Sage's Worst Nightmare

Dear rotten Sage. It has probably been the hardest on him to suddenly have six younger 'siblings' added to the household. The first year has gone by and we've all had to adjust, and adjust some more. He has done much better than I expected, but I know that we aren't out of the woods yet. My chief troublemakers (in the scheme of cat relationships) tend to be the three 'red-headed' boys--Sage, Gabe & Noah-- and they are continually pushing when they find any little opening. Some days there is allot of policing by the water bottle totin' human-bean. They do not care for that much.


So, back to Sage. He has always been a Conflicted Soul. He tried to pretend when he was a kitten that he was 'normal' but it soon became apparent that normalcy was wearing him down. Sage doesn't like to be touched--he has a 'my space' circle a mile wide--...only sometimes he does like to be petted. But then he gets aggravated if he thinks I'm 'making fun' or laughing at him, which I rarely am. He can and does bite and scratch, although of course it's discouraged. But he can also be very loving. He yells at me if I'm getting on to him. I have to be careful how he is handled in 'discipline' situations because they can quickly get out of control, and I'll have a huffy puffy swearing stalking caterwauling cat on my hands. One time he was playing under the blankets(pre-kitten invasion) and something happened--still not sure what--and Sage had a total and complete meltdown and wailed and hissed and carried on from under the nightstand for quite some time. It can be disconcerting to all involved.

He and Meshach have carved out a relationship over the years, mostly of aggravating each other, but occasionally a sweet lick on the head or such. However Sage is not a snuggler, and really is quite sensitive about being touched as I mentioned above.


About six months into the kitten invasion, Sage began to 'play' with the kittens. By this I mean he would run really fast and they would chase him. It was very exciting. If anyone got to close they got smacked and/or sworn at--but it was okay to chase him. Then Tempe decided that she loved Sage and he must love her too. Really, it reminded me of one of these books or movies, where you have the little girl who befriends the gruff old town hermit (who of course is a hermit because something terrible has happened in his life), and changes his life in a positive way forever.



The first not so subtle tactic Tempe used was to launch herself at Sage and grab him around the neck and wrestle him. Sage looked horrified to say the least---one of them.....touched him! However he was remarkably tolerant and just stalked away. Well, of course to Tempe this meant a green light. She was careful though for awhile and didn't over do it--she also didn't take 'bug off' for an answer.


Then suddenly a month or so ago, she latched on to Sage and became his best bud--whether he needed one or not. I thought it rather hilarious, myself. Everywhere Sage was, there was Tempe too. Sage on the computer cabinet? So was Tempe. Sage laying in the recliner? So was Tempe. Sage on the bed? You get the picture. The amazing part was and is that Sage seems to not only tolerate the little micro-managing furball, but he also seems to enjoy having her around. Now he even plays with her--chases, tackles and all. I'm not sure how she managed to win him over, when he would do the smack down on any of the others that dared to be so in his face, but her persistence has paid off.

Me and my Sage

Seriously who could resist me?

Time For Shots!

(This post actually should have been before the kitty shots drama!)

What? We get to go for a ride??

A few weeks back it was time to haul the dogs in to get their shots. For quite a few years I've been only having them vaccinated for everything every three years (when their rabies is due).

Coincidentally both dogs were due within the same month. Since I've only had Ashley a little over a year, it was nice to have this work out. On one hand this is great because it means one trip to the vet. On the other hand, it's not so great because it falls right around the holidays and means more money to spend when there isn't a lot of extra to spend.

Since I (finally) figured out that Boone would happily load in the truck as long as he got to ride in the back 'jumpseat' area of the truck, it's been much easier to haul him to the vet. He can easily step up into the truck. If he gets wedged, I just open the other door for him to step out! He can turn around, but it is quite an ordeal--even with the one seat pushed all the way up. Putting two rather large dogs into the cab of a small pickup truck makes for a full load.

Ashley takes up the front seat...

Boone sits in the middle behind the seats. Ashley gets boosted up into the passenger front seat. Boone is afraid he will miss something, so he pretty much sits the whole time looking very sad or panting loudly. The day I took them in was pretty cold, but I had to turn off the heat, because both dogs got 'too hot'. Jeez.

At the vet's we lucked out and were the only ones there. The dogs went in happily enough and were pretty cheerful through the entire thing. While one tech petted them, the other stuck them. They never even flinched. One thing I definitely wanted to do was weigh them while we were there. One of the tech's tried to pull Boone up on on the scale. I knew that wasn't going to work, so I asked her to let me in front and then told Boone to get up on the scale. He was very cooperative once he understood what I needed. I never try to pull or push him anywhere. Because you just can't, and that is that.

Boone sticks his head between the seats, so he won't miss anything.

Boone weighed in at a whopping 130 pounds, although only up 3 pounds from his last visit three years ago. I was happy to see that he is maintaining a moderate weight gain. (Anymore than that would just cause even more stress on his already stressed joints). Then it was Ashley's turn on the scale. Oh my. The little porker came in at 60 lbs which is not good for her size and frame. That is about the same as Jody my first sable collie weighed and she was taller and bigger boned. Dieting was in her future for sure. (note I said was...I'll let you know more about that later!)

The dogs were excellent little patients and a stop at Mickey-D's for some french fries was in order (diet could start the next day!). Happily no one had any reactions to the shots and it's over now for a good while.

Can we go home now?

Sheep One, Shepherd Zero

When it comes to feeding the sheep hay, things have been a little different this year. The whole hay buying deal hasn't been normal this either. Firstly my regular hay guy that I get square bales from didn't put up any squares this year. So I was referred to his brother. The price was nice and they were delivered as usual. However...the bales are nasty, the size of the bales all over the map and so on. Since the sheep aren't bred this year though, there is some leeway with the hay. They are grained daily.

On to the round bales, which is how I primarily feed them over the winter. I've arranged this deal with a local Mennonite that lives just down the road. I buy a bale as needed and his son drives it up and puts it in the sheep paddock. It works great...unless his truck is broken down! I finally got the first bale a few weeks ago, (delivered by a very cold boy on a tractor). Their truck is now fixed, thankfully. The biggest bonus to this system is that my Dad doesn't have to fire up his tractor, and we don't have to wrestle those overly large bales onto the bale buggy. (Last year they wouldn't even fit!)

I expected this bale to last at least three weeks, closer to three and half. As I mentioned though things are different with the hay feeding this year. When I added Callum (horned whether) to the flock and kept two wethered lambs (silly little horns), it made it a bit more complicated. Normally I use a 16 foot cattle panel wrapped around the bale to keep the sheep somewhat contained from the bale. Especially with Callum, this couldn't be done. The sheep have to reach in quite a ways to get the hay, and with his big horns he wouldn't be able to. Not to mention the risk of getting caught up.

See--this should last three weeks!

These bales are huge. You can see that from the picture of the newly delivered second bale. There are twenty sheep eating off it---15 of those shrimp sized Shetlands. It should have lasted beyond three weeks.

But it got even more complicated. The sheep decided to tunnel under and eat off only one side. The bale became progressively more unstable and dangerous, so I had to tip it on it's side. That is when the fun really began (for the sheep) and they proceeded to pound it to the ground. All the while, I'm telling them through gritted teeth--it will last you for three weeks! I mean it.

I held out to two weeks and three days. They really did eat most of it up and were digging through the wreckage daily. If you look at the photo again where the new bale is, off to the left where most of the sheep are standing was the old bale. Not even a hump left. But I couldn't take the squalls and reproachful looks any longer. And there was that snowstorm that was suppose to move into the area.....

The biggest piggies of the bunch are four out of five of the big white sheep. Gracie (the matriarch) does have some decorum about it all. The other four just eat...and eat...and eat.

Rouen (11 years old) begs for her nightly cookie

But we aren't paying 27.00 every two weeks for a new bale. Three weeks, maybe. So I have a plan. If they continue to abuse the situation, I will have the next bale put in another smaller paddock. They will have access to it during the day, but will be shut out at night. I'll switch their grain feeding from a.m. to p.m. to facilitate getting them away from the hay. That way no more 24/7 gorging. Sounds like a good plan, huh? That is until the sheep stomp all over it.

Sure hope she doesn't expect our bowl of food to last three weeks.....

(Noah, Gabe, Chaco--and if you look closely you'll see more cat legs behind the stove)

Off To The Vet!

Unsuspecting...

The 'kittens', now nearly a year and half old were due for their first year booster shot(s). Technically I could give them their combination shot here at home, but not their rabies. Well, I could also give the rabies shot, but you have no 'official' documentation from a vet in the event they bite someone. I plan to put them on a three year cycle of vaccinations after this booster. I haven't decided on rabies shots, since they are 100 percent house cats. Yearly vaccination of my pets concerns me, and I have done it both ways over the years (yearly and every three years). In any event 'we' needed to get our shots.

In all my brilliance, I decided that it would be 'easier' to take them all at once. In my defense, it is a 72 mile round trip and it's rather difficult to schedule in multiple appointments around work.

Otherwise, what was I thinking.

My 'main concern' was Noah. I was sure he would freak out completely and shred the carrier in his efforts to get out. He does has some issues with being confined (and as all good pet parents, I blame it on his 'seizure disabilities', instead of thinking he might just be a brat). In light of this I found my biggest carrier and designated it for him and Gabe. The medium size carrier would hold Chaco and Verity, and the soft sided stylish carrier would be crammed with Tempe and Trinity. Newspapers and towels went down in the bottoms, and I packed a roll of paper towels, more newspapers, little plastic bags, trash bags,the cats in carriers and myself in the truck. I also had their record book, that while for the cats says 'sales--sheep/wool' on the side.

The kitties were very unsuspecting. They haven't learned about the equation "cat carrier = trip to vet" yet, so they were easy to stuff in the crates.

Once on the road all went well--at first. Gabe took it the hardest, he wailed and yelled and cried and sobbed (okay maybe not sobbed, but it was close). Pleasepleaseplease don't take me away from my home again...... Between his wailing and someone yelling in the back the noise level was high and consistent. But hey, 'we' can cope with that. Noah and Gabe were on the front seat so I could try and intervene if Noah went crazy. Noah didn't go crazy. He laid very quietly....and then very neatly threw up.

Great. I stopped, scooped out the worst and bagged it, put some paper towels over the spot and went on.

Okay. 'We' can cope with that.

A few more miles down the road, and an 'odor' started to permeate the truck. Oh please, please let that just be some one's sewer gas, or perhaps a kitten's gas. By this point I was running very close to being late. There was no way to safely get to the kittens in the carriers in the back floorboard of the truck...so I just kept driving, and gagging. By this time Gabe was catatonic (sorry, couldn't resist)--and lay as he had fallen. Head extended, eyes wide and desperate.

Meshach, Sage & Gabe-the old boys don't have clue either as they usually go to the vet in the soft sided carrier.

When I got to the vet, I carried the three loads in, and was able to pinpoint where the stink was coming from....Chaco and Verity's crate.

Luckily I was the only one in the office, so was able to at least pull out stinky and smeared papers so they sat on a 'clean layer'.

In the exam room, we started with Trinity and Tempe. My good girls--no throw up, no poop, no urine. Then it was Verity and Chaco. Poor little poop smeared kitties. I especially felt sorry for Verity, because she is such a little priss. As I pulled them out, I wiped them down with one of the towels I brought. It helped, but not much.

Lastly were Gabe and Noah, and Gabe's nice little surprise. Seems he had pooped too, but he was so overcome with the futility of it all that he just pooped and lay there so it wasn't smeared anywhere. Thankfully I had brought my roll of paper towels and extra newspapers!

The kitties all seemed to check out fine--their weights still range from 13 lbs (Noah) down through Tempe at an even 7 lbs. This vet doesn't usually talk allot, but he asked more questions than he ever had. Were they all out of the same litter? Yes, even though there is a such a difference in size, shape and color. He asked if they all had different personalities. (Yes!) If they all got along (Most of the time). If they were indoor cats. (Yes) Were they all spayed and neutered. (Most definitely--I may be a CCL--but I'm not that crazy!) Then we discussed how many litter boxes I had and what type of litter I used. I was beginning to think he was trying to see if I was indeed a crazy cat lady....

I refused to bring up that I also have two other cats in the house...although, I'm afraid they made the connection themselves....

Then came the moment of truth--paying the bill. That was a big chunk, but we've been putting by for it for awhile. The receptionist (who also happens to be the vet's wife) told me I kept better records of my cats than she had of her kids. I told her I had to, with so many it would be easy to forget or not notice something vital.

So. That was done and the trip home was a little tense (on my part) but uneventful. As each kitty came out of their carrier in the house they were checked over to see if they needed to be de-toxed. Verity and Chaco both got a scrubbing over with a warm washcloth. Fortunately cats are very quick to clean up and by later in the evening, little sewer cat (Verity) was back to her normal squeaky clean self.

Everyone was very glad to be home. I was drained. Gabe was like a big sack of happy glue all night. Wherever I was there he was. Every time I woke up in the night he was plastered to my side, and would squinch his eyes and grin (I swear it looked like a grin to me) at me and purr so loud I couldn't hear anything else. He was home and he was happy.

Next time, I'm taking them in shifts.

Gabe's Promises of Desperation

I won't beat up my sisfurs very much
I won't beat up by brofurs unless they make me
I won't follow Sage and look at him much
I won't jump out at Sage --only a little
I will love my brofur Noah and not steal his treats (unless I have to)
I won't unmake the bed by:
tunneling under the covers and jumping straight up in the air...
repeatedly...until the bed is a Big Mess
I won't get trappeds behind the china cabinet no more
I won't scream sixty zillion times a day every time my 'bean goes near
the treat cabinet
I won't hog the bed at night or bite my 'bean if she tries to move her legs
I will be good even if it kills me.
I will be the bestest cat EVFUR!
The end.

(For those of you who don't remember, Gabe and Noah were given away for a brief six weeks, before their 'new' owner decided she couldn't handle them. I brought them back home then. The adjustment at both places was very hard for Gabe, and I think he was truly happy to be back in his own little world that evening!)

1.1.11--Happy New Year!

It's a cold one here today on the little farm, but the sun is shinning. The birds are mobbing the feeders and the cats are worn out with watching. I've got black eyed peas with ham simmering on the wood stove (as well as a piece of chocolate chip bread warming for a snack) and plan to enjoy them later with some cornbread. It's just a quiet day here and am doing a few things I enjoy along with the regular chores. I hope to make a felted scarf here in a bit--that will be my creative project to start the year off right. Hopefully I can get a few posts worked up--I've got lots of stories!;-) From Christmas treats for all the critters to the trauma of taking six cats to the vet at once for shots.

Hope you have a blessed New Year, filled with kindnesses to you and from you, joy in the simplest of things and peace for you and all of yours!

Noah & Chaco