Month: July 2013

My introduction to vaccinating animals did not begin in a vet’s office holding a dear pet. Rather, it occurred the year my father decided to build a new chicken coop and increase the flock of hens.

The spring and summer were normal. We purchased 600 chicks early in the season and did all the same things we’d done for 100 or 200 the year before. Just on a larger scale. While the laying hens (last year’s chicks) remained confined in the old building, my father built a new, larger coop, with a small room at one end intended for feed storage.

Late in the summer the laying hens sickened, one symptom being ugly scars forming on their combs. We called the vet. He diagnosed chicken pox. (I learned many years later the actual name was fowl pox.) Note to all non-farm people: sick chickens lay fewer eggs, sale of their eggs was the reason to raise them, the idea was to make a profit.

The preventative measure was to vaccinate the young birds. This involved catching them twice – once in their outside pen and roosts, and again in the small room of the new coop. This is a chore that must begin after dusk. You want the chickens to be settled for the night. Now, they were away from the other buildings at this point, away from our one yard/security light.

My parents, one brother, and I caught, carried, caught again, and handled chickens for hours. The needle, with an end like a small two-tined fork, held a small bubble of vaccine and mother inserted it near the base of a wing while dad held the bird. My brother and I caught and passed the animals to dad as the increased numbers of vaccinated chickens explored their new home around us.

At the end of it all, dad looked at the sky and walked to the barn for morning milking. Me? I think I went to the house for a nap.

Every farm needs a few cats.

They are like a good, multi-purpose accessory. They provide picturesque atmosphere. They entertain children – small and large. And when left to roam the farm at will — all important rodent control.

We had a compact farm, small dairy herd, and only a few cats at a time.  The milk cows received a ration of ground grain morning and evening. In this old-fashioned barn, a metal barrel stood in the corner and we’d dump one or two burlap sacks of feed into it, then dispense it with a small pail, some to each animal.

One day my brother dumped a sack of feed into the barrel and exposed a mouse. We thought fast and scooped up a half-grown kitten, not an adult hunter. It was a face off for the first several seconds. The mouse had no escape. The kitten was intrigued by this animal, very similar to lunch brought in by mother.

An extended paw. A small pounce. A skill learned. We lifted the cat, with dinner firm in her jaws, out of the metal barrel.

Every farm needs a few cats. Out in the barn. Catching mice.

Go to the Starr Tree Farm page of this web site for information on my August 5 release from Crimson Romance.