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My other boys

Roosters. I swore I’d never have one. I promised the neighbors.

But this year I got it in my head to put some fertile eggs under a broody, knowing roosters were a possible outcome. And how.

The final result: twelve ‘fertile’ eggs resulting in three live chicks. Two of whom are cockerels.

The first six were duds. Then I got four more in a close-to-hatching state, of which only two hatched. I may have damaged the other two somehow getting them home, for which I feel rotten. So I got two more newly hatched from the lady I’d bought the eggs from, from the same clutch of eggs.

What I’m going to do with these two handsome boys, I do not know. It all depends on how they act when the testosterone takes hold.

We’ve started to hear faint and feeble cock-a-doodle-doos of a morning.

September 26, 2018 — 8:31 pm
Comments: 11

Brothers from a different mother

Can I get a d’awwwww? I took this picture a couple of minutes ago, and it’s a first.

We coaxed Jack into the same room as the baby, finally, about a month ago.

This was all made easier because Jack is an absolute pig and kitten food is fatty and delicious. We’ve tried to keep him off the food bowl, but he’s a crafty boy. And visibly fatter.

Then came the playfighting. Poor Jack. Kitten ran him ragged. But, hey — kitten food.

This started as a playfight and turned into a mutual nap. It’s adorbs.

Charlotte is at the other end of the house.

September 24, 2018 — 9:12 pm
Comments: 13

Look! Up in the rafters!

It’s a bat.

It’s a lousy cellphone photo of a bat, I admit, but I was trying not to scare him with the flash gun. The cleaning lady at work discovered him while dusting. He’s been there for two days now, apparently happy as a clam. A teeny, tiny wingéd clam.

Bats are protected here (there too, I think), so we had to call in a bat specialist, who advised us to turn off the lights, open the doors and windows and go away. On a Friday afternoon? I think I can manage that.

Have a good weekend, all!

September 21, 2018 — 7:30 pm
Comments: 19

This little scrap of feline DNA…

This little one showed not the slightest inclination to roam, right up until two hours ago when he made a dash for freedom. I just side-glanced a streak of black and white leaping over Charlotte and pounding up the garden path in the dark.

I think he would have come back, but every time I put his kitten glop out to lure him in, the other two made a grab for it. Adult cats love kitten food; it’s super rich.

I might be out there still, but Jack made a screaming lunge for the baby (taking him for an intruder) and drove him up a tree.

Phew. Running late. Hope you guys had an excellent weekend.

August 27, 2018 — 10:04 pm
Comments: 12

The exciting lamb races

All orphan lambs. The farmer said he went out early in the season when there was snow on the ground and found the first two newborns huddled next to their dead mother. Their hooves had frozen to the ground.

They’re okay now, obviously. Thus they were named after characters from Frozen. The one with the O is Olaf.

The winner, best two out of the three, was Gaston. Yes, I know that’s Beauty and the Beast. They ran out of Frozen.

August 23, 2018 — 9:49 pm
Comments: 4

The plain of bones

Ladies and gentlemen, the British Deer Society (I really wanted a BDS t-shirt, for reasons I didn’t care to explain to them).

The sign says something like “for display only — these deer were killed in traffic accidents or died of old age” or something like that.

I have to tell you, though — for an animal advocacy group, they displayed an awful lot of dead bits of their favorite ungulate. Including bits that were for sale.

I offered to buy Uncle B a deer-hoof door handle, but he inexplicably declined…

August 22, 2018 — 10:00 pm
Comments: 12

Let’s start the week with a little ass

From a country show we went to this weekend. He was three weeks old on Saturday.

August 20, 2018 — 9:06 pm
Comments: 8

Settling in nicely

Forgive bad cellphone pic; the phone doesn’t make a scary noise when it takes a snapshot.

We’re doing fine, fine. No hostility. I might get a gentle hiss and a little flinch first thing in the morning, but he soon turns into a cuddle-bug.

Likes: chicken, tuna, string, giant stinky dumps.
Dislikes: loud sounds and sudden movements.

I’ll keep you posted.

July 30, 2018 — 8:32 pm
Comments: 14

The exact moment I got bit…

Well, the exact moment after the exact moment I got bit. The next photo is me with a bloody thumb and puss looking radiantly innocent. To be fair, he wasn’t going for me (that time). I was feeding him off my fingers and he got confused.

Yes. We have a new cat. Maybe. Let me tell the story.

We were sitting in the livingroom last night, front door open, trying to catch a breeze and this…kitten walked in. Took one look at me, squeaked and ran off.

We called around, but none of the neighbors had a new cat. This is the country; sub-humans sometimes dump kittens or pregnant mothers. We set a squirrel trap baited with kitty glop and caught him about noon today.

He’s pretty feral. I let him out of the trap in the bathroom and he flipped out. Eventually I caught him and got bit and scratched and hissed at for my trouble. But he calmed right down when presented with food. Amazing how that works.

We took him to a local cat rescue this afternoon, where they pronounced him healthy and probably tameable. They loaned us a big cage and a tiny litter box and we’ll see.

A few may remember the Story of Charlotte, a tiny black and white feral kitten I trapped in a squirrel trap during a heat wave sixteen years ago. History really needn’t repeat itself so exactly.

She’s met him. She sniffed the box he was in, hissed at it twice and sauntered off. It’s all down to Jack. There’s something wrong with that boy and he flips his shit if another cat comes in the yard. I mean scary loses it. If he loses it over this kitten, there’s no option. We’ll have to find another option.

July 27, 2018 — 9:10 pm
Comments: 21

It is too hot to cat…

Not one of ours. We went to an open day at a cat sanctuary yesterday. Not the very posh one we like best — they hardly ever have an open day — but one that serves London and so is very well attended.

It was very hot (still!), so we saw a lot of loose, floppy cats. They were happy enough, though.

I had to pat Uncle B down afterwards to make sure there weren’t a couple in his pockets. Jack would probably cope, but Charlotte would murder him in his sleep.

July 23, 2018 — 8:38 pm
Comments: 10