The Danger of Collars

Boomer during happier times.

I used to see these memes on Facebook about dog collars being dangerous to be honest I figured people were over-reacting. After all, I’ve had dogs my whole life and they have never had any issues with their collars. I figured it would take a one in a million chance that something like this could happen right? Besides, it seemed way more dangerous to NOT have a collar on my dog and have them get lost with no way for people to identify and contact me than to wear a simple, little collar. Apparently I had been very lucky. That long standing misconception changed in mere minutes yesterday.

Hubs and I were outside working on one of the ninety million projects we have around the farm and the dogs were playing a few feet from us. Suddenly they went from making happy, play noises to Boomer screaming in pain and panic. As I was scrambling to climb down from where I had been working on the ladder I could see him thrashing around, throwing his body one way and then another trying to get away from Shandy. Shandy, although confused was doing her best to stay still. She obviously understood something was very wrong.

Shandy watching over the farm from her perch on the porch.

It took me only seconds to get to him and he was already foaming at the mouth, fear in his eyes and in obvious pain. A quick glance and I saw his jaw and tooth were stuck on Shandy’s collar and metal ring which attaches the rabies tag. As Boomer struggled to free himself he was now pulling harder and harder on Shandy’s collar, digging it deep into her fur and tightening her pink camo collar into a macabre make-shift noose. Shandy, now getting choked and started to panic as well, beginning her own fight, the fight to breathe.

Between Boomer’s panicked and frantic efforts to pull himself free and Shandy’s frenzied fight to get air I had my hands full and couldn’t get them separated. I started screaming for help and Hubs came running. We were able to get them separated in minutes but it felt like hours. There didn’t appear to be any residual physical trauma to anyone from the ordeal but we were all left deeply shaken.

Afterward Hubs and I, although thoroughly rattled, were feeling incredibly grateful as we played the “what if” game…”What if we hadn’t been right next to them when it happened?” “What if we had been inside and hadn’t heard noise?” After all, neither one could bark and the whole event was remarkably quiet for as traumatic as it was. “What if they had been in their outdoor kennel and we weren’t home?” I truly believe if any of the above scenarios had happened we would have one, possibly two dead dogs. We were so incredibly lucky that this happened while we were literally a few feet away from them.

After decades of having dogs and using collars all the time, I am now a full convert and avid believer of no collars when they are home. I would much rather have a lost dog and be looking for them, than a dead dog. Please, please learn from my mistakes. Don’t let this happen to your fur babies.

Best friends forever.
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Goat Gremlins

Goat Gremlins

This is how it all started.

Last weekend I was trying to address the never ending tasks of cleaning the kitchen. Usually this feels like trying to stop a waterfall with a tea strainer . I mean, how do you clean something that is in constant use?

I digress, as I was saying, I was trying to clean the kitchen and came across a box of stale store bought donuts. I had bought them on a whim and we weren’t impressed. Which is both amazing (since I’m not the pickiest eater) and fantastic (since I’ve been unsuccessfully trying to diet). Anyway, I decided that the goats would probably enjoy these delicacies since they’re slightly less picky than I am.

I grabbed the donut box,  slipped on some shoes and headed out to the goat pasture. As I drew near the gate the goats all came running to see what gifts I came bearing. It took only a single taste from one of the gals before they all figured out I had something that something special that met with their approval. The herd swarmed the gate, pushing and yelling, trying to snatch the treats from my hands before anyone else could get any. I had wanted to evenly distribute the donuts and make sure they all received a share, but I quickly became preoccupied trying to keep track of my fingers and ensuring they didn’t get  snapped up by an overly enthusiastic and hungry  goat. All in all it I was feeling a bit too much like being in a Wal-Mart during a Black Friday sale. A mixture of exciting, kind of terrifying and wondering what I had gotten myself into.

All sweetness and innocence before the donuts.

During all this excitement, and while I was distracted with trying to keep track of the well being of my fingers, I failed to notice that the goats in their drunken, sugar fueled frenzy, were straining the industrial strength farm gate and latch. Without even a hint of remorse or warning the chain gave up any pretense of trying to keep the gate closed and it flew open and directly into me. Thankfully, I still had all my fingers and was able to catch the runaway gate before it caught me fully in the face. However, now I was stuck with a dilemma. There wasn’t enough intact chain to re-secure the gate and if I let go of the gate to go get more chain the goats would make a break for it. I yelled for Hubs….and yelled……and yelled….. Did I mention he’s a bit hard of hearing?

At this point, I recognized the seriousness of my situation. I was all that stood between the hangry goat herd and the lush, overgrown grass and more importantly, the brand new, baby grape leaves in our new vineyard. This was dire indeed.  I threw the rest of the donuts over the fence in hopes of placating the super sugar charged herd and prayed hard that Hubs would hear me. He eventually wandered outside and found me fighting to hold the gate closed. He grabbed some items out of the goat barn, rigged a temporary solution and hurried off to the shop to locate a more substantial chain and latch.

Now that I was relieved from gate duty, I wandered down to the vineyard to catch my breath and appreciate the fact that my precious grape vines had been saved. At least that was the plan, until I heard excited goats yelling what resembled a war cry. I looked up to find the goats had once again broken the temporary latch and were making a mad prison break from their pasture. I ran as fast as my slip on shoes would allow up the hill, shouting threats and obscenities all the way and managed to catch the gate before the entire herd had escaped. I found myself once again yelling for Hubs, and also yelling for the goats to stay away from the vineyard.  Hubs eventually returned and fixed the gate. We rounded up the escapees without too much drama and only minor pruning to the grape vines and secured the gate with a heavier duty chain and latch.

I wish I could say Boomer rounded the goats up during the jail break , but unfortunately he thought they had just come out to play.

The lesson to be learned here is this, much like you should never give a Mogwai water for fear of being overrun with Gremlins (if you don’t get this movie reference you really must watch Gremlins), you should never feed a goat donuts…..unless you have much better behaved goats than my heathens. Because in my case, just as the cute little Mogwai turn into scary gremlins, feeding donuts to my cute and cuddly goats turn them into super strong, sugar frenzied goat gremlins. Lesson learned. Sorry goats, no more donuts for you, from now on we’re in this diet thing together.

Anniversaries and the Farm Life

Anniversaries and the Farm Life

It’s our anniversary weekend and so like many people we’ve been making plans on how to pack the day full of things that we enjoy. For some people that may mean, fancy dinners and expensive gifts, but for us it means spending the day working on the farm. Yes, our anniversary sounds a lot like every other day on the farm, but I truly believe the best life is one you don’t need a vacation from. Our anniversary happened to fall on World Naked Gardening Day but we decided the best gift we could give ourselves (and our neighbors) was to bypass this celebration. So we dressed appropriately and headed out to enjoy our day.

Hubs managed to finish the repairs to the chicken coop courtyard. Last winter we had an unprecedented snowfall and after almost 40 inches in a few days the metal netting gave up the ghost. Since then the chickens have been complaining that they need a coop remodel and the regularly visiting raccoons have been echoing their sentiment, so it was a top priority.

While Hubs was busy working with our feathered friends, I was planting in the high tunnel. It was a beautiful sunny day and Hubs was commenting on how the breeze felt so good…..I of course, got to enjoy none of that inside the high tunnel. Instead I was roasting! It was at least 20 degrees hotter inside the high tunnel than outside and with no breeze to give me reprieve. It was tempting to go back on my agreement with Hubs and join the naked gardening followers, but I refrained. As much as I love playing in the dirt I was so glad when I finished up inside the tunnel. Then it was on to the next project.

The goats needed some pedicures so I headed off to trim goat hooves. Nothing like trimming feet while Berry the Buck blows rumen scented sweet nothings in my ear. During this time I discovered spring really had arrived….because I got my first, second and third mosquito bite of the year. *sigh* If any of you are long time followers of the page you’ll probably remember (because I whine about this every year mercilessly) that the mosquitos LOVE me. I’m usually covered in at least a dozen bites at any given time during spring and summer. I’ve also discovered that I apparently have particularly tasty elbows since the bites seem to be focused in that area. Over years of trying different things, the only one that has worked to reduce the itch and give me some relief is After Bite. I’ve learned to always have a tube or two of it handy.

We had just had 9 tons of 3 man rocks delivered to work on a landscape project and we were excited to pull out the tractor and get to work setting them in place. I know, I know, some of you may be asking yourself how this sounds like a fun anniversary but for years we have focused on making the farm livable (it was quite a mess when we got it) and also making it functional. We didn’t have the time, energy or money to make it pretty. It simply wasn’t an option. So to finally get to work on these optional projects felt like a treat.

We ended the evening with a homecooked meal and a glass of my favorite wine….and then we took turns rubbing each other’s back with this modern day version of dad’s old Ben Gay. Apparently we aren’t as young as we used to be, but all in all it was a fantastic day and we wouldn’t chose to spend it any other way.

*Note: some of you will notice that I have links to some of our favorite products. After spending years answering emails or Facebook messages asking me where I find the products I mentioned in my blog or posts I finally decided to try being an Amazon Affiliate. This lets me link right to the product and if you decide to buy from the link I get a little commission. Win-win. I hope this helps us both. Thanks! ~M

Disclosure: Fable Farms is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com.