one Misfit or another.

I'm so enjoying Birdie. I have her up in Boone's normal paddock, with the elder ponies. I move the animals around depending on my needs, and on what pastures I have my sheep in. It's complicated. One of the complications is that the new boy llama, who went from being called Ollie Ollie Oxen Free to Wendell [and I'm not sure that's right either], is still intact and can't be castrated for another few months. So I can't run him with the flock if they are fenced by Birdie because we don't want llama love-I know you all would love a a baby llamas! But for now, Birdie must remain virginal. There just aren't enough virgins in the world.

Having Birdie in a spot where I see and handle her multiple times a day is so enjoyable, and rewarding. And of course helpful to tendering any creature. Time, that is what animals need with us, and touch. What a unique creature she is. I think she might have some swan in her after seeing this photo, or maybe Grace Kelly has been reincarnated into her.

All the Misfits are doing pretty well. Old Mama Sugee, our earless wonder is eating but not swallowing her food as well. I am anticipating issues by winter-but I said that last fall. She has had one seizure this month which I witnessed, but I haven't more since. If she continues with more seizures, I will make decisions, and not hesitate this time. She has had an extension to her already long life by coming here-but a life with seizures on top of everything else she has going on is not good quality for her. Meanwhile Wilma, her chubby elder daughter, has her ups and down depending on the season due to her chronic founder issues.

You can see Sir Tripod Goat in one of these photos, the little black goat that can't use one leg. He arrived very skittish, and still is with newcomers. But, he finally has figured out that back scratches are divine, especially when I get to this one out of way spot on his hind end that he can't reach. I find that tendering an animal with treats has its limits-I want them to understand even without food, I'm pretty safe and nice to be with. I remember how long it took Raggedy Man to stand for scratching, now he's a love muffin.

I like having the species mix. I think its good for them. Why wouldn't it be? I don't want to only be around people, I think it gives them excitement, drama, humor and something to keep them on their toes.

More Updates:

The Cats of Apifera: After the loss of Mama Kitty, the matriarch, it seems so catless. We are down to Plum and Little Orange on the deck, Hazel in the barn, Tomentosa comes and goes, Big Tony and Itty Bitty in the house, and Peaches the kitty slut. In some ways, it's a relief. But I still think about the different faces that lived here-all 25 of them–and have spurts of missing each of them.

Donkeys are all fine. Matilda is on supplement year round now and holds her weight well.

Stevie has been strong and active all summer, so far, He hates heat so we are glad for more normal temps.

Raggedy Man, Professor Otis Littleberry, Scooby Keith, The Head Troll, Wilbur, Moose and Goose are all well. Watching their pygmy bodies in a line heading for breakfast-it never ceases to crack me up. I must get a video for you.

Sophie and Victor face the challenges of their condition with grace. Sophie is doing excellent, and is more personable each day-a rewarding thing for me, and is putting on some real weight. Victor is doing his best with cheer and sweet smiles. I watch him like a hawk for signs of further issues.

Rosie the pig is grumpy,of course, and living in her private suite. I am going to do a post on her soon. She has put back on the weight she lost in the winter, and her skin is looking good, probably because she is inside the barn all the time.

Priscilla the Old Goose just keeps on going, but now only has one duck to shepherd. I sense that final duck is a bit lost. We lost so many of them this year, two from age, one to an eagle strike, and one to a raccoon.

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