A Bear Visits Sunstone

There are many black bears in the Catskills. And this year, in particular, it seems more and more people are having close encounters with their ursine neighbors. Our good friend Sue Ann, for example, just the other other day looked out the window and saw a large black bear in her backyard. She’d seen bear footprints over the years, but never one in the flesh. I’m told they have a 25 mile range, so perhaps the one she scared away with primal shrieks (her words) was the same one Jen caught with its paw in our chicken feeder a few days later.

The chicken feeder hangs just inside the door at the top of the ramp the chickens use to enter and exit the coop. Here’s a picture of Geraldine and Lulu doing just that:

Jen was coming back from a walk in the woods when she saw what she thought was our neighbor’s dog near the coop.(Our neighbor’s dog killed 13 of our chickens last year, but that’s another story). It was twilight, when everything looks a bit shadowy around the edges and is hard to distinguish. As she got closer, what came into focus was a large 300 pound black bear with its meaty arm thrust through the chicken door. The bear ran away when it saw Jen, and left us with a galvanized steel feeder that now looks like this:

Bears apparently make rounds which means it will be back for more feed if it’s available. So we removed the feeder from the coop which gives us till winter to pound it back into shape. Our hens free-range all day, eating insects, worms, grass, and other good things that make their eggs tasty with deep yellow yolks that stand nice and high like the ones you see in old cartoons. In the spring and summer, they go through very little feed. In fact, it’s probably consumed mostly by Frenchy, the resident rooster who spends the majority of his time ushering around his girls and calling their attention to bugs and other crawly things that chickens like. To make sure he, and anyone else who wants it, gets their fill, we’ve decided to put out a pan of scratch under the tool shed where the chickens take their dustbaths. We just need to remember to take it in at night.

By the way, if you’re wondering what I mean about cartoon eggs…

Goatie Girls Have Kids

Our two Alpine goats, Tosca and Desdemona (Desi), just had their kids. One each. Tosca threw a black and white doeling, and Desi, a very large white buckling. We named them Betty and George.

Neither Jen nor I had ever witnessed any kind of birth before, so we got on the Internet and spent many hours reading about goats and kidding and studying diagrams that showed proper presentation - head resting on two front hooves in a diving position - and those that showed what to do if one leg or even the head was bent backward or the rear hooves appeared first. Just in case, I memorized all of the diagrams and how to assist with a birth to correct an improper presentation. I really didn’t expect to have to do anything - nature would surely take its course - but I like to be prepared.

Desi went into labor on Thursday morning around 9am. We had our birthing kit ready: towels to dry the kid off, iodine in which to dip the kid’s cord, molasses water to give Desi after the birth and rubber gloves and a lubricant (just in case!). About 20 minutes after the mucus plug was discharged, we saw the first hoove appear, miraculousy clad in a little white dissolvable boot so it wouldn’t damage the birth canal (Nature never ceases to amaze me). Anxiously, we waited for the second hoove to appear. It never did. Instead the head was starting to push out. Sure enough, George’s other front leg was bent backward.

I snapped on my gloves, made sure they were lubed up and carefully entered Desi, sliding my hand underneath the kid searching for the other leg, while Jen held onto to Desi. I could see the diagram in my mind, but what I wasn’t prepared for was Desi’s bawling. It was horrible. My heart was pounding, but fortunately I was able to follow Jen’s calm voice directing me to slide my hand down along the kid’s body and locate the leg. I cupped my hand around the bent-back hoove and pulled gently. Once out, George’s body slipped out easily, and Desi relaxed.

Desi had a hard time of it, poor girl. But she had lots of babying and extra special herbs and compresses all weekend, and she’s doing great! Tosca went into labor three days later on Saturday morning. Betty presented normally and dove right out.

In hindsight, both Jen and I like the fact that the first kidding presented a problem that we had to deal with. The experience made us realize that, like many of the farmers that went before us, we are capable of handling crises that can arise in dealing with livestock without having to run to a vet. It’s amazing what you can do when you give yourselves permission.