Farm Friends and Foes

It has long been the practice of the farm critters we feed to run excitedly toward the fence when they see our small sedan drive up. Sometimes Howard honks the horn to get their attention, and they materialize from shed, pasture and pond like long-lost friends.

We are also visited regularly by a flock of renegade guineas which roam pasture and woods at will, then disappear like a grey cloud or magicians sleight of hand. My husband, who admires guineas tremendously and has a hunger to own some, has been trying to contain them in the barn lot where they endure the goat's ire to snatch kernels of corn he has scattered.

But the semi-wild guineas always keep a safe, invisible barrier between us and their flighty selves, never wanting very close contact with humans. Which is why I was flabbergasted today when we drove toward the barn lot. The usually wary fowl swarmed toward us, a puddle of grey spreading over the landscape like spilled asphalt.

"Look! They think we're their mother!" I exclaimed to my driver-husband. I could imagine this little silver-grey car floating bouncily down the slope toward them looking like a huge, grey, mother goose (ok, guinea)and provider of food! (I know that new-hatched ducklings and geese will bond with the first thing they see, be it human or goose flesh!)

They must be getting more tame, because although the goat rushed them repeatedly, tossing her horns and chasing them relentlessly, the guineas managed to dodge her thrusts and keep on eating her corn. I was even enlisted to stand by the shed door and be ready to close in any stray clackers, should they fall for my husband's ploy of scattered grain that led temptingly into confinement.

I was also drafted to go look for the goats earlier, as they had been nowhere to be seen when we first arrived. Unlocking the gate to the pen, I went through the back gate and onto the grassy hillside, calling for them. (How does one call a goat? "Here, goat-y," I yelled.) I was getting worried that they had disappeared, when I caught a glimpse of Mama Goat, running from the direction of the pond.

Then I couldn't believe my eyes, for bounding along like a frolicking kid (which she is) I saw the "baby" goat bouncing speedily behind her mother. This is the little goat who has been having trouble walking because of hoof problems! They had been trimmed by the vet, and again by my husband and son, while our grandson held her. Still, she lies around a lot. She must be better, I realized!

Duties (or Howard's labor of love) complete, we headed home, me refreshed from the fresh air and mild exercise, and my husband busily plotting ahead of buying cat food to bait a trap for catching a marauder that got in and stole a chicken the other night, with nothing left but a few feathers.

Who knows what tomorrow holds? God, of course, and He will enable us to handle it!