Eleanor 2011-2012

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Jordan's beloved Eleanor. She had a very short life and was with us less then 2 weeks.

Eleanor was surrounded by family (except for the boy who was watching cartoons) at the time of her unexpected passing, and Jordan took this loss very hard. Eleanor enjoyed riding around the house on Jordan's shoulder, and I think they were building a life long bond.

Her loving brother offered his sister some comforting words at this time of sorrow. During a commercial he turned to her and with his 7-years of wisdom said:
"Just Go Get Another"

The pet store we purchased Eleanor from informed us that at the time we purchased Eleanor, their rats had a respiratory infection.

Funeral services will be private and in the spring when the ground thaws out a bit.

Year Of The Snake

"Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them."
David Hume-1742

I think snakes are such beautiful creatures, and I personally equate their colors, textures, their movements to a fine piece of art.

Dante is a corn snake and came to live here a couple months ago and is doing great.
I have decided to put my foot down around here, and as long as Jeanne lets me put my foot down, I have decided to build a respectable collection of what I consider to be fine art. Corn, Milk, and King snakes are on my list of must have for my art gallery.

I never tire of sitting and watching Dante, and hope to someday find a nice female to breed to him. I think this would be an awesome project.

I can't help but think that if Leonard Lipton and Peter Yarrow wrote a tune about a Magic Snake, instead of a Magic Dragon named Puff, maybe snakes would be a little bit more revered instead of feared and hated by so many.

If only they had changed just a few words in their song.


Puff, the magic corn snake lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Little Jackie paper loved that rascal puff,
And brought him rats and fat plump mice and other tasty stuff. oh

Puff, the magic corn snake lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

OK, maybe not. Maybe sometimes I shouldn't think.

Peter, Paul and Mary -Puff The Magic Dragon

Eleanor's Christmas

If your ratty gets all scatty 'cos his coat is getting matty
And he's acting kinda batty now he doesn't look so natty
If he starts to get all chatty and to voice pratty demands
Then beware! You've got a bratty tatty ratty on your hands. Dr Suess

I first must add my disclaimer. .

I did not buy Eleanor.I did not sneak Eleanor into the house like I did with Norman the pig and several dozen other critters.

Yes maybe I gave Jordan a gift card to a local pet store, and yes maybe I said something about rats are much more intelligent compared to a Hamster."

And my finale piece of evidence, Jeanne was with us at the pet store when Jordan picked out Eleanor.

So if it pleases the court' "I did not bring home a pet rat."

I think this was a great choice that Jordan made, and if she works with Eleanor and trains her, she will learn something very special. She also might get a head start on a psychology project for College.

I posted a video below from Wofford College.
Psychology students spent a semester training their rats to play Basketball

Tommy went a different direction when he received a fish tank and gift card from Santa. He doesn't appreciate the intelligence and loyalty of a pet rat. He will let Jordan put Eleanor on his shoulder, but as soon as Eleanor moves, he will, with a very concerned for his own safety tone in his voice say, "OK GET IT OFF ME NOW" so he chose some gold fish and accessories for his tank.


I personally lobbied for a Corn Snake for Christmas. I should say I begged for a pet snake, and when that wasn't working I resorted to the fine art of sympathy with a dash of quilt.

This is how it works. With a big smile on my face, I would enthusiastically say to Tommy and Jordan,
"I know you guys got me a snake for Christmas, but you must have hid it very well, I hope it is warm enough wherever you hid him, I can hardly wait to see him on Christmas morning. what should we name him?"

I thought I out smarted them both and that the quilt would encourage them to bug Jeanne enough and I would get my new snake.

Never try to outsmart a fifth grader.

Jordan took some socks and made me a snake for Christmas.


Keeping with our Christmas morning tradition, before we could open presents, we ventured out to the river and emptied a fifty pound bag of corn for our friends.





Ventured stayed for the Annual Christmas Morning Feast, but left later in the day. We are thrilled when he visits and look forward to his return.

Happy Holidays To All

Rat Basketball at Wofford College

Home For The Holidays

"Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays
'Cause no matter how far away you roam
If you want to be happy in a million ways
For the holidays you can't beat home, sweet home"

You can not beat those words written by ROBERT ALLEN & AL STILLMAN.
How sad it must be for anyone not to have the desire to be Home with family and friends for the Holidays. How sad it must be to want to be Home but circumstances prohibit the joyous occasion.
I love being "Home Sweet Home".


I wondered if it could be true. I wondered if among this flock of Canada Geese did our beloved Venture really return home for the holidays?

This past fall I often thought of Venture our little Canada Goose we raised after being abandoned on Peg and Willie's driveway a few years back.
This past Spring Venture left home for the first time and started his own family, and from time to time he would bring his family back for a visit.

It is a dangerous world out there for a flock of Canada Geese and I worried when far off in the distance, perhaps as far as Eagleville Lake, I would hear the sound of shotguns blasting away, followed by the sounds of Geese taking flight. I often worried that Venture was among the targets.

This morning of Christmas Eve we received a awesome gift when Venture returned with his family and friends for the holidays.

One may think that it is impossible to identify one goose from another, but I am positive that this bird that led the way up the trail and onto our driveway was our friend Venture.


Welcome Home Venture, and remeber, no matter how far away you roam, you and your family are always welcome here.

It's All About The Language

It all has to start somewhere, and here instead of digging into an empty pocket to purchase a cord or five of firewood, we cut our own.

It feels that most of my spare time these days is spent cutting firewood for the wood stove. Providing a good portion of our own heat has some challenges, but for the most part it is extremely rewarding.

I get a strong sense of accomplishment from taking a downed tree and turning it into nice little chunks for the woodstove.
I think it is some type of manly thing. Maybe it has something to do with the fresh air, the lifting of muscle building heavy logs. Maybe it has something to do with feeling so powerful when you swing down that heavy steel maul and that piece of maple or cherry splits in half. Maybe it is some type of primitive adrenalin that might make me think something like " me man, me provide heat for house, you women, you cook squirrel stew on fire".

The good news is I am not and never been that dumb to utter something like that here. I am 99.9% sure the response would be something like, " me women, me boss, me move you to basement".

So I need to tell a little story here, because after a few days, or a few weeks, I found some humor in it.
It was a Saturday or Sunday and I was out by the driveway splitting firewood. Jeanne and the kids were outside doing something, I think maybe stringing the 2000 Christmas lights on the front porch.

After hauling some large logs from the nearby woods, I stacked them in a wall like pile near my spiting block. I pounded a old fence post deep into the ground to prevent my logs from rolling away while I took my time splitting them.
I was moving along at a very good pace when I bent down to pick up a log and slammed my forehead square into that fence post that some knucklehead pounded into the ground, exactly where I was going to bend down.

The pain was intense and thankfully it took my voice away. I never ever use language in front of the kids that they can not repeat anywhere they go.

I thought Jeanne was using a amplified bullhorn when she yelled what did you do are you ok, all I could do was keep one hand on my forehead because I was sure the last of the brain cells I had left were about drop into the muddy ground. My other hand stretched out toward the noise as if to say, "HALT DO NOT SPEAK TO ME". I was afraid if my mouth opened the burning pain shooting through my head would force me to scream out a long list of vulgar regrettable words.

Then Jordan yelled,"are you alright", again up goes my hand as if to say. "HALT DON"T COME NEAR ME BECAUSE I MIGHT BLAME YOU FOR SOMETHING YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH".

With much concern in thier voices, Jeanne and Jordan continued to ask me if I was ok and all I could do is raise my hand up and without saying anything, I was begging them to stop.

I was sure if I could only utter some of those special words, the pain might subside a bit, but I gathered up all the strength I could, and held onto my head while I staggered around waiting to pass out from this horrible pain.

Then it was Tommy's turn to show his deep concern, Tommy muttered, "you didn't focus".

And Then There Were Five

I have a few different theories, but because we are talking about a 20-30lb bird,that spends most of their time in the water, I am leaning away from a wild predator, and more toward a different type of predator.

With the help of Uncle Swamp the Swan, our 2 White geese hatched five fluffy little goslings this past Spring.Over the coarse of the Summer, they grew into a beautiful flock, and with Swamp leading the way, it was truly a very pretty sight watching them navigate the river.

Just before Thanksgiving 2 of our Geese disappeared and I believe it was the act of a despicable, poor excuse for a human. I can't blame this on hunters, because a "True" hunter has much higher ethics then this person or persons possess.

So now we are down to 5 White Geese, 11 grey geese, a Swan, and we cannot forget Wilbur.

Wilbur is a brother to our other geese, but because we hatched him in a incubator and raised him for the first few months in the house, he does not know he is a goose. Like Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer, all the other geese refuse to socialize with him and he only ventured out onto the river once, and did not appear to enjoy the experience.


Being rejected by his fellow geese has not prevented Wilbur from making his own unique friends.

Chances are good if you see Bob the turkey, you will find Wilbur. Bob and Wilbur have become the best of buds and whenever I call Bob, it is guaranteed that Wilbur will come a running with him. They both sleep in the hen house, and can often be seen going for a stroll up the road as they chat about current events.


Below is from this past spring when Moma and Papa Goose took the babies to the river for the first time.

Happy Geese.

Let It Be "Norman"

This most definitely is one of those,"did you ever in a million years imagine?"

I lost count on the number of times I could or did ask that question to Jeanne. Maybe it was when a goat was living in her mud room, or the snake I keep on her dresser on her side of the room, maybe it is the turkeys hatched in her dining room, or the geese and ducks swimming in her bathtub. It also could be said about living on a ark, that from time to time is surrounded by water.

I would venture to guess this is the granddaddy of them all.
"Did you ever in a million years, believe you would ever have a pet pig named Norman in your kitchen?"

Not only did I survive any wrath for bringing home a pet pig, I really think Jeanne is starting to bond with him.
I am not sure if we have a new issue or problem, but when I am at work or gone from our place any length of time, I think about how much I want to come home to see Norman.

We all came up with different names. Because we already have a goose named Wilbur, we couldn't have two Wilburs. So Jordan wanted Pumba or Babe, Tommy wanted Darth Vader, I wanted Norman, and Jeanne was quickly shot down when she suggested naming our beloved pig,"Christmas Dinner". Tommy made the finale choice, and he picked Norman.

Norman is free to roam the house, and as he gets acclimated to all the daily commotion, his personality is really starting to come out.

How could you not love that face?

So now I wonder, what would happen if Jeanne came home and found a Miniature Donkey or two in her living room?
I think I won't push my luck, yet.

Did I Say How Beautiful You Are?

I think that maybe there might be something like 200 million self-help books out there. Books about how to find a mate, how to keep a mate happy, how to marry a mate. You have books about finding yourself, and books about losing yourself.

You get advice about everything, should I wear boxers or briefs, should I take a shower more than once a week, what should I say on a first date, what shampoo should I use to drive my mate wild, never chew tobacco on a first date, never ever cheat, even if you have been married 100 years, find time to go on dates. And no matter how comfortable you are with someone, never clip your toe nails or floss at the dinner table.

The range of advice is endless, and most likely written by someone whose life is a total mess.

So I decided to add a bit of advice I hereby give any self help guru permission to use.

If you want to stay out of the doghouse with your wonderful, kind, understanding, supportive, beautiful, loving women, who you would walk thru fire for, NEVER EVER under any circumstances, let her come home from a hard day at the office, climb the stairs to the front porch and come face to face with the baby pot bellied pig you brought home.
Always, Always, tell your mate before you bring home a pet pig.


This little 6 month old Pig was giving to me by Melissa from Sterling CT. With her permission, we will more then likely come up with a new name for him. I just can't bring myself to call him Bacon. I personally like the name Norman, and if Jeanne is still speaking to me when she comes home from work, we will either name him as a family, or i will be sleeping in the basement with Norman.

Fox Being A Fox

Maybe he has not mastered the art of stealth. But our daily visits from Mr Fox has become some what entertaining.

The fact is, he is here to eat our chickens, and as long as he stays clear of our Turkeys, and Wilbur the Goose, I will allow the chase knowing that all I need to do is make my presence known and he will break off the chase.

I have no desire to take his life, and I might be able to look the other way when it comes to a few of our irritating roosters, but I do not want him killing any of our hens. But I do enjoy his daily visits, and I am a little worried about his injured leg.

&

The Next Home Improvement Star

Bob Villa, Norm Abrams, Holmes on Holmes, and "Tim The Tool Man Taylor", all got there start somewhere.

Splitting a gnarly, stubborn piece of cheery can at times become a ruthless challenge that can put the whole idea of cutting and splitting your own firewood in question.

I recently faced that battle with some extremely tough cheery that did not want to split. Every time I raised the maul up above my head and brought it down on some of that cherry, the maul would barely make a indentation. Each time I would hear in the back ground, "come on you can do it' "FOCUS" "FOCUS" "FOCUS". By now the muscles in my arms burned and he stopped me and started to explain what i was doing wrong and I should "FOCUS". So I focused, and with all the might I could muster up, I slammed that maul down on the exact spot he laid out for me, and it split.

I believe this went to his head and while I caught my breath, he went on to explain that I need to "FOCUS" on the spot I want to hit.

I decided to grab the camera, more because it would give me a reason to sit down, and told him to teach me about chainsaw/firewood safety.

Just to be clear, when the saw is running, he is many yards away. He maybe takes a little creative liberties with his training video, but I will say after the wood was split by me, he loaded all of it and drove it up to the house.


Ladies and Gentleman, Chainsaw Safety with the Boy.

Chainsaw Safety

The Perfect Tree

Sometimes a property, a place, or a road is defined by a tree.
There are many,Tall Oak Farms, Cedar Swamp Roads, Maple Streets, and Sycamore Lanes. Places like Aspen Acres, Twin Oak Cafe, Maple Leaf Farms and Connecticut's own, The Charter Oak all take their names from a tree.

I don't think that our majestic old Chestnut tree defined our place, but she was nearly as perfect as a tree can be. She had a flawless crown, fantastic branches for climbing, and the shade she provided in the summer was refreshing. She also lent out her sturdy branches for the kid's tire swing and rope swing.

Storm Alfred hit the state and hit it hard. I don't think I have any right to complain, because we did not lose power for a second, and with 800,000 folks with out power I felt a certain amount of guilt for staying warm and comfortable. We did reach out to everyone we knew without power and offered them a warm place to stay. Maybe if someone took us up on our offer, I would not feel like the guy hoarding chocolate bars while stranded in the wilderness with 5 other starving people.

Our old Chestnut took a hit during the night of Alfred. With a loud disturbing "SNAP", some of her stately branches were ripped off and fell to the ground completely surrounding her.

Gone is her perfect shape and crown. Gone is the kids tire swing. Gone is some of her refreshing summer shade.
But she should survive!

Katanga

Depending on which survey you read, there are between 10 and 18 million pet birds in the USA. The pet bird is 3rd behind dogs & cats.

I have had some very rewarding relationships, with some extraordinary birds in my life. It was about ten years ago that Katanga, a Blue Fronted Amazon parrot came to live with me. At the time I was told he was about 22 years old. My guess would be Katanga was a wild caught parrot who at one time new the sights and sounds of a far away South or Central American jungle.

I first saw Katanga's picture when he was put up for adoption through a wonderful organisation called, "The Connecticut Association for Avianculture", or CAFA. I would often look at his picture while I considered adding him to my life. I thought for sure he would be placed with a new family very fast, but week after week went by, and each time I was a little relieved, that no one offered to provide him with a permanent home. maybe I was being a bit selfish. Finally one day I decided to go for it and I started the adoption process.

When I arrived at the house of very kind women who was fostering Katanga, she led me to his room for our first meeting and the start of our life together. She explained to me that he was a screamer, and often would risk her fingers while attempting to feed him.
Anyone who has encountered an angry parrot knows that this could be extremely intimidating and painful.

She then proceeded to tell me a story that to this day could bring a tear to my eye. She told me about the day she picked up Katanga from a man who for one reason or another needed to part ways with him. Many times this is because a new girlfriend or boyfriend comes into the picture and parrots being very possessive, will often not want to tolerate this new person coming between them.

So she told me how this man handed her this beautiful bird and a bag of his toys and pretty much walked away. She told me how she could not understand how after all the years he spent with him, why was he so cold toward Katanga.

As she secured the cage holding this brilliant green bird she spotted the man in the door watching, and as she was about to drive away, she saw that the man was approaching the car. He came to the open window closest to Katanga, and with tears pouring down his face, he learned in and said, "I just need to say goodbye".

So 10 years ago I am driving home with this angry bird that attempted to attack this nice lady and everyone that went near his cage. All the way home I thought that perhaps I had just made a major mistake.
When I arrived at home I located my insurance card and prepared for a trip to the emergency room because I thought that I would be ripped to shreds, or he would sink his razor sharp beak into my flesh, stopping only when he hit bone.

Maybe I was a bit crazy or maybe deep down I like the sight of my own blood gushing from a artery, so I opened his cage and offered him my hand. I am not sure how to explain the sound of a happy Blue Fronted Amazon parrot, but the noise he was making was anything but threatening. he climbed onto my arm and stopped when he reached my shoulder and sort of let out a calm sound that might have meant, "I am Home".

There is no place Katanga would rather be the sitting on my shoulder, getting his head scratched and taking a nap. But he is so protective and possessive of me, if anyone comes near us, he will attack them and scream until my eardrums burst, but when we are alone, he is the sweetest creature, and my friend for life.

Notebooks, Pencils, Pens, & Snapping Turtles

Before school started we bought notebooks, erasers, backpacks, lunch boxes, paper, pencils, rulers, pens, binders,folders, new sneakers and clothes, and a briefcase type of organiser called a trapper.

Over the summer, Tommy received a very nice letter from his new teacher. It was a very sweet letter and in the letter she put out a request for a caterpillar of the Monarch Butterfly.

I thought no problem, for a mighty hunter-outdoorsman like me. Well a few days before school, we searched, and searched, and searched. We covered every stand of milkweed plants we could locate in town. I was so desperate for a Monarch Caterpillar, I found myself wading through thickets of poison ivy to reach some milkweed. Now what I thought would be an easy assignment for a old woodsman like me, turned into a humbling and complete failure. How could I not find a Monarch Caterpillar?

On the day before school, and just before nightfall washed away any hope of locating a Monarch Caterpillar, I carefully repeated my search of the few milkweed plants we have here in the field. I don't think I can possibly express the jubilation that shot through my entire body when I, at the last possible moment, found a Monarch Caterpillar.

I do not believe very many Monarch Caterpillars made it to school the first day, and I believe Tommy's caterpillar was the only one that completed its metamorphosis and was released into the wild. "He's off to Mexico" said the boy.

So not to be outdone by the boy, Jordan comes home from school on the first day and tells me she needs a baby snapping turtle for Social Studies class.

Why would you need a baby snapping turtle for Social Studies? I really thought this was some type of extremely cruel joke. I barely survived the special ops mission to locate and capture a caterpillar. How on earth will I come up with a baby snapping.

It has been my experience that a baby snapping turtle is something you stumble upon, you don't mount an all out expedition for something the size of a quarter. I would stand a better chance at locating a 20 pounder, but would I think, until the school develops a curriculum that includes, "How to attach a severed limb 101", the school may frown upon a classroom monster capable of removing a child's finger.

The Town of Mansfield has an awesome Public Woks Department, and has some really nice, kind hearted folks working hard for our town.

Recently I approached a group of guys working on our street cutting brush, and while they worked up a soaking sweat while battling the 36 inch mosquitoes we have down here, I mentioned that I was searching for a baby snapping turtle for Jordan's school project.

It was less then a week later when Glenn and Tory from the town showed up with 2 young snapping turtles, one of them the size of a quarter.

So to Glenn and Tory, THANK YOU!!! You made a kid feel very, very special when she was able to fulfill her teachers request, and you saved me he pain and agony of crawling though malaria filled swamps in a desperate attempt which would have resulted in failure and more weeks of therapy.

Snappy and Snapper will spend the Winter months as foreign exchange students, majoring in Social Studies, and return to the swamps in the spring.

All Nighter Woodstove

I paid $25 for a copy of The All Nighter Woodstove Installation Instructions. And because I believe in the brotherhood of the "All Nighter Woodstove Burners", (ANWB) I have have added a link here on our blog so that anyone who may need these documents for their building officials may copy them here free of charge.

I believe, but I am not sure, you might only need 2 pages out of the nine I loaded. My building official asked for none because he has inspected the All Nighter Woodstove so many times he knew what he was looking at.

The link is located in the right hand column near the bottom. Click the blue All Nighter Woodstove Installation Instructions and you should be good to go. I hope this works because it took me half a day to figure out how to do this.

Good Luck to all my fellow ANWB members and drop me a comment if this worked out for you.

PS. If this should work out well for you, consider dropping a $10 check or something to help out someone down on their luck.

Send To,

Covenant Soup Kitchen Inc
220 Valley St
Willimantic, CT 06226

Thanks and stay warm!

Early Morning Invasion

Jeanne may disagree with me concerning the events from last week, but right or wrong this is how I claim to remember how this all unfolded and sadly a good nights sleep was removed from my life.

It was the early morning hours when a black truck with dark tinted windows appeared through the thick fog in front of our house. As I peered out the window and attempted to focus my sleepy eyes on this mysterious black truck. The combination of thick fog and the minimal amount of daylight made it impossible to identify this frightening breach of our peace and solitude.

While the truck idled in front of our home, indicating they possibly planed a hurried departure, I could hear both doors open, and suddenly and quite to my surprise out jumped four intimidating Ninjas. Dressed in black from head to toe, including faces covered by a black silk cloth, they with great speed and precision emptied the contents of a cage located in the bed of the Ninja truck.

Because Jeanne would not go out and confront these Ninja fighters, I carefully got dressed and ventured out from the security of my closet.

Unfortunately by the time I was ready to approach these hooligans, they gunned the truck, and fled into the dense fog.

I searched the through the fog and soon located the cargo they were so eager to leave behind. I soon found that against my will, we have acquired 4 more noisy, irritating, roosters.

That is my story and I am sticking with it.

Now at 2:30 in the morning the rooster stereo surround sound begins. It only takes one to start the ruckus and they all join from the trees surrounding our house, including one white rooster that spends the night perched on a branch 6' from our bedroom window.

I never thought in a million years, I would hear Jeanne say, "can't the fox help us out here and take a rooster or five?"

On a personal note; To Earl, Jen, Dylan, and Gwen, if you should happen to hear the sound of a ear piercing chainsaw pumped through a bullhorn at 3 in the morning, All I can say is, "bummer."

First Time

I remember the first time I kissed a girl. I remember Max, my first dog. My 1972 VW bug was my first car. I remember my first shotgun that my father who never hunted, bought me for Christmas, I also remember watching it sink to the bottom of a lake after it fell out of my boat.
I remember feeling like a man when I bought my first wheelbarrow. I remember the first time I saw an alligator. I remember my first and every other heartbreak.
I remember my first home. I remember my first job paying $2.11 per hour. I even remember my first circular saw, and my first six dollar socket set from Kmart.

Today is a day of jubilant celebration, I now have successfully grown my very "FIRST" beautiful Moonflower. This morning glory like flower has eluded me for many years. I don't know why I have never had any luck with this awesome 6" white fragrant flower before. They are said to be extremely easy to grow, but I had given up many years ago. This year I decided to throw some seeds in the ground with my morning glories, never expecting I would be rewarded with such spectacular beauty.

Unlike the Morning Glory which blooms in the morning hours, the Moonflower opens up and releases its beauty in the evening so they can be pollinated by night-flying moths

Camera Or Gun

Jeannette S Ferguson writes in Gardening With Guineas,
"When a predator is spotted near the farm, whether it is on the ground or overhead, every person and every farm animal will know. the guinea fowl will alert all within hearing distance, making such a racket it can cause a dog to howl and people to hold their ears.

A couple of afternoons ago, the guinea alarm sounded, joined by chickens, turkeys, and geese, all sounding off with their version of the predator alarm. The ruckus was the unmistakable avian scream, "something is here to eat us".

As I ran for the window, I observed my guineas running straight at a fox which had a chicken in it's mouth and was attempting a getaway. I turned toward the door and thought to myself, camera or gun.

I chose camera. My way of thinking went something like this. The chicken was most likely dead or near death and I would be forced to dispatch it. So shooting the fox would not save the chicken. Ever since man has kept chickens, it has been the foxes job to steal one now and then. The fox was only doing what foxes are trained to do. I do feel really bad for the chicken, and this is exactly why I don't name my chickens anymore.

If I had chosen to shoot the fox, and it would have been a very easy kill, I know I would question myself for days whether or not it was truly necessary to end the foxes life simply for being a fox.

So the fox was granted a reprieve, and I do not need to experience the anguish for taking his life.
But! and this is a Big "BUT", If the fox choses to come after Bob or Hope, my turkeys, or if he comes near Wilbur my beloved goose, it will be a sad day, and it will be his last day.

The quineas appeared to charge forward in an attempt to chase off the intruder.

The Dude

The third largest land tortoise is the African Spurred Thighed, or also known as the Sulcata. According to "The Tortoise Trust", they can surpass 100 years and the record is 240lbs.

I obtained my first 2 Sulcatas approximately 15 years ago. Today Custard and Pudding are a couple of big boys at 30 and 35lbs.

I am very excited to announce the arrival of Dude, or I prefer "The Dude".

The Dude is a fabulous example of a Sulcata, and he came to us from Sharon and Paul, a couple of nice Folks from over in Rhode Island who did a outstanding job raising the Dude. They had many people interested in adopting Dude, and we are grateful they chose us. We will do our best to continue the outstanding care that The Dude is accustomed to.

If I would say we now have a heard of tortoises, I now know I would be wrong. To be correct, we now have a "Bale" or a "Creep" of tortoises.
No matter how you say it, we now have 3 very amorous boys, and maybe I should reconsider and find them some girlfriends.