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I love animals but this week, I am at my wits end.  Usually, it’s just one that gives me a hard time (which I can handle) but for some reason, they’re all throwing their best at me.  Or should I say their worst?

As of now, we have yet to get our hands on Alice.  Not only is she incredibly clever, she’s like a little doe and has been leaping out whenever she feels like it.  I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to build a twenty food fence to keep her in and that might not even work.


The chickens have been doing the strangest things lately, like hiding in ducts and roosting in the mulberry tree at night instead of sleeping in the coop.  Turns out, the groundhog has been helping himself to the buffet of chicken food under cover of darkness.  I don’t blame the poultry for not wanting to sleep in their house when it’s broken into nightly.  To make it worse, someone most likely ate Jelly Bean since they are only slightly more safe than sitting ducks when roosting–she’s not one to wander and hasn’t been seen for a few days.  Though I acknowledge I cry at the drop of a hat nowadays, I shed a few genuine tears for that fluffy hen.  RIP Jelly Bean.


Dancer has discovered the electric fence isn’t on because it was sent away to be repaired and has since been systematically breaking insulators as she leans on the line to reach the furthest bit of vegetation.  She seriously thinks she’s starving.  Dancer knows she’s in trouble too because when I go in to halter and move her, she prances away, knowing I can’t run her down.  It’s frustrating knowing I can’t either.

Murphy hasn’t taken to being haltered like his mother and grandmother and still runs like a madman should anyone so much as look at him.  Claire got a tad too close last week and I jumped at him to stop him from clotheslining her and ended up breaking off one of his teeny horns.  I console myself with the fact that it was going to come off anyway since he’s been castrated but still felt awful.  He continues to look at me warily, like I’m going to run over and yank the other horn off.  I already said I was sorry!

The cats are doing a great job catching rodents but more than once have drug their little corpses onto the sidewalk, right where I step on them when I leave the house in the morning.  Once they were even inside the house but it was Jack who squashed it.  Barefoot. So gross.
And yesterday, the horse-shaped tire swing Jack made for the girls snapped (thankfully while no one was on it).  Even the inanimate animal-shaped objects are misbehaving.  Gah!
I love my animals but this week, I’m pretty sure I know how Noah must have felt once in a while.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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