Spring Potluck on a Farm

I am just going to warn you now -- the title of this post is deceiving!

If you click through, thinking you'd be reading about a lovely dinner on the farm made with fresh Spring veggies, well.....you might want to click out now!

How soon I forget what Spring means to a farm cat!

And, to our Farm Manager, to be more specific!

This gal must have thought she was at an all you can eat buffet this week.

And don't get me wrong, I need the rodent control. I couldn't imagine if she didn't hold up that end of the job!

But, the other night, she had a nice 'display', shall we say, lined up along our sidewalk to the barn. I have never seen so many 'entree's' all at once. I decided she must have scheduled a Potluck for all the area strays, to commence at dusk. Clearly I wasn't on the invite.



And since baby bunnies are not on my list of things I wish to consume, that was a-ok with me!

***

This post linked at Farm Photo Friday



Farm Manager is Grounded!

Allow me to fill you in on my last 2 days. I guess it was getting pretty dull around here with no chaotic tales from the farm. So, let me change that for you right.now!

Wednesday morning we discovered that somehow [please don't ask] my husband locked every key we have for our back garage, in the garage!! At 6:30 in the morning, this is not a welcoming revelation. Especially when one of those key rings included his car keys and the garage houses the horse feed. Let me also preface by saying the security light post that provides us light in this area - at 6:30am - had/has a burned out bulb. All my husband could say, amongst a slew of other profanities was, "We're lame - just lame", in reference to the fact that the light post bulb was still burnt out and we had no more spare keys hiding under a rock.

After attempting to pick the door lock in every fashion possible...credit cards, crow bars and the likes, nothing worked. So, hubby had the pull the trim off around the door - something we really didn't want to have to do. After about a half hour, he still couldn't get in. I believe it was now approaching 7am, and still pitch black outside. He had to move onto the little window...and pull the trim off of it. And then push out the plexi-glass. At least it wasn't your regular glass window. Then he crawled through it. Amen. He was in. And now we have a busted out window (that he had to board up before he left for work so we didn't come home to an empty garage!) and torn down trim. I must say, it could probably pass for a set on the Beverly Hillbillies if you also take into account Apollo's sliding window/door that he tore slats off of in a state of boredom.

Now, we move to the evening. We are home from work and I am in the barn cleaning stalls. I noticed Savannah laying in the hay. I then notice Savannah laying in the hay, motionless, as the horses walk all over. Usually she'd find a new spot to chill. So upon closer inspection, I notice she looks half dead and has blood marks on here. I call Allen into the barn and he attempts to pick her up. She makes the most god awful noises. Clearly, she was in a fight with something and, at that point, we thought she lost the battle. We got her into the garage in better light and she was moaning in pain at any touch. Her eyes were barely open and it looked like maybe she had a broken leg :/

There was no where we could get her that night so we made her as comfortable as possible, tucked her into her winter cabana house and then laid awake all night with anxiety. In the morning, she seemed about the same, but it did look like she ate some food. I made a call to my vet to try and get her in and of course they could only see her in the middle of the day when neither myself or hubby could get off work. We made the decision to try and get her seen at another vet who was open late, on a whim walking in, once we got home. I agonized, as did Allen, all day about what would happen to her and if we'd have to make the hard decision to put her down depending what the verdict was. I was so sick all day of hearing everyone say things about how she is 'just the barn cat' and that's what you have to do. If she was 'just the barn cat', I wouldn't have even given her a second look when I saw her laying in the hay. But those of you who have been reading my blog long enough know that Allen & I are huge animal advocates with soft hearts and Savannah is not just a barn cat. She is 'the farm manager'! She is Allen's 'right-hand man' whenever he is outside. She guards our farm better than any 200 pound guard dog. She is not just a barn cat.

I made arrangements for the babe to stay with my mom since I wasn't sure what would happen when I got home. I quickly fed and walked the dogs and threw the horses their hay. Then I said a prayer, took a deep breath, and went in to check on Savannah. I was praying I didn't find her worse off than when I left her in the morning. And of course, I walked in to the tough Savannah I know - purring, stretching and sauntering around (with a limp, of course!) waiting to be let outside.

THAT DAMN CAT!!

I was in tears half the day thinking she was going to die!! How dare she!! Allen came home shortly after and came running to the garage asking me if she was dead! I gave him a 'fake' sad face and let him look for himself :) And she ran, limping, right up to him weaving herself around his legs.

So, we did as thorough of a check-over on her as we could. She had no open wounds so the blood on her must have been from her opponent. She had nothing stuck in the paw she was limping on and her eyes were bright and alert. But, she is grounded for the winter. No more gallivanting around until Spring time. My nerves can't handle another episode like this!!

The Farm Manager, Savannah

October 2012

Another 'Savannah-sode'

Savannah-sode ..... it is an episode involving Savannah!

Last week I had not one, but two lovely posts that involved her and her lovely hunting skills.

Today, I bring you another 'Savannah-sode'. This week, it is titled, Hunting the Chipmunk!

The past few days, we've noticed Savannah hanging out in the front yard in a wooded area. Hubby then discovered she was taking up camp next to a chipmunk hole. I didn't believe it was seriously an animal hole that she was literally, patiently stalking. So I looked for myself. And I'll be darned if she wasn't seriously, waiting patiently, at a chipmunk hole!

So Saturday, my niece came over. As her and her mom (Hi, Kristy!), were standing in the back yard talking with hubby, Savannah came running by with the Chipmunk in her mouth! According to hubby, the faces on my niece and sister-in-law were priceless. (good thing they didn't witness a bunny episode)

Savannah dropped the chipmunk and it promptly ran under the lilac bush - just as the bunny had. However, the chipmunks advantage was that it was able to climb all the way up the bush and hang on [for dear life] to the highest point of the top branch. It was a pitiful sight to see; I am surprised the 'munk didn't have a stroke. He was shaking so badly the whole branch was shaking. I felt bad for it and my niece kept asking me to do something to help it. I wish I could have. Savannah continued to patiently wait at the bottom of the bush.

Eventually, Savannah got bored, the chipmunk came down, and just when I am sure he thought the coast was clear, the stray orange tabby that has been coming around (we now call him Felix), pounced from the bushes. My niece started screaming, my husband tried to intervene and somehow, that 'munk got away! I only hoped it ran back to its hole to warn the rest of the 'munks and promptly find a new place to live.

No.Such.Luck. This morning, as I was getting ready for work, I look out the window to hear hubby yelling "Savannah....VANNA...leave it alone". You guessed it. The poor chipmunk was back for another round of 'cat & mouse'. *Sigh* I can't fell bad for it when it didn't learn the firs time!

Beware the Farm Manager

One of the many 'joys' of living on a farm is 'happening upon' the 'trophies' Savannah, the Farm Manager, leaves for us. Usually, she likes to leave them along the sidewalk from the back patio to the barn. If we are really lucky, she leaves them right on the patio :/

Sometimes we witness her 'in the act'. At first, I felt bad for the mice she'd catch. Then I started to not feel so bad when I found the holes they were chewing in our walk-in apple cooler, or the poo piles they were leaving in the garage. Or when they'd give me a heart attack popping out from hay bales.

Occasionally, she catches a bird - all I can say is, "Circle of Life, right?" (like last week, when I was woken up in the middle of the night to her screaming outside our bedroom window, only to find 3 [dead] baby birds on the sidewalk in the morning.)

So yesterday, as I was making dinner, I looked out the kitchen window and saw Savannah running up from the orchard. I could tell she had something [hanging from her mouth]. I assumed it was a field mouse. She usually nabs them from under apples trees. Side note.....field mice can kill our apple trees by nawing on the bottom of the trunk :/ As she got closer, I realized something was seriously dangling out of her mouth - ugh. A BABY BUNNY :(

Seriously Savannah? Ok, I know. Circle of Life. But I do.not.need to see this :/ I felt so dang bad for that baby bunny! And of course, when she got to the sidewalk, she drop it and it hopped a few feet away from her. She sat there - stalking it. I felt so bad for it. I had to look away. I had to get the chicken fingers in the oven.

When I looked back out, I didn't see the bunny. Did it get away? Then I noticed her 'stalking' underneath the Lilac bush. Dang, it must have went under there. THEN I noticed 'Garfield', a stray, orange cat that Savannah occasionally let's stop by for some food, coming over. He took command at the feed dish and Savannah stalked them both; Garfield and the bunny. Ain't no one allowed on her turf without her 'ok'!

So, I went on with making dinner, sat down to eat and no sooner do I bite into a chicken finger and I hear a hiss, squeal, scream, hissing and more hissing. I jump up, look out the window (why, seriously, why did I even look?) and I see Garfield now with the baby bunny in HIS mouth and Savannah ready to gouge out his eyeballs. Then, he ran off, with baby bunny in tow. And Savannah went and sat under hubby's truck pouting.

I called Allen to recap everything I had just witnessed. His response "Awww, poor Vanna. She worked hard for that bunny!"

SERIOUSLY!?!

R.I.P. Baby Bunny - and hopefully the rest of your family got a clue and booked a motel at a neighboring farm!

*No photos were included with this post for obvious reasons ;)