Here we are on the third blog post and I already have to say it: Okay. New Plan. And it is all because we don't fence our animals. We fence our trees.The disadvantage of letting donkeys, goats, pigs, chickens, geese, or some combination of those and others wander around our entire property most of the time rather than confining them to tidy paddocks or grazing areas, is that it makes it pretty difficult to start young trees or grow a garden. Sure, they have over 14 acres of untouched woodland to explore and munch on, but the little apple tree that Dave just planted just plain tastes better. We figured all of that out rather quickly and made sure to wrap the bases of young trees with netting to prevent bark-stripping - and fence the youngest saplings entirely to preserve them. It is extra work and it is a bit unsightly, but we would rather do all of that than not give the critters the most room to roam with us every day. We fenced our house.We also installed a chain link fence around our house so that we could plant flowers and vegetable gardens that would not be turned into dust baths - and to keep the sidewalks free of poo. That has worked out pretty well for us over the last few years. We keep goslings and chicks grazing within the chainlink of our front yard when they are growing out, but send them outside once they are tall enough to reach the raised gardens.
Sending them out was a precautionary measure that I was sure we would never need as the geese have never shown any interest in our flowers or vegetable plants - preferring the bermuda grass and chickweed out in the open areas. I used the word 'never' far too many times in that sentence above. I should know better. And I'm sure you have already guessed that the next thing I am going to say is: Until now.
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I have always been fascinated by the study of animal behavior. As a matter of fact, behavioral science was my minor in college for a time. (Until I could not manage to pass organic chemistry. Three times. Consider that a closed door.) When I spend my days (and sometimes nights) here surrounded by and observing animals of all kinds - I am in my happy place. I love animals. I am an animal lover. However, I have noticed that I am not an animal lover in quite the same was as a lot of my animal-loving peers. You see, I love animals best when they are being animals. I am not, in fact, a robot. I do enjoy cuddly moments of human interaction with creatures. It's just that I especially love to be near animals when they are doing what is most natural for them. That may sound sort of crunchy and far-out groovy, but really it is practical. Animals behave better when they are behaving naturally. The clincher is figuring out what is natural for them -- and what is not. We often choose what is not good for us.Put down that Little Debbie snack cake and read that again: We often choose what is not good for us. You could blame it entirely on free will - a rather important thing that other animals lack as they depend on instinct alone. But you would be missing a key to the puzzle. In addition to free will, we humans also have instincts. Reaching for that Twinkie may be more instinctual than you think.
But wait! Twinkies are not natural! How could I have an instinctual drive to eat Twinkies? Why do chickens eat styrofoam when there is a bowl of fresh, organic, non-GMO chicken feed right there? Why does your goat stand out in the cold rain next to his shelter all day? There is a long and complicated answer to this question that is far too meaty for a mere blog post. However, it essentially comes down to one thing: Stress. On August 29, 2005, we changed. A similar observation has often been made by those who have experienced some singularly dramatic event. For instance, they may write: "On May 1, 2014, our lives changed forever." Though I can sympathize with such an observation, I have a slightly different experience. We changed in a fundamental way on that fateful day, but it took quite some time and a lot of concerted effort for our circumstances -- our lives -- to change.
On August 28th, you would have found us to be a pretty normal suburban family -- discounting the ritual of weekend preparation during hurricane season on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. My husband went to work in town every morning. I kept the lawn mowed in our postage-stamp sized yard. Our school-aged children attended the local private school. I handled the grocery shopping. We took our dogs to the groomer. We attended church on Sundays and helped out with local fundraisers and events. We drove children to soccer practice and music lessons. We ate a lot of junk food. We were entertained by the television. We managed to pay the bills and keep the house in good repair, but nothing more. |