|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 9, 2019 21:21:47 GMT -6
We have a variety of pets, but one of each species always seems to stand out above its companions. We have three dogs, and though all three are special, one follows any person in the family who is active at any time. He is a miniature Shiatsu that someone gave to me, because he's slightly cross-eyed and has a 1/2" inch under bite. They said he was retarded and could not be potty trained.
He never gave me a moment's trouble. I think he just needed someone to love him. His name is Chester and he is as busy as a little squirrel, never missing a thing. He has such a soft heart that if you ever even scolded him, it would just crush his soul.
Chester has more personality than the other two dogs combined. If I ever sit down, he's right there, whining for me to put my foot forth, to give him a boost to the top of the little footstool where he likes to curl up right in front of me. The footstool was originally intended for me to use as a foot rest but Chester claimed it, so now, we share it. He keeps my toes warm in winter, I rub his back with my stocking feet.
Sometimes, I'll glance down and see him standing there in front of his footstool, like he's trying to kick start a little motorcycle; He'll be reaching behind himself with his back leg, without even looking, trying to feel for my foot, so he can step up on it. He whines, then just expects someone will always have a foot there, waiting to give him a boost. He's so cute, you just can't resist doing it for him.
We have 6 cats, one mama cat, and her five half-grown kittens. Out of all the cats, one of them never misses a family member walking across the yard. His name is Tux because he's black and white and looks like he's wearing a tuxedo. I don't know how he manages to always be right beside me, but every time I look down, I see Tux walking along, trying to anticipate my next move.
Nearly every time I cross the footbridge behind our house, he's already on top of the handrail, pacing right beside me as I go to feed the pig, the geese, the dogs, and the chickens. He's so happy just to be near a person, that you can hear him purring as he walks along beside you.
The geese chase him off every day, but Tux doesn't care. He just antagonizes them by circling around back ahead of us, where he'll lay on his back, swishing his tail, and waiting to be chased again. (I think he likes it.)
If I climb up a ladder to get on the roof, Tux climbs right up behind me. If I come down the ladder, Tux climbs back down the ladder right behind me. If he gets left behind on a family walk, he'll cry like a truck is parked on his tail. All the dogs will perk their ears and turn back to see what's wrong. When we start walking back to check, it will just be Tux, saying, "Hey wait for me!" He loves the dogs as much as he loves his people.
Sweet Pea is the 'Tux' and the 'Chester' of the goose world. Sometimes, I wonder how it is that we have so many cool animals all at once. We live in a very happy place. There is always peace here.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 10, 2019 15:13:19 GMT -6
I've been out in the yard, staining trim to go around my new back door today. Naturally, the geese have been right there with me the whole time. One of my trim pieces was 16' feet long and hung near the ground on the end that protruded past the farthest saw horse.
The geese took the low hanging opportunity to repeatedly 'taste' the fresh stain as I was busily flipping the board to apply a second coat. I don't know why they do things like that? Geese have long tongues that hang out of their mouths in hot weather; each time they would nibble the end of my trim piece, they would hang their tongues out and shake their heads from side to side because of the bad taste, but that didn't stop them from doing it again. Any time I flipped the long board to expose a better angle for brushing my stain on, they'd 'taste' it again, then wag their heads because of the taste.
A few months ago, when the Tabasco peppers were red and ripe, I harvested the whole plants to bring them home to work on making pickled peppers. A few minutes after I drove back to the house, I saw one of my white ganders with what I thought was blood on his neck. Upon closer examination, I discovered the red juice had pepper seeds in it. He had been standing behind my truck, where I had laid a Tabasco plant across the tailgate. By the time I saw what was going on, about 1/4 of the red peppers were eaten by the geese. They had pulled the entire plant out of the back of my truck and had been 'tasting' the reddest peppers then spitting them out. Who knows why they do things like that?
They are comical to watch at times. When I'm out in the yard cracking open dried okra pods to harvest my seeds, the geese will sneak up and swipe a mouthful of seeds from my seed bowl and run away, like it's a game.
They know I'll swat them if they get close enough, so they'll stand at arm's length, then dart in and grab a seed any time I'm not looking. They'll stand there and side eye me, like they're not really looking, then run around and try to swipe another seed; barely averting my hand as I reach out to swat at them. The crazy thing is, they don't even like okra seeds. If I put okra seeds in their feed trough they won't eat them, but once they find out that I have an okra pod that has seeds in it and that they can't have any of them, they'll spend the rest of the day trying to steal one from me.
They are as ornery as any 3-year-old-child. They are a lot more intelligent than chickens, but do dumber things, like sneaking up and swiping hot coals that fall out of the smoker while I'm tending the fire. I have to keep a bucket of water handy, to extinguish any coals that fall out because the geese will snap them up as soon as I drop one; just because of their playful nature.
(This is the same playful nature that makes things like the Zombie Goose Attack possible.) A chicken would never fall for that.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 12, 2019 20:25:20 GMT -6
Today, I was converting an old dresser into a storage cabinet for kitchen utensils, by removing the drawers, then taking a Sawzall and cutting the drawer dividers, and drawer supports out. Once all the braces and supports were removed, I built shelves in their place and fastened raised panel, oak doors across the front, where the drawer fronts once were.
While I was busy doing that, the geese were busily 'tasting' my supply of wood screws and nails. I think they nibbled everything in the entire box!
While I was crouched down on one knee, doing some chisel work, Sweet Pea took the opportunity to hop up on my shoulder, with both his wings hanging down for balance. When I set him off my shoulder, so I could see what I was doing, he started slowly walking a big circle back to me, with his head hung low. When he got near enough, he lifted one foot and started pawing at my knee.
I knew he wanted me to hold him or to let him on my shoulder again, but I had too much work to do to pick him up.
When dusk fell, the other geese started heading for the roost out back, but Sweet Pea stayed with me until they disappeared out of sight. Finally, he meandered to the corner of the house so he could see the other geese and still keep an eye on me. I could hear the other geese honking at him, but he wouldn't get out of my line of sight to go join the group, so I got up from what I was doing and walked him around the corner to go to roost with the others.
I thought I had them all headed toward the goose enclosure, but a few minutes later, when I returned to my work, I noticed all four geese standing right there beside me again. I ended up having to drive them the whole way to the goose pen so I could finish my project.
Sometimes, they remind me so much of little children, that I don't want to leave them locked in the enclosure, even though that's their safe place and it's past their bedtime.Now, I have a place out in my summer kitchen, to put all my stirring spoons, butcher knives, and various utensils. When I designed the kitchen, I kind of made it long on table space and short on storage. (It takes a lot of space to store all those pots and pans! I also have a new place to hang my measuring cups, and measuring spoons, plus the old Chestnut top makes a good place to put my dough board when I'm rolling out pie dough. We get a lot of use and enjoyment out of this kitchen. I'm glad I was able to put this old piece of furniture to good use. After the mirror broke off and the drawer slides and fronts were shot, this old dresser was destined for the dump. I'm not sure what gave me the idea of gutting it out and turning it into a cabinet?
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 14, 2019 8:44:50 GMT -6
That wouldn't surprise me. Geese are very social animals. Yesterday, I heard them making a 'churtling sound' the same happy sound they make when they find something good to eat, but they were in my wife's flowerbed, so that made me curious as to what was going on.
When I took a closer look, I saw Buddy laying in the tall evergreen border plants, with all four geese standing over him, preening his hair as if he had feathers. Later in the day, I saw Buddy walking with the geese as they were doing the same thing to him. Buddy is our only outside dog. It's nice to see him enjoying some companionship that way.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 22, 2019 2:59:27 GMT -6
When I first built the goose run, I also built a raised goose house inside it that is roughly 4' feet by 4' feet, with a tin roof and two sliding doors, so the geese could run up the inclined ramp entry in, through the front door, out the back door, through the water feature, then back around to do it again.
As things turned out, the geese hardly ever play in the water feature I built them anymore because they free range and we've had roughly 6' feet of rain this year. The geese prefer playing in the little creek between their enclosure and our house.
They also, never sleep inside the nifty goose house I spent so much time building for them. They prefer the open air instead. I can put them all inside the goose house during a pouring rainstorm and they'll all jump out before I even make it to the front door of the enclosure. They always return to their 'happy spot' in the open part of the pen, in the front corner of the goose run.
Finally, I just gave up on ever getting them to sleep in the goose house and piled straw and a couple of thousand de-seeded okra pods in that corner, so at least they would not be sleeping on bare ground.
Tonight, I needed a safe place to pen Buddy up for the night, as I don't trust leaving him on a leash with our marauding neighborhood dogs that would probably see him as 'dinner on a string' if he were left tied up.
So, I put Buddy in the goose enclosure for the night instead of leaving him on his 50' foot running leash. Josh and I filled the goose house with fresh straw, de-seeded okra pods, and Buddy's favorite blanket, so he'd feel more at home and went to bed at about 9:00 pm.
Hearing all kinds of goose commotion going on at about 2:00 am, I assumed the worst and took off out there in the 23-degree, frosty weather to see what was going on inside the enclosure.
When I got to the enclosure with my flashlight, I found Buddy curled up in the corner, where the geese sleep, with four geese in a dog pile, sleeping on top of him. All the commotion I heard, was just the four geese, playing 'King of the Mountain' to see who got to sleep on top of Buddy's back.
It was quite heartwarming to see that. So I scrounged some old, paper feed sacks and some cardboard to take out there for Buddy to lay on top of, to keep him off the cold ground. Then I went outside the enclosure and called Buddy to come lay back down on the feed sacks and cardboard. Then, I called Sweet Pea to come to me and resume his watch over Buddy.
By the time I left, all four of the geese were there with Buddy, all laying on fresh paper feed sacks and preening Buddy's fur like he was a goose. Buddy might very well be the only stock dog in Oklahoma wearing an eight-legged-goose-down-parka tonight.
Sweet dreams, Buddy.
|
|
|
Post by macmex on Dec 22, 2019 6:07:42 GMT -6
It is so good that they love one another! Buddy has turned out to be nearly an ideal farm dog. With him in that pen, you can be sure that no coon will try to break in.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Dec 27, 2019 22:42:26 GMT -6
CHIEF ROCK INSPECTORIf it's true that, 'Every farm needs a good rock inspector' then our farm ought to be well provided for!Needing one or not, Sweet Pea has appointed himself the "Official, Dry Creek Farm, Rock Inspector" And he's really good at his job. I think he takes pride in the work he does as the self-appointed department head.Since he took up the office of Rock Inspector General, I've not had a single stone go unsupervised ... Not one escapee, nor have any rocks come up missing or otherwise unaccounted for. Since I've gone out of the hog raising business, I've decided to pick up all the rocks from the old hog pen, so that I can mow out there this summer. I'm also working on transforming it into a place where I can grow elderberries in safety, where the deer can't get to my plants.There are thousands upon thousands of rocks in there, mostly the size of ping pong balls, to the size of baseballs; though, some are larger than basketballs.
Because most of the rocks are so small, I've been using a 5-gallon bucket to carry them. When I get a bucketful of rocks, I dump them in a wheelbarrow. When the wheelbarrow gets full, I push it over to the fence row to dump it out and return to the same spot to start the process all over. This job will no doubt take me weeks to complete, but Sweet Pea has taken it upon himself to be right there beside me, no matter what the cost. He waddles happily along beside me each day, inspecting every rock I pick up, poking his head down inside the bucket, checking each pebble for size, shape, and perfect uniformity, then using his beak to turn each one just so, he goes about his day of enforcing a strict standard of quality control ... Only, after he's done with his final inspection, can the bucket be cleared for shipping.At that point, I move it to the wheelbarrow for relocation to a quickly growing heap near the fence row.As I move along, picking up scattered stones, Sweet Pea will shuffle over, directly in front of me, placing one foot on my hand, to get my attention; wanting me to stop to give him a boost up to my shoulder where he can get the 'bird's eye view of the whole operation.From time to time, I'll reach over and brush him off, so I can see better. At which time, he will circle around to hop up on my back instead.Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get any chores done with a 7-pound goose perched on your back all day? I'll brush him away, only to have him reach over my shoulder and place his head down the inside collar of my shirt, trying to snuggle. As inconvenient as it is to put up with his constant affection, it's so sweet, that I just don't have the heart to shoo him away.This is what the entire hog pen looks like; small stones so thick you could literally walk across them without ever touching your feet on the soil below them. This is the 5-gallon bucket/wheelbarrow transport system. This is Sweet Pea. This is Sweat Pea on rock patrol. This is Sweet Pea carefully inspecting each stone. This is Sweet Pea conferring with Buddy about the scope and magnitude of the whole project and how without his assistance it would probably never actually get cleaned up. This is the end of day one ... A job well done. Notice the absence of stones in the foreground. Now, it's time to call it a day and go home to relax in our easy chair. After a long day in the field, Sweet Pea likes to take it easy, sitting in my lap, in 'his' folding chair.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Jan 8, 2020 18:59:43 GMT -6
MULTI-TASKING WATERFOWLSweet Pea has changed professions. He has gone from Chief Rock Inspector, to Head of the Carpentry Crew, all in the span of two weeks. (He's a multi-tasker, that's for sure). He doesn't miss a trick.
I've been out in the yard building a table to set potted plants on top of to keep the geese from cribbing all the new shoots off of my elderberry transplants.
Sweet Pea tastes every screw I use. He sets my screws out in advance, making sure I never use a Sheetrock screw where a deck screw would be more suitable.
He inspects every fitting, making sure I have tight joints, then double checks all the screws, to make certain they line up. He's a tough boss, watching every move I make and criticizing my work to no end. Sweet Pea taste testing the screws, sorting out all the good ones. Whatever he sets out of the bucket is what we use next. Sweet Pea, keeping a close eye on the workmanship. He knows that's a big part of quality control. Talk about the boss, always looking over your shoulder! This is insane!.. He even checks the torque adjustment for me, so I don't twist the heads off any screws. Sweet Pea trying to take the pencil out of my pocket. He probably saw something on the plans that he wanted to change.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Jan 9, 2020 17:28:26 GMT -6
Sweet Pea; my dominant Cotton Patch gander, who has gotten it into his head that he's going to be a parrot someday, took it upon himself to fly up on my shoulder this evening while I was kneeling down, transplanting thornless blackberries. I didn't see him coming, so I wasn't prepared to catch him in mid-air the way I usually do.
In his attempt to land, he cut the back of my neck again with his T-Rex toenails. I haven't even healed up from the last time he cut me, so I went to the truck, took out a bottle of 91% rubbing alcohol that I use as de-icer, and sprayed it on the fresh-cut ... Then, I went to catch Sweet Pea to bring him inside the house to trim his sharp claws.
I didn't think he'd like that much but he didn't seem to mind at all. When I got to the house, I carried him around under my arm until I found our dog's toenail clippers, sat down on the couch and laid Sweet Pea on his back; being careful to keep his crop lower than his head, so he wouldn't aspirate. Then I put my glasses on ...
(this is the part where all our dogs usually take off and try to hide somewhere). Anytime they see me pick up the clippers and put on my glasses, they know something's up. Sweet Pea, being new to the game, just laid there waiting to see what came next.
So, I pulled up his right foot, clipped all three toenails, then pulled up his left foot and clipped the other three. He just laid there on his back, not making a sound. Then, I got the nail file out and dressed the tips of his toenails, until they were all smooth and rounded off.
When I was done, I turned him loose and he just laid there on his back with his feet still poking in the air, like he was waiting for the toenail polish part of his pedicure. He cracks me up!
Seeing that he wasn't going to try to get up on his own, I rolled him over on his feet and he stood up in my lap. Then, he looked me in the face and made the saddest, longest, most mournful, whining, "Honk" I've ever heard.
I looked at him and thought, "That really sounded sad ... I wonder what's wrong?"
Then I realized what was going on ... All the other geese were standing outside the living room window, calling for their missing companion. Sweet Pea could see them standing out there but he wasn't trying to get loose to go to them. As soon as I figured out what was going on, I took him to the front door to turn him loose --- Man! was he ever ready to go!
When I opened the door, he sprang up and took off flapping his wings for all he was worth, but I still had hold of him by the feet. I almost dropped him when he sprang back to life so suddenly. I quickly reached out to support his breast while he was still flapping like the Dickens, and sat him down to go rejoin his friends. When they saw him coming, they all took off running, except for Sweet Pea. He just made a big U-Turn and came back to honk at me to follow them back around the corner of the house. I still had a toenail tool mess to clean up, so I didn't go but it sure was nice of him to offer.
Well, I suppose I'd better get off of here. It's dark outside now, and I can still hear the geese standing outside in the dark, nibbling at the threshold, when they ought to already be in bed.
|
|
|
Post by macmex on Jan 9, 2020 19:26:52 GMT -6
You know, Ron, if you could come up with a good illustrator, you could turn this into a fantastic children's story book!
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Jan 10, 2020 23:41:34 GMT -6
Muddy Goose Lovin'sI have a lot of fun with my Cotton Patch Geese. They're great company to have around while I'm outside doing my daily chores. Yesterday, Sweet Pea jammed his head all the way up to his eyeballs in the hog wallow mud, then waltzed right over to me and attempted to preen the whiskers on my beard while I was looking the other way. He darn near got away with it too, but I saw him creeping up on me, out of the corner of my eye, looking like a chocolate dipped ice cream cone with white feathers. "Oh no!" I said, as I pushed him away.
"You go wash that mud off of your face before you try any more of that!" After his unsuccessful attempt to smooch me on the face, he tried to charm Buddy into a big ol' smooch too, but Buddy wasn't having any part of it, and promptly ran the other way.
... Sweet Pea would not relent, so we finally had to shoo him off ... As he slowly shuffled away, he hung his head just a little; no doubt, filled with regret that he hadn't been able to trick anyone into giving him a smooch. Moments later, he returned as if he had understood exactly what it was that I had told him to go do. Who could resist this innocent little face? --- So, I motioned to him with open arms, "Come here and give me a hug, you little booger!"
And here he came, flapping his wings, as he flew right up on my shoulder ... The sad part of all this, is that after having known him for so long, I still didn't check to see if he had also washed his feet ... Sure enough, he had not. His feet were even muddier than his face had been a few moments earlier and he slathered my whole coat sleeve with mud.
Mission accomplished! ... Here he sits, smug as can be, riding along, perched happily on my forearm on our way home to wash up.
Even with all the mud he gets on me, I can never get mad at Sweet Pea; he's too conniving and too darn cute to get mad at.
Sometimes, it's really hard to get any serious work done with Sweet Pea always poking his head in and out to see what I'm doing, but you gotta love him for always being there, and for being so interested in what ever it is that I'm doing, no matter how mundane the chore.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Jan 21, 2020 17:10:06 GMT -6
In light of the coming rainstorm that is forecast to last for the next two days, I thought I'd better get outside today and enjoy any sunlight that I could, no matter how chilly it might be. I didn't really have a reason to be out there other than to get some exercise, so I invented something that needed to be done out in the woods.
I went to the barn and found an old handsaw and some lopping shears and took off looking for a project.
We have an old sled hill that we cleared for the kids back when we had our last decent snow in February of 2011. It's a very steep grade, about a 45-degree angle, or maybe a little steeper in a place or two.
Since the sled run has not been used in recent history, the sprouts have pretty much taken it over. So, I put on some knee pads, to protect my overalls from the mud and started at the bottom of the hill, just whacking sprouts and throwing them by the wayside.
A few minutes into it, I heard a familiar sound ... It was Sweet Pea, walking through the woods, seeking me out with the other three geese in tow. I was probably a little over an eighth of a mile from our house when he caught up to me. By then, I was ready for a short break anyhow, so I laid my loppers aside and called him to me.
First thing, he ran up my chest and settled on my shoulder, as I cocked my elbow out to one side to make a better place for him to stand. I had on a stocking hat again, so he had to check that all over. Fortunately, this one didn't have a yarn ball on top for him to tug at, so instead of making himself a nuisance by trying to yank my stocking hat off, he just poked his whole head down the inside collar of my coat instead!
I ended up having to lay down in the leaves to carefully lift him out of the back of my collar, to keep him from accidentally falling off my shoulder with his head poked down in the neck of my tee-shirt.
Needless to say, I didn't get much done for the rest of the time I was out there, but we had fun wrestling around in the leaves with Buddy and all the other geese ... I have chickens too, but they just don't have the same temperament. Geese remind more of flying dogs than they do of any other fowl I've ever encountered.
Sweet Pea goes everywhere I do, if he can find me before I get out of range of his stubby little legs.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Feb 3, 2020 12:20:07 GMT -6
'Rocky' the Rock Inspector, is Back on Patrol!Since this most recent warm front has moved in for a couple of days before the impending snow, and a couple of days after the heavy rains, I've been taking advantage of the break in weather, to pick up a few more rocks from my old hog pen.
(I'm converting it to a berry patch and will need to be able to mow it later).
As soon as Sweet Pea saw me carrying a 5-gallon bucket across the yard ... Here he came! Wings flapping, and honker, honking, "Wait for me!" was what he was probably trying to say, so I stopped and let him catch up.
As soon as the other geese regrouped, I continued through the hog pen gate, to the 'rock quarry', to pick up where I had left off the last time around.
Sweet Pea picked up right where he had left off the last time around too. Within minutes, my first bucket was full of rocks and ready to be carried out, but by then, Sweet Pea had found something inside that he wasn't satisfied with and took up residence on top of the bucket I was filling, until he had carefully inspected the contents and all its surroundings, before letting it pass his inspection. Sweet Pea's got a keen eye, maybe when he flies up my shoulder, he thinks he's a hawk and not a parrot at all?"What on Earth are you doing, Sweet Pea? That's my rock picking bucket you're trying to lay an egg in!" Maybe, I should have named him, "Curious George". Sometimes, he's a nuisance, but he's always entertaining and fun to have around. Sometimes, I don't get much done because of his antics, but he is always good company to have while trying to do my otherwise tedious chores.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Mar 16, 2020 15:30:44 GMT -6
---Self-Appointed Fire Chief--- Sweet Pea is still at it. This week, while preparing to make another batch of Biochar, Sweet Pea was right there with me. He never misses an opportunity to tag along; any time he sees me working outside, here he comes running, to see what I'm up to.In January, and again in February, Sweet Pea became our farm's first, 'self-appointed', Official, Dry Creek, Rock Inspector --- taking it upon himself to physically inspect every single rock I touched, no matter how small. I'm not sure just what it is he's looking for when he does that, but he looks at every one of them before they go into the bucket. Sometimes, he gets to be such a nuisance; poking his head in and out of the bucket, that I've had to catch him and pen him up, for fear that I might accidentally conk him out with one of the rocks I'm tossing.***The unfortunate thing about Sweet Pea's new hobby as Fire Chief, is that geese are so well insulated, I don't think they can actually feel the heat as they approach a burning hot fire.*** I think I may have mentioned back in November, or December, that while smoking Holiday Hams or Turkeys, I have to keep an eye out for the geese, because they'll attempt to pick up any hot coals that happen to fall out of the smoker when I open the door to tend the fire.
(They are very curious, and very quick, little devils).
More than once, while burning brush this winter, I've had to drop everything to rush over and snatch one of them back from the precipice of the flames; just in time to keep them from wandering right into the brush pile and "COOKING THEIR OWN GOOSE".
A time or two, Sweet Pea has come back shaking his head, having inhaled the hot smoke, and barely escaping with only a few singed feathers.These geese remind me of the Dodos on the movie, "Ice Age." I've been experimenting over the past several weeks, by trying different methods of preparing Biochar. One method is to dig a fairly deep, tapered pit, that resembles a giant funnel. The edges of the fire pit are to be dug at about a 63-degree angle to facilitate the correct amount of gravitational pull, so the charcoal in the bottom of the pit is smothered as you add more wood to the top each time around.As I was digging the tapered fire pit, the geese would just walk right off, into it. Mostly out of curiosity, I think. Who knows?
They kept doing this, even as I was gathering firewood. So, I would return to the pit, with an armload of wood, and nearly every trip, would find one of the geese stuck in the bottom of the steeply tapered hole.
If the fire had already been lit, the last two females of the flock would have been cooked and nearly ready for dinner by the time I returned. (It's no wonder that Cotton Patch Geese are a Critically Endangered Species).
Once the fire was lit, I had to pen all of the geese up for fear one of them might walk right off into the pit while the fire was burning. They don't seem to have any sensation of temperature change as they approach the flames ... I suppose that make sense, as strange as it might sound, for I've seen them fly from their enclosure first thing on a 15-degree winter morning and jump straight into the running water of our creek. It would give me the shivers, just to see them do that, but they seem to take it all in stride. There's no way they can sense temperature change, or they wouldn't do things like that.
As comical as their antics are, and as much as I enjoy having them out there for the companionship they provide, I still have to pen them up on occasion or their endless curiosity would be their undoing.
|
|
|
Post by heavyhitterokra on Mar 16, 2020 19:24:34 GMT -6
Welding Inspector Sweet Pea's got a new side-gig, as Very 'Temporary' Welding Inspector.
I've been busy of late, building a cylinder dolly for my gas welding rig, so I can finally cart my gas bottles around without having to pick them up to carry them from job to job around the farm.Of course, any time Sweet Pea sees me out in the yard, he's got to come over to see how he might be able to help.
Here's the project, all laid out and ready to be fitted with hard rubber tires. You can see Sweet Pea in the background, (upper left) walking away from the rest of the flock, coming over to check this out. I had just finished using the gas welder to attach a new 5/8" spindle to replace the old 1/2" spindle that held two lawnmower wheels. I'm outfitting this old dolly with bigger tires, so I can pull it around out in the yard with a heavier load. I used plastic bushings to space the hubs out wider, so the cart would not tip sideways quite so easily while carting the heavy cylinders around. Here's Sweet Pea, just arriving on the job, to check out my work. Now, he's giving me the 'Okay' to attach the new wheels. The finished product, ready to go to work.
The reason Sweet Pea is not in this last photo, is because when I lit the torch, to cut the top out of the barrel there in the background, he heard the load 'POP' of the acetylene lighting, and the roar of the oxygen coming on and took off for the woods! Now, he doesn't trust me well enough to come back to see if I cut the lid off to suit him. "Come back Sweet Pea!" "No Way Jose!!!"
|
|