Spring Is Here

 It's been a while since I wrote anything about the Spring Rock Menagerie.  I just haven't felt like writing since the loss of my two gorgeous pups.  It's time to move on and get back to letting you all know what is happening here.

The three cats, Tristan, Ambrosia and Nefertiti are all well and enjoying life now that the weather is warming up.  Don't get me wrong, they enjoyed life during winter, but rarely left the immediate vicinity of the heater or their snuggle beds in the bathroom.  Tristan is going down rabbit holes again and returning home at night with his ears full of rabbit fleas.  Rabbit fleas are more like ticks than fleas in that they burrow in to his ears (they don't go to any other part of his body) and Graeme and I are able to remove them all by using tweezers.

The ferrets are well and enjoying their new hammock I made for them.  It's a hard life when you wear out your hammock.  They too are enjoying warmer weather and sunbathe - either in their hammock on lying on their sleeping bag on the cage floor.  I've pulled back the weather protection so the sun can get in and the ferrets are in heaven.  Life for them in the house is much as it always is - sleeping in their inside cage each night and having a run around the house after Graeme has left it, honouring the Graeme/Ferret Treaty of 2003.

Hedwig and Hermes, the galahs are getting into the whole Spring is the time for love mood and galah hormones are strong in the air.   They build and rebuild their nest on an almost daily basis.  It's never up to Hedwig's high standards so it's pulled apart despite Hermes' protests and work in begun once more.  Hedwig has taken a severe dislike to my pink garden clogs and attacks them every time I go in to feed them.  She still loves the rest of me so I think she thinks the clogs are another female galah come to steal her mate from her.

We've had some major drama in the chook pen.  A fox visited late one night last week.  Thankfully I was awake and went out to deal with the matter.  I couldn't see because I didn't think to take a torch with me in my mad dash for the chookpen, but Graeme, the more clear thinking of the two of us, arrived with not one, but two torches for us shortly after I scared the fox off.  The fox had caught one of the girls but she was only injured.  I placed her in the nesting box for the night and checked her out in the light of day.  I think she'll make it.  She's the boss hen and loves to sit on my lap when I feed the chooks.  From that vantage point she lords it over the lesser hens while she nibbles on whatever offering I've brought the chooks that day.

Once the chooks were calmed down that night, I lectured the girls on the advisability of sleeping in the protected nesting box instead of over near the gate but sadly one of the girls didn't listen and the fox came back later that night.  He/she dug under the gate (the only unreinforced area of the chookpen) and grabbed the hen who liked to sleep there.  We've now placed bricks under the gate opening and the fox can no longer find a way in through there.  We know this because he/she came back the next night with thoughts of another easy chook dinner on its mind and after scratching around trying to dig under the bricks, gave up and went off to find some other sort of dinner.

I take advantage of the milder weather most days and let the chooks out for a scratch around the yard.  I sit on my garden seat under the old apricot tree and guard my gardens from marauding chooks in search of worms. I place the injured hen near my seat on the best bit of chickweed and she and I pass the time of day while the other girls and Eros forage for treats.  Eros, ever the protector of his girls, never eats a tasty treat he finds.  He makes a little "brook, brook" noise and the girls come running from all points of the compass to devour whatever it is he's found for them to devour. 

Spring also means our Blue Wren family are out and about.  This morning was the first time I've seen the new crop of babies out and about with mum and dad.  Three babies were hopping around under the protective eyes of both parents this morning, tasting the delights of the mulch heap, the spring grasses and generally enjoying life out and about on a fine Spring morning.

I never have my camera with me when I see the Blue Wren or his family so I've turned to Google to find some photos of other Blue Wrens for you all.

Male Blue Wren
 http://www.listeningearth.com/blog/what-is-in-a-song-birdsong-slowed-down

Female Blue Wren (should I call her a Blue Wren when she's not blue?)   
https://open.abc.net.au/projects/snapped-your-best-66ol2em/contributions/blue-wren-hen-65cs1kg

We first met the male Blue Wren a few years back when he moved into our garden.  The first year he seemed to be all by himself.  We didn't see any signs of little brown mates for him.  The next Spring we noticed he had a mate and before long a family to show off to us.  He adopted us as his family that first year and now most mornings he arrives at the kitchen window to say hello.  He taps on the window and flutter about while we exchanged morning news.  If he doesn't find us at the kitchen window he'd fly to the lounge room or family room windows to check on our whereabouts.  It drives the cats mad.  Only the male is brave enough to come close while we are near the windows.  One year his son seemed to be building up confidence to come look at us too, but once his blue colours came in he left the area in search of his own mate I suppose.

The little male follows Graeme around the farm yard near the house and just likes to know what's going on.  If I am out in the garden and near the wormwood bush they call home he and his mate take up spots on the lilac shrubs where they can see what I'm doing.  The male is brave enough to get quite close, but his more timid mate fusses and worries so much he soon returns to her.

He's a good husband and father.  I've noticed that each morning he flies out of the wormwood and lands on our tall potted jade plant in the front garden.  He sits at the top and waits.  Next his mate appears and flies down to the garden and has breakfast while the little boy stands guard.  When she's finished and returned to the wormwood and her babies, the male Blue Wren then has his breakfast.

Last year there was a minor skirmish for the ownership of the wormwood bush.  It seems to be a prime piece of real estate as far as small birds are concerned.  It's very dense and covers a large area of our front fence, so whoever owns the title deeds to the bush has a commanding view of the front garden.  A Willy Wag Tail moved in and tried to take over the ownership of the wormwood.  At first the little male stood up to him all by himself and I was worried he was outgunned.  The Wag Tail was a larger bird and the Blue Wren looked to be fighting above his weight.  I was just about to go out there and explain the rights of ownership to the Wag Tail when the Blue Wren's family came out of the bush and lined up on the fence against the Wag Tail.  It was a short, noisy battle after that and the Wag Tail conceded defeat and went off in search of an easier won home.  There are other wormwood bushes in the garden so I wasn't worried about him finding shelter elsewhere.

 

Willy Wag Tail   
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Rhipidura_leucophrys_-Canberra,_Australia-8.jpg  

 Spring is a great time of year at Spring Rock. The canola is in flower, my garden is starting to look more like a garden and less like a wasteland and my menagerie goes a little do-lally with the warmer weather and spring induced hormones.

So Sad

It's been four weeks now and this post is still difficult to write.

Four weeks ago both my beautiful dogs died.  I can't go into the details without bursting into tears again - it's enough to say they are gone and my heart is broken.

I miss my beautiful girls and still find going out the back door difficult.  It feels empty on the back porch without my dogs to greet me and wait somewhat impatiently for me to give them pats and/or belly rubs.  Visiting the toilet unaccompanied hasn't happened to me since we moved here sixteen and a half years ago.  Now I just feel lonely while I'm in there.  I no longer like to wander around my garden because I don't have my furry entourage with me, making suggestions for improvements (usually the need for more holes they'd be happy to dig for me) and smelling all the interesting smells.  

I miss their antics and their beautiful faces.  The look Athena would give me when she thought I'd lost the plot (usually when I tried to get her to fetch a ball or rowsed on her for some misdemeanour).  I miss Demeter's frenetic personality - always on the go and always into mischief.  I even miss the mess she'd create in the laundry each night if I forgot to hide the toilet paper before we went to bed.  The laundry floor stays clean and tidy and I hate it.  The dog blankets are clean and folded, sitting on top of the dryer - a constant reminder that they aren't in use anymore to provide a bed for tired dogs.  I wish I had room to store them out of sight.

I've put everything of the dogs' I can out of sight, but occasionally I'll come across a chewed bone or toy that was hidden away.  I can't bare to go near their little treasure troves where they stored any treat or plastic object they'd stolen.  They thought their treasure troves were such a secret and were always suprised when I went straight to them when looking for a lost item.  They'd rush after me and then fuss around their beloved possessions while trying to deny any responsibility for whatever I found there.  Our shoes always ended up there while both dogs assumed an air of innocence and denied all knowledge of how they'd got there.

They were so young and had so much potential.  They were already wonderful pets and time would only improve them even more.  They tried their best to please despite their tendency to break the rules.  When they did they were always very sorry.

I just want them back.

A Tale From My Childhood

I was admiring my teapot collection with my family when most of them visited on Mothers' Day last Sunday and my newest daughter in law Savannah hadn't met my prize possession in the collection - my snail teapot.  I told her I had a real love of snails when I was young and my mother bought this teapot, a creamer, sugar bowl and salt and pepper set, although only the snail teapot survived. I used to keep snails as "pets", putting grass and leaves in a cardboard box and collecting snails from the ever abundant source of the agapanthas hedge at the side of the house.  I'd often leave the top open so they had plenty of air or close part of the box up, but every morning my pets had scampered back to the agapanthas hoping like anything they'd be undisturbed from now on.  If they had any sense they would have moved to the very back of the plants where my little arms couldn't reach, but who knows if snails have any sense.  Savannah hadn't heard about this childhood love of snails so I realised she wouldn't have heard about my associated childhood sins where snails were concerned.  I thought I'd share the story with you too.

My grandfather was a prisoner of war during World War II and due to poor hygiene at the prison camp, later had to have his legs amputated.  He had one leg for a while and used crutches to get about. Although I was too young to clearly remember him at this stage very vague memories exist, but they are like old silent movie snippets - silent, grainy, short and disjointed.  He lived with us and was a keen gardener as much as his abilities allowed.  One of the things he could do was crush my beloved snails with his crutches.  As I say, I don't remember him or the following story.  I was regaled with it regularly in later years by my mother, who didn't get on well with my grandfather when he lived with us.  I sometimes think she bought the snail set more as a memento of my poor grandfather's torment by a snail loving granddaughter.

As the story goes my grandfather went on one of his snail eradication programs one morning, killing a number of poor innocent snails.  Whether I protested at the time is lost in history, but I can't imagine I just stood there and let it happen.  I was as great an animal lover from early childhood as I am today and I'm sure I would have tried to protect the beleaguered snails.  I do have a very faint memory of standing by my grandfather, who towered over me leaning on his crutches.  My little hands are on my hips and we are in the front yard near the bountiful agapanthus.  I am looking way up at him and having my say as he looks down at me. What was said between us is a mystery, but I was clearly not happy.  As my mother told the story, I was more than not happy and decided to take what revenge I could.

I must have been an enterprising little thing.  While my grandfather was sleeping I sneaked into his bedroom and stole his crutches left lying on the floor in easy reach.  I then hid them somewhere very clever for a small child, because no-one could find them.  I, of course, was the only likely suspect, and caved under interrogation.  The crutches were returned and my grandfather resumed his snail eradication program.

I obviously then settled down to give the problem some thought and the solution I came up with was diabolical.  I imagine my thought process went like this - my grandfather killed snails because he didn't understand what innocent creatures they were, not to mention what great pets they made.  How to get him and snails together on a social basis rather than a murdering one was probably a big stumbling block for me.  My solution?  The story that has come down through history is that I made my usual collection of a box full of snails, marched into my grandfather's bedroom when no-one was looking and filled his bed with snails.  I carefully pulled up the sheets and let things develop on their own accord.

My grandfather's reaction and subsequent retribution against me (and I'm sure there was some punishment attached just as there must have been after the crutches incident), are also lost to history.  My mother tended to gloss over that part of the story.  The punishment must have been effective though.  There are no further stories of my grandfather being harassed by one very small, very determined granddaughter.

Of course, soon after these events, my poor grandfather had his second leg amputated so his snail crushing days were over and I was left to fill my boxes with snails.  They were of course free to return to their lush green home in the agapanthus and make many more little snails for my future enjoyment.

Many years later I discovered my mother in law teaching a very young Rebecca to step on any snail she found.  I protested that we didn't kill snails.  My mother in law looked exasperated and said, "Well someone has to teach her!"  I decided not to argue - my mother in law wasn't the sort of woman where you could win an argument anyway, but once we got home I simply told Rebecca that snails had the right to live to and WE didn't kill snails in our family.  Rebecca nodded wisely and eschewed any further snail carnage.

The salt and pepper snails we used to have.  These ones are at http://www.sandyshores.net/

The lost creamer and sugar bowls also found at http://www.sandyshores.net/

Happy Birthday Athena

Last Thursday Athena turned one year old.  I made a big fuss of her, gave her a couple of extra Smackos (Athena and Demeter are seriously addicted to chicken Smackos) while singing Happy Birthday to her.  I know I'm no singer but Athena actually stopped eating to look at me.  She cocked her head to one side, lifted her ears and gave me a look that asked what I thought I was doing.  I offered another piece of Smackos as I finished the song and Athena decided her priority was scarfing down the treat no the dreadful noise I was making while feeding it to her.

Today is set aside for bath day.  Actually each day this week has been set aside as bath day and I've chickened out.  Athena has been swimming a number of times a day every day for a while now and her coat is looking less than pristine.  She upped the anti yesterday by rolling in something dreadful.  She took Demeter along with her, but Demeter seems to have only paddled around the edges (most likely with Athena rolling in it there wasn't enough room for her too), so Demeter is also scheduled for a bath. 

No photos I'm sorry.  I can't get the photo part of Blogger to work at the moment.  The page just won't load.

A Puppy Update

I've had a few people write and ask me for an update of the pups.  They are both doing well and quickly finding there own special places in the family and in my heart.

Athena and Demeter are the best of friends. Seeing the two dogs roaming around the back yard looks quite comical considering the size difference.  Athena lopes along at a normal St Bernard pace and Demeter scampers along at a very non normal Border Collie pup pace, but has not trouble keeping up.  She does seem to need more sleep than Athena though and I wonder whether it's not all because she is so much younger and her faster pace in life has something to do with it.

 Athena is very concerned about the size difference and is very careful not to hurt Demeter.  This has resulted in Demeter taking unfair advantage and we often have to rescue Athena from the tiny pup.  It seems Athena has very tasty ears and it has to be said, a temptingly large area of  them.  She is so patient with Demeter.  A few days ago I was in the kitchen watching them through the window as they played.  Demeter was trying to jump up to attack Athena's ears as usual.  She was getting frustrated with not being able to reach.  While I stood at the window and watched, Athena lowered her front end, in the classic downward dog yoga pose, to get down to Demeter's level so the game could continue.  It quickly turned into a wrestling match with Athena lying on her back while the little black and white ball of energy attacked various parts of her body.  At one stage Demeter attached herself to Athena's ear and Athena couldn't do anything to dislodge the pup. She tried moving her head from side to side, but Demeter hung on tightly.  Athena tried batting the pup off and despite the huge paw brushing at her gently, Demeter continued to hang on tightly. Of course there was lots Athena could do if she lost her temper or hurt Demeter but Athena never has so far.  I tapped on the kitchen window until Demeter realised she'd be in trouble if she didn't let go of Athena's ear.  I'm pretty sure she was hurting Athena, because when they got back to their game Athena wouldn't bend down to Demeter's height again, although she was happy to keep playing as long as her ears were a safe distance from sharp puppy teeth.  Still, the little episode didn't damage the friendship at all.

They are a force to be reckoned with in the back yard and are always extremely excited when I go outside.  I spend quite a while fending off bouncing puppies and leaning St Bernards before I can move a few feet away from the house. I am always escorted wherever I want to go outside.  If I manage to sneak out without them seeing me, there is a mad scramble to get to me as quickly as possible once they notice I'm outside.  It's nice to be loved.  

Both girls continue to steal boots and anything made of plastic including my gardening clogs.  Thankfully they have the three treasure trove spots in the garden and it's usually a matter of checking these out to find the missing items. Strangely, Graeme's work boots rate their own, fourth spot in the yard, well hidden among a little bushy area in the corner of the front garden. Boots they don't chew thankfully, just steal and drool on.   I've had one pair of gardening clogs ruined and the second pair (bought to replace the first) severely chewed.  We try to keep them up out of reach but old habits on our part die hard.  We are used to being able to leave our shoes on the bottom of the shoe rack and have them remain there unmolested.  This is no longer the case.  Plastic on the other hand is destroyed if we don't rescue it quickly enough.  The kitchen hand broom is the latest casualty.  Graeme used it outside on the porch when moving the back door for our kitchen renovations.  He turned around and couldn't find the hand broom anywhere.  I found it up near the chook pen.  Suffice to say I've put a new hand broom on the shopping list. 

Athena has taught Demeter the joys of swimming in the dam.  It's usually just a wade out until Athena's tummy gets wet, but that relatively shallow depth is a full on swim for Demeter to keep up with her much larger best friend.  Most mornings I am greeted by two thoroughly wet and happy pups.  Now remember what I said about how glad they are when I go outside?  Add that exuberance to the muddiness and sogginess of the pups in the early morning and you can see that mornings are fraught with problems.  Our toilet is in the laundry outside the back door so there's no avoiding the muddy paws first thing in the morning.  


Yesterday Athena and Demeter seemed to spend most of the day in dam.  It wasn't a particularly warm day and actually rained from time to time, so what the attraction was I can't tell you.  It seemed every time I saw the girls yesterday they were happy and soggy, wanting to share the wetness with me.  Demeter went one better than Athena at one stage.  It looks like they came out of the dam in a particularly silty area.  Athena's huge feet were coated in grey, slimy dam silt.  Demeter on the other hand was covered from the tips of her paws to the top of her tummy in the slimy, mucky stuff and she couldn't have been happier.  She had the hide to rush up to me, yucky tail wagging furiously, and throw herself down at my feet, exposing the disgustingly filthy tummy and requested a tummy rub. I told her there was no way that was happening despite her hopeful looks and furiously wagging tail.  Demeter couldn't believe that her cuteness didn't outweigh the yuckiness, but no amount of cuteness, and there was plenty of that, would have had me touch that tummy!
 
I'm going to have to try and get some photos to share with you all.  Photo taking is difficult to almost impossible because as soon as they see me they stop doing whatever it is I want to photograph and come over to bounce or lean all over me.  I don't seem to be able to sneak up on them.  They must be constantly on the watch for one of us to come out and play with them.  I will persevere though, so stand by for some less than pristine, but extremely happy pup photos in the future.

Introducing Demeter

I have been trying to convince Graeme we need a second dog ever since our lovely Dione succumbed to old age shortly after Christmas.  Graeme has of course resisted.  A few days ago he mentioned going away for a few days and I pointed out either Athena would have to come with us or she'd need a friend to keep her company.  After just a little thought Graeme opted for the Get Athena A Friend option.  I threw myself into action before he could change his mind and searched the agricultural newspaper for Border Collie pups.

I have wanted a working dog for myself when I help in the sheep yards.  With my back injury I'm severely limited in how much I can help, but with a four legged assistant I should find it a much easier and less painful job.

Yesterday I rang the dog owners from the first ad I found but all four male long haired Border Collies were sold. I looked in the Rural and found another lot of Border Collies - these ones smooth coated. They had two females and four males for sale and were in Wagga. Yesterday was the best day for the owners for us to go see them so we headed off straight after lunch.  After a short discussion before we left we decided there were more advantages to a female pup than a male pup.  Females, in our experience, tend to be a bit more sensible.


Choosing between the two cute female pups was difficult but eventually one pup seemed to show a bit more independence and interest in her surroundings.  The owner told us she also had the best voice (important when working sheep) so she was our choice.  I apologised to the other pup for slighting her and told her I hope she found a good home with someone else (earning a strange look from the owner).

We are now the proud owners of Demeter (Greek goddess of crops and harvest - very appropriate huh?). She and Athena made instant friends. Demeter was glad to see another dog and Athena has wanted a doggy friend ever since Dione died. Demeter has no problems with being followed around by a giant puppy and Athena is besotted and gob smacked that dogs come in such small packages. She met a whippet yesterday when the people came to buy a ram and thought that was on the small size for a dog, but Demeter is tiny!

Speaking of the whippet - the poor little girl got a grass seed in her side a while back. She's had five operations to remove it as it travelled under her skin. She now has to see a specialist vet at Charles Sturt University Veterinary School because the seed germinated inside her and she has multiple lumps and infections in her little body. She looks healthy and happy, but of course the germinated seed has to be located by ultrasound and removed. Her owner told me the total surgery bill (counting the previous operations) will come to over $2,000.00.

It's been 15 years since I've had a tiny pup and that was Dione and Juno who had their mum with them all through their growing years. It's ages since I've had to look after a sad little pup who misses its mother, but Athena is doing a good job in keeping Demeter company and making her happier to be here. Last night they curled up on Athena's rug together and slept the night away without so much as a whimper from Demeter.

Taking photos was an adventure in itself. Then getting the two dogs to smile at the camera at the same time took me back to my kindergarten teaching days. So photo quality isn't great. Anyway ... presenting Demeter Small aged nine weeks (that collar was the smallest size we could buy without insulting her by buying a cat collar).

Update On Athena

 Athena loves her new home.  She's settled in and established two treasure troves in the yard.  These are where she keeps things that are good to chew, like old ice cream containers, chew toys I've bought her and  and is where we go first to find out missing shoes.  One treasure trove includes and entire pelvis of one of our long dead sheep so it's clear Athena has big ambitions for her treasure troves.

I've tried to keep them a secret but Athena discovered one of our dams on Saturday. 


 
















Of course once you've had a good swim in the muddy dam water the
thing to do is roll in the dirt to seal the water in.

Such a happy face.