Never Picnic on Yellow Lawn

There is still grave peril threatening my poultry. I glanced out of the office window this afternoon to see a dog fox on the grassy bank about 20 tiny feet from my lovely Brahma hens. And the reason I immediately recognised it for a dog fox and not a vixen?

The bugger was pissing up my shrub.

The audacity of it! Cocking its contumely bloody leg over my plant, before doubtless attempting to leave me henless. I nearly dropped my cup of coffee as I swelled with fury. A small shriek of indignation may well have escaped me. I galloped to the front door and erupted out of it like an enraged jack-in-the-box. I’d have booted him heavily up the arse if I could’ve got enough speed up, but I present a fair amount of surface-area wind-resistance these days, and I was therefore confined to roaring BANG! at the top of my voice. He took off like a rangy red ballistic missile heading for next door, and I suspect he will not be back to dine today.

There must be a local litter of cubs catalysing these daylight parental raids. I have no rancour towards the foxes themselves, as feeding your young is a fairly blameless occupation; I’d tackle a woolly mammoth sporting an extra helping of pointy tusk if it stood between me and my child’s starvation. But there’s any amount of other prey about at this time of year, so they can keep their damned dirty paws off my hens. Besides, there’s enough urine landing on that patch of grass to float a boat. Next door’s male labradors sprinkle everywhere conscientiously, our two dogs are both copious puddlers, and I know for a fact that when John lurches home from the pub full of beer and takes the dogs out for a bedtime pee, he sets them a good example himself in the long grass. The last thing we need is another bloody species joining in the fun.

Changing the subject radically, I went to the GP today to moan about the fact that my period has essentially lasted since the end of March. He blamed wild hormonal flux and promptly prescribed Norethisterone (Ahhh… hello again, ye initiator of IVF cycles!). He did ask whether I was still breastfeeding, to which I replied affirmative, so I’m puzzled to see that Dr Internet says they are mutually incompatible. I will have to ring him back tomorrow; if my breast milk goes bad then Harry will die of thirst: he regards all plastic teats with horror. The little man still isn’t any better: his congestion is becoming chronic and is thoroughly bringing the pair of us down. A 3rd tooth appeared over the weekend, and I hope that the imminent arrival of the 4th is all that caused tonight’s total meltdown. I am grimly expecting a long and interrupted night.

And to round off the day: I have just watched John despatch one of my geese, and it was most unpleasant. It has been on the cards for some time, as my previous bleating posts have chronicled, but my hand was finally forced today when the younger gander was savaged in the hut for the second night on the trot. We acquired our original breeding pair when Next Door’s gaggle had begun systematic executions of the young males, so I knew it was a choice between a quick death and a protracted one. Sigh. Why can’t everything just love each other?!

13 Responses

  1. NaComLeavMo

    I had a month-long period when my daughter was about 8 months old, and my GP was not the least bit interested about stopping it. I asked if there was a time at which I should become concerned, and the answer was an annoyed “no”. Let’s all bleed forever!!

  2. Exactly why I could never have a farm. I’d want everything to live in harmony and wouldn’t be able to dispatch with anyone.

  3. Bwahahahahaaa…little-known fact–poultry are bloody-minded critters. My pre-school class hatched a chick in an incubator and since I had chickens at home and lived within walking distance of school we let it go in the coop with my laying hens. They tore it to bits. Oooooh the therapy that day was probably responsible for! Ha ha. Yellow lawn indeed.

  4. Visiting from NaComLeavMo. Love your writing style. I have long periods as well. After having both my girls I bled for months. Doctors have never tried anything, even though I don’t push the issue at all. Probably should. Good luck with you!

  5. Hey! Thanks for stopping by my blog! I hear ya on the temperature-watching, it certainly gets old! 🙂 And yes, tomato juice and beer is most definitely the best thing ever. I promise! 🙂

  6. Boo on neverending periods– that sounds scary and I hope it goes away soon.

    And boo on pissing foxes! The cheek!

    9thanks for stopping by!)

  7. Via NaComLeavMo…
    I wonder why human males still need to mark territory in the same way as so many other males! Everytime I go out for a walk with a group of friends as soon as one man stops then all the rest have to!
    Love your blog btw!

  8. 1 – My Dad burnt a permanent bald patch into the lawn in front of the rose-bush, due to his general reluctance to haul hissen all the way upstairs during ad breaks in the evening. Yes. My Dad used to pee out of the living-room window. I am surprised my own manners have developed so acceptably.

    2 – The eternal period thing, oy vey, how I feel for you, and how very much stupid doctors annoy me by not being nearly concerned enough. I only got some GP worriedness when I became so anaemic I couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs without hyperventilating. Gah.

    3 – We killed (and ate, sorry) most of the young cockerels we had one long summer, because they kept nearly beating each other to mutilated death. We ended up with two, one very large and very docile and possibly a eunuch, who was clearly not a threat to the supremacy of the other one, a very small bantam of extreme ferocity, who used to dive-bomb whoever had come to feed him and his harem, claws and beak out. Drew my blood on numerous occasions, and was eventually batted into a tree by a neighbour armed with a wooden door panel (this was not deliberate, and the bantam deserved it). Poultry keeping is NOT for the faint-hearted.

    Thank you for your comment on Tuesday. It meant a lot to me.

  9. I do wish I could have seen the neighbour in bat!

  10. Love the way you write!
    Here from NCLM!

  11. WOW – that’s quite the group you have there! I’m enjoying your writing! Here from NCLM!

  12. […] April 29, 2009 Pullets & Bullets Posted by Hairy Farmer Family under Parenting No Comments  Half-way through Friday afternoon, I saw a flutter of feathers out of the corner of my eye, and glanced up to see a fox in my hen run. I am all about Economising on things these days, so I’ll re-use my phraseology from last May’s post. […]

  13. […] in the unhappy role of vermin. Foxes – who predate our fluffy baby lambs like anything, not to mention my poor hens – are controlled on our land (rather a royal ‘we’ there: it […]

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: