The Hen and Cat House

A cat protest is brewing. Two of the three of our cats are now officially outside cats. Wait, you ask . . . why not the third - that is not fair!?! Jazz cat is ancient, he only goes outside to go to the bathroom and occasionally sunbathe in the summer . . . other than that you can find him on his cat bed on the window sill.

SO let me back up a little bit. Our son was tested and is allergic to cats and dogs (among many other things) - go figure as we are the domestic animal capitol of Alna. The best thing we could do is get rid of them all . . . but that is not an option for us . . . . yet. So we are trying a few things before anything drastic has to happen. The dogs are kept downstairs in the house and outside whenever possible - even have an outdoor kennel for them now when we are not home.

My sister and mother suggested we make the kitties outdoor cats - build them a place in the hen house (which is pretty big as it was a former shed). I jumped on it after a tearful night of posting my kitties up for adoption on facebook. My husband is skeptical. He thinks it won't work in the winter. Who knows? He could be right. I asked him to just try it with the promise that if it gets extremely, bitterly below zero cold in the winter and the fleece blankets and heat lamp in the cat room are not enough . . . we can bring them in until it warms up.

I grew up on a farm with outdoor barn cats. I hated them being outside in the winter as a kid. But they had a huge barn full of hay and wool blankets. They were extremely healthy and friendly cats. And I was allergic to cats in my teens so the hair free house was nice. I never in a million years thought I would have outdoor cats. It has been a gut wrenching decision. Obviously my son's health comes first and ultimately if this doesn't work we will have to become animal free or narrow it down more. Right now we had to decide . . . give the cats away or keep them and have them live outside . . . hmmmm. Since it is summer it feels like the right decision - when winter comes will I still feel the same way? I don't know. Can I imagine them living with someone else? no . . .but time will tell me if this isn't working for the cats and then I'll have to step up to the plate to make them happy.

My Dad came over and helped build a cat room in the hen house (okay so he built it and I assisted with finding tools and pointing out where I wanted shelves and hunting for his pencil that he misplaced a zillion times - anytime I spend time with my Dad I am reminded that my forgetfulness clearly comes from him). I put 5 different fleece beds on different levels for them. We put the catdoor halfway up the wall with a shelf under it that connects to the other shelves. It has a shelf outside as well so they can hop down. We thought skunks wouldn't get in this way - they insanely love cat food. There is also a small door for us to go in. I have yet to add a plexiglass windown and paint it.

So back to the cat protest. Last night I put both cats in. Haley freaked and flew out the catdoor which I have propped open. Marley walked around and checked it all out and then left. Enough for one day. Tonight I put dry and wet food on the floor and shoved them both through the catdoor. Haley smelled the wet food right away, jumped down and ate - then left. Marley turned around and walked back out. I sat outside with them both in the yard and pet, rubbed, scratched and loved them as the dogs wrestled and chased each other. I then took a ton of catnip and covered all the beds, the shelves and catdoor with it. Also rubbed some on the shelf outside the catdoor. I ran an extension cord from the hens side and hung a light for them. I then waited. Marley smelled it and slowly came, went through the catdoor and into a bed. Haley smelled it and walked towards the shed, eyeing me the whole time. I stood up she turned to run. I called her and opened the catnip can - a sound she knows all too well. She came running, I held some out for her, picked her up and deposited her into the cat house. I shut the catdoor and left. Two hours later I went out and poked my head in. Neither cat was in there. I walked around to the catdoor and Marley was sitting on the shelf. I picked him up and carried him into the cat house. I sat on the floor and pet him. I talked to him and rubbed under his chin. He laid down and began to purr. Haley then poked her head into the catdoor. She stared at me, I talked to her and she looked around - taking it all in. She walked back out the catdoor and sat on the shelf. Marley then got up and also exited. Enough for one night. I'm satisfied knowing they know it is there if they want it. I'm also expecting some meowing and knocks on the bedroom window tonight.

Turkey Lurkeys

I stopped at Ames Supply to buy dog food and came home with a dozen baby turkeys. We already have a very large hen house for our guinea hens and all the necessary accessories to raise baby birds. What I didn't know because I didn't do any homework before buying these birds on a whim is they don't do well living with other birds. They are prone to blackhead disease - something they get from other birds crap, really. I will spare you the details except to say it is contagious and so far we have lost 4 birds to it and another one is on it's way out.

I love the turkeys. They are super friendly, they let me pet them and follow me around the yard. They sit on the deck by me when I have my coffee, eat mosquitos off my legs, peck at my rings and make little chirping noises. They make me laugh when they run - they remind me of some sort of Star Wars character. They run lopsided with their legs flailing out, but they run fast. They haven't truly learned to fly yet but they flap their wings when they run, legs flapping - sometimes getting a foot or so off the ground. When one does it they all start playing around in the yard, chirping and flapping. But 'cause they are so friendly and want to be around us, their crap is everywhere and it is much messier and bigger than the guineas. For some reason Boston wants to attack the turkeys. He leaves the guineas alone, but the turkeys would be dinner in a second for him. This has also presented a problem as Boston is a 9 month old puppy who still has to be watched in the yard. When the turkeys are out he cannot run loose - it has become a total pain in the ass. It's a waiting game at this point. In Jason's mind he's wondering if we will be having all the turkey dishes he has named Forest Gump style. In my mind I'm hoping one little buddy lives to sit on the deck and have coffee with.

embracing chaos

Our days usually entail at least one crazy chaotic moment at our homestead - I mean with my gracefulness, two little kids and all of our animals, stories just happen.

Our animals personality quirks are what make them fun and yes, sometimes annoying. But even the behavior that makes you gasp when you walk in the door after a long day at work with 12 bags of groceries and two whiney melting down kids is eventually funny and a good story. Ramsey dog is usually the main character in these stories (although Boston is swiftly gaining noteriety in his role as supporting actor). Ramsey Girl steals food off the shelves - such as 5lbs of flour or a tub of shortening - things you just can't sweep up. Riley sleeps in my flower garden, Boston chases the turkeys and gnaws on the window sill. They keep life interesting.

Recently the kids accidentally let Boston out who chased and caught a turkey, was wrestled to the ground by me- adding massive bruises to accompany the massive purple one on my ass from stopping short on my bike behind Juliet, not getting my feet out of the cages fast enough and falling over on the side of the road of downtown Hallowell. Quite fricken funny, really. The kids also recently discovered that Jazz Cat likes people food (okay I may have shown them) and feed him bits of their grilled cheese, crabcakes or pizza. Jazz caught on fast. We created a monster.

The story that prompted this blog happened this past weekend. It was hysterically funny. Probably one of those "you had to be there" moments but nevertheless worth mentioning.

Out of the corner of my eye a black thing jumped in the air, I heard the squeal and stared towards the door. Jason stopped in his tracks and turned to see what the noise was. Boston was jumping and spinning . . . then we saw his head and realized he wasn't playing. "HIS HEAD" I yelled. Jason darted towards him as Boston spun himself to the top of the entryway stairs with a giant blue Jolly Ball on his head, crashed into the metal water bowl and fumbled his way down the set of 4 brick stairs. He did not stop there and banged into the wall, jumping backwards, breathing heavy and squealing inside the ball. Jason talked to him and put his hands on him, he jumped back again hitting the table and chairs. Holding him down, he pulled the ball off to reveal the shear look of terror, the panting and staring at the giant blue ball that used to be one of his favorite toys - until he chewed a giant hole in it. Now he has a red one. And he's afraid of the water bowl.