Podgelets All Grown Up

The Podgelets have grown up so fast. They will be ten weeks old this Friday. All the boys have gone to their new homes, with quite a few tears from me at each parting.

Both the girls are still here. The little black girl has been named Duma by her owner, which apparently means Cheetah in Swahili. Her new owner will take her home when he returns from Africa in a fortnight's time. So, I've pencilled 'More Tears' in the diary for that day.

Fraggle is already showing her smart but naughty streak. She loves attention and with four brothers and sisters competing for it, she felt she needed to gain some advantage. So, she learned to climb the kennel wire and be the first to greet you, a good foot higher than her siblings -

The scary thing is, she can climb down, too. 

I'm wondering now if I shouldn't change her name. Does anyone know the Swahili word for 'monkey'?

Is it a Chirkey then?

My hen turkeys couldn't wait for Trevor to arrive so they made do with sitting on some chicken eggs. I left them to have a go. After helping with this morning's pheasant hatch (3,900 chicks), I came home to find one more chick had hatched - a Buff Orpington chick - and turkey hen was the new mom.

They seem to understand each other's peeps and chirruping noises. The chick is robust enough, and mom seems careful not to tread on it. If the chick is well-mothered and survives, chalk another one up for interspecies bonding.

I have a second turkey hen sat on four eggs -

Well, technically, she's sat on a blind chicken that's sat on four eggs but the 'Mom Sandwich' (pat pending) is keeping the eggs warm and the hens happy, so again I'll let it play out. Nature always knows better than me.

Stag Party

It's 2nd June and I'm still watching what was supposed to be our 2012 holiday dinners wandering about the place. Our three hen turkeys got a free pass based on personality (I never met the goose we ate for Christmas). Person-ability and the fact that they have consistently laid turkey eggs, which turn out to be delicious and sell for a premium, made them a good addition to our poultry stock.

When spring came they started acting weird (from a non-turkey perspective) - laying down and hissing. If you'd walked close by a turkey hen, she would instantly "decompress", and arch her neck. This was the best poultry party trick ever. When people stopped by I would insist they come and see the turkeys that I'd trained to lie down like a dog. I'd walk close to a turkey hen, put out my hand and give the command "Lie Down Turkey!".

I wish I had photos of the looks on people's faces.

When no one was around, I'd walk up to a turkey and say "The power of Christ compels you!" a la The Exorcist movie, and then giggle like crazy when they flopped down. If I had those myotonic (fainting) goats I would never get any work done at all.

It seemed that this squatting was in preparation for mating, but we were short a stag turkey. Underkeeper Ian went to the poultry auction this morning and purchased one for the princely sum of £5 (plus 75 pence buyer's fee).

Meet Trevor -

Trevor is a large Norfolk Black stag turkey. I don't know his age, or anything about his background. For a fiver, he was worth taking a chance on.

Trevor rode home loose in the back of Ian's Land Rover, with an old camouflage coat for a bed. When I placed him on the lawn next to a hen turkey and he immediately started showing off -

And the hen's response? She just walked off to sit under a hedge. Who knew turkeys could be so fickle? 

I'm sure Trevor will settle in. He's only been here for an hour and he's already introducing himself to the others in the garden. The pups seem impressed with him.

"That's the biggest chicken I've ever seen...."

Most of the Buff Orpington hens are sitting on small clutches of eggs, and one turkey has commandeered a clutch of chicken eggs for herself. I'll leave them all broody for now. I'm expecting my annual delivery of 30 day-old meat chicken chicks when I return from Spain. I plan to divide them between these hens. It saves me rearing them under a light and gives the chicks a healthier, less stressful start on life. 

The rest of the flock is happy simply to enjoy the sunshine and free-range amenities. 

Hardening Off

Every gardener knows the feeling that comes in spring. A few days of good weather early on, and we get to wondering "Can I plant those less hardy flowers and vegetables, or is it too soon?" All gardeners are optimists and we wish so hard that one weekend of hot, sunny, dry weather is a portent, an indicator that it will continue for the next several months uninterrupted (except for the overnight rain showers watering the garden, of course). We've all sacrificed geraniums and cucumber plants because of hope.

Of course we can put our plants out during the day and give them protection at night, or from freak bad weather that's not in keeping with our mental picture of continuous sunshine. Here, we call this gradual exposure to discomfort "hardening off". It toughens the cells of the plant which would otherwise be soft, lush and green from sugars and water. Being soft and sweet leaves plants vulnerable to weather, to aphid attacks, fungal diseases, what have you. A soft plant quickly becomes a dead plant. (Or, if you want to sound really fancy, you can say it's suffering from chronic necrosis.)

French beans, very much alive for now

It's not just plants that have to harden off around here. As long as it's dry, the Podgelets have been going outside in their puppy pen when the thermometer reads 10 degrees plus. The lambs stay out in the rain and cold now, with hedges and full bellies of milk to ward off chilling.

Tails ringed, ear tags in

The horses no longer get rugs put on them; they have to bear the transition into spring with a thin winter coat. Though they can put themselves in draught-free stables, they rarely do and accept the wind and rain on their backs as long as they can keep their heads down and eat the new shoots of spring grass.

Already recovered

Being cold causes warm fleece to grow, or increases appetite. Being wet ups the oil production to waterproof fur. It's all a trade-off: enduring some adversity to gain some strength. I think the same process happens with people, but on a psychological level instead of a physiological one. Heck, if the ability to grow hair was a strengthener against fear or anxiety, I would be an emotional Sampson (though I would resemble a Sasquatch).

Ram lamb's recovery more of a drama, as he had other bits ringed!

I hate inflicting any kind of stress or pain on my animals: docking tails, tagging ears, administering shots or horrible-tasting worming solutions. I try and keep in mind this concept of hardening off when a lamb struggles in my arms or a puppy shakes its head after a mouthful of worm paste. It's going to help you endure I remind them. And myself.

A pair of Podgelets do muscle resistance training with my riding boot

Podgelets On The Go

Spring Lambing Finale

Finale makes it sounds exciting, but spring lambing was a quiet, easy time with just two ewes in lamb. L845 gave birth at sunrise to twin ewe lambs.

I performed my midwifery duties: iodine on the navel, a jab in the tiny thigh muscle against diseases, and a quick "mouth and eyes" health check. The ewe is an experienced mother but I've penned them together for a few hours, as the babies are still new to their jobs: staying close and suckling.

That puts our flock number at 30. I started a few years ago with 3 orphan ewes. The fold is now tenfold.

Our autumn lambing starts again this September. Half the flock went to the ram. This time next year I will be grading and selecting ewe lambs to keep and, if all goes well, I will have surplus ewe lambs to sell.

Lucky, Grumpy's lamb, is still alive. In fact, he's thriving. I caught him pronking and leaping about in the paddock yesterday. There's no better sign of health than that demonstration of surplus energy. In a few days when the twins are a bit stronger, he'll have some playmates.

Podgelets Al Fresco

The rain passed through, and the sun has come out. It's a balmy 15 degrees in Dorset. It's time to set up an outdoor playpen for the podgelets to take advantage of a few hours of spring weather. They are quickly outgrowing their maternity crate.

I dismantled a spare kennel run and set it up on the grass.

The podgelets still can't see very well and they are like little Roombas, bumping into the sides of the mesh pen, backing up, and turning around to waddle in the other direction. They wag their tails now, and bat each other with a raised paw in an attempt to instigate play. And they pee a lot.

Podge has rejoined us for our long morning walks. The pups can stand an hour or two without her, and she enjoys a break rummaging in the woods with the other dogs.

We have working homes for all the puppies now. It was easy to place them. The podgelets will stay with mum until at least 8 weeks old, except for Mike's little brown and white girl who he's christened Fraggle. She's home already. Fraggle starts her training this summer, and potentially her working career in the 2014 shoot season.

They grow up so fast.