Charlie, our beloved Black Copper Marans, seems to have injured herself. She’s walking a little funny, she’s listing a little to one side, but the good news is that each day she seems to get a little better (which is why I’m going for a sprain-type injury and not an illness.)
Last night, I lifted her into the coop area and wondered if she’d be able to get on a roost for the night. When I checked in on her just a little later, she was standing on top of the nesting boxes. Okay so there’s my answer, no roost for her right now. That’s okay, she’ll still be comfortable where she is.
Even though it was dusk, the babies were reluctant to go into the coop. I had to gather them one by one and place them inside myself. Kids, you know?
When I put one of the youngin’s into the coop, I heard (it was too dark to see) Charlie in the back, pushing the wood shavings around her to make a nice nest.
I stuck my head inside the coop, “Goodnight sweetheart,” I said to her. “Hope you feel better in the morning”
That’s when Charlie emerged from inside the nesting box. Only Charlie wasn’t Charlie. Charlie was a skunk.
That’s not Charlie
You know in movies when people are frightened and they run with their hands over their heads – and you think to yourself, “that’s so fake, no one runs like that!”?
I’m here to tell you that in actuality people (I) do run like that when they’re (I’m) trying to get away from a skunk.
They (I) also squeal loudly enough for the kids to come outside to see what mom’s up to now.
We all stood around the coop while the skunk looked at us. Our dog, Pippin had already been hit by a skunk a few weeks earlier and we had no desire to get this one angry while it was inside the coop (talk about skunked eggs!)
I thought about getting a rake – nope too much danger of making it mad.
Hmm, think. I decided to put my brilliant Plan B into action. I stood off to the side of the coop and started yelling at the skunk.
“Hey you, get out of our coop! It’s time to go home! Get!!!”
Now I’m not sure that technique would work for everyone, but it did (thankfully) work for us. The skunk turned tail (in a manner of speaking) and hightailed it (sorry, couldn’t help it) out of there.
The good news is that we now know where the breach in the fencing is.
The even better news is that we are filling the hole with gravel as we speak.
Crisis averted.
I resumed getting the rest of the babies inside the coop and when I stuck my head in again, I saw that Charlie had made it to an upper roost.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” I said to her. “Hope you feel better in the morning”
****
Regarding earrings –
It has finally occurred to me that with all the things I need to be concerned about, why I have such the incredible focus on earrings, of all things. The simple answer is this – if I obsess about earrings, then I can’t obsess about bears.
So thanks to all the people in New Hampshire who have made enough earrings for this to be a many-day decision.
Yesterday I found a pair of New Hampshire made earrings to wear on our Border to Border walk. They are artsy, lightweight, sterling silver, hand wrought, and made by a local goldsmith. I wore them all day with no inflammation reaction, yeah!
Here they are:
And here is a link to Thomas Kuhner’s web page. From his website he describes his work:
“Each piece is carefully hand-wrought in precious metals of 14k gold, sterling silver, gold overlay or 14k gold over sterling by using the traditional, centuries-old methods of the metalsmithing trade. The metals are forged, chased or peened, then polished to a high shine; many are embellished with luminous precious and semi-precious stones and lustrous freshwater pearls.”
Thomas works out of Sanborton, NH and that’s one of the towns we will be walking through. I hope to be able to stop in, say “hi”, and thank him for solving my (very difficult) earring dilemma.
Now back to those bears.
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Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
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