Been so long……

Wow, it’s been ages since I’ve posted. Depression does this to ones’ soul I guess. Working, driving, filling the truck with gas, buying groceries, paying bills, these are all things I do because I have to; they are part of life though I don’t think of them as part of living. Writing, riding my motorcycle, looking through the viewfinder right before I take the picture, creating music, driving my FJ, watching the birds feed, the ducks land on the pond across the street, the snow fall, these kinds of things tell my I’m alive, they speak to my soul, my heart, my being.

I’ve read over my old blog entries today and I smiled, I wept, I felt, I lived. They are like photographs for me, they capture a time of real emotion, real feeling, of times when my soul was actively participating in the symphony in my head. I sit here now wondering where I’ve been over the time since I last posted. Tomorrow marks one week since I started an anti-anxiety med, the elephant on my chest is mostly gone, I’m sleeping again and having real dreams again instead of dreaming about work. Is the freedom to really dream a sign I am emotionally and spiritually awake again?

Chui – Our puppy.

As I watched our puppy choke last night my heart raced, I was filled with fear and dread. He’s less than 2 pounds; I’m 360 pounds and nearly 7 feet tall. How can something so small, so tiny have such a grasp on my heart, my soul? We’ve nearly lost him a couple of times before, he’s spent a night in an animal NICU. I have grown children, a 10 year old grandson. How is it that this little puppy has so stolen my heart? He finally managed to cough it up, his distress was over; for him the event was forgotten within minutes, for me it still echoes in my head. We ran him to the vet and had him checked out, she said he is fine. After we got home he sprawled out on my chest as he often does and worked on his favorite chewy. He would look up and lick my face, occasionally licking away my tears as I for a moment allowed myself to feel how much I love the little shit.

Perhaps this event is why I am alive again today, feeling, and writing instead of just living……  or maybe it’s just the drugs?

The circle of Life and Death

Today our six pullets (young chickens) were introduced to the side yard. They been in several cages as they have grown, today with some temporary fencing and netting a safe habitat in the side yard was setup. It took only a few seconds before they started scratching in the short grass and exploring the new environment.

As we were setting up the temp cage for them I needed to check the light in the coop, the wife had reported it was not working. She had tried a new bulb however it was still intermittent.  Using a flash light to see into the coop we found one of our existing grown chickens dead in the coop. She had been acting a bit funny the last few days. She had stopped laying some time ago and had lived out her remaining years free ranging with the other grow chickens in the side yard. I buried here under a large tree where her sisters have been buried over the years.

We didn’t start out to make pets of the chickens; however with time their personalities become know. Each is very different from the rest; each has her own way, her own favorite dust hole. Occasionally they make it up onto the back deck, we’ll be sitting watching TV and one, then another, then another chicken will pass the back sliding door as they look over the deck for any scrapes the dog may have missed. All I can say is ‘good luck’ as the one thing our old dog does well is get every last crumb. Heck, she watches the blue jays and squirrels hide peanuts in the yard, she then digs them up and eats them.

We’ve had as many as a dozen layers, now we are down to five old hens, all beyond their egg producing prime.

The pullets will add 5 hens and a rooster to the mix once we feel they are big enough to hold their own against Bertha, the head hen. I suspect a new pecking order will be established with the introduction of new blood and a rooster, we’ll have to wait and see.

One of the pullet hens seems to have splay feet; her feet don’t curl down, they curl out to the sides. Her feet are very symmetrical. She’s every bit as big as the two other hens of the same breed. Based on these two observations I’m convinced this is genetics and not a nutritional issue. She currently manages to roost; we’ll wait to see if she can once she’s full grown.

Today we saw the circle of life, the old die to make room for the young, it is as it’s always been and should always be. Personally living forever isn’t something I would wish on anyone.

Lucky the Parakeet

This afternoon the three ducks we keep in our garden were making their typical racket, each day for us is filled with various duck calls. The female in the groups makes it very well know she is hungry and wants some feed. We have the ducks to deal with the slug problem; living in the Pacific Northwest we have more than our share of slugs.

Early afternoon today the female duck started calling loudly, it was a mix of her “I want something” and “I’m distressed” calls. My wife went out to investigate. All three ducks had managed to get inside the small fence around the greenhouse at the center of the garden. The small fence is there to keep them out of the herbs and flowers. The female was calling for extraction from the hot zone, much like commandos might call for extraction after a raid.

As my wife worked to get the ducks on the right side of the fence she noticed two crows diving into a nearby bush; this caught her attention. In the bush a flash of color was seen that didn’t seem to fit, blue against the green of the bush.

In the bush was a blue male parakeet, both of his feet were gummed in tree sap. He was hanging by one leg upside down, his other foot covered in sap, unusable. My wife shushed the crows away and started to rescue the poor parakeet. Our chickens came to investigate and had to be locked in the run outside their coop. The little frightened parakeet fought back as my wife worked to free him, biting her several times.

Once she had him freed she noticed his wings were clipped, there was more tree sap on his tail. A quick phone call to the local vet provided my wife a game plan to remove the sap. The vet was afraid of the parakeet getting it inside his beak if he tried to remove the sap himself. A few minutes with Goo-Gone, a solvent used to remove label glue freed his feet. A foot soak in diluted vinegar neutralized the solvent. She picked the remaining spots of sap from his tail.

We have several cages on our property, a suitable cage was found, and perches installed, feeder and waterier bought.

The vet mentioned that if he was outdoors last night he will most likely die from pneumonia within a day.  There is nothing she can do to prevent this. Morning will tell if he will live or not.

I would guess by now you’ve figured out why he was quickly named Lucky, the ducks getting into the herb bed lead to his rescue. Hopefully his luck will hold out and he will live past tomorrow.

He’s spent the day in our bedroom, exploring his new cage. He’s played with the bell and even perched on my wife’s finger a few times. He seems healthy and happy so far. His feet seem fine. All toes work, he perches fine and moves around the cage like a pro.

We’ll watch the neighborhood for signs, the local paper for lost ads. We live in the country and are fairly isolated from our neighbors. The one neighbor we were able to contact reported no missing parakeets.

If he lives and isn’t claimed by his owners he’ll have a happy life here. For friends he’ll have three crazy ducks, a dozen chickens; half of which are old enough they no longer lay. We let them live out their senior years free ranging and enjoying cracked corn as a treat. Lucky will also need to get to know two rabbits, a dog and our cat. It’s a zoo but honestly we wouldn’t have it any other way.

A quick update – Lucky is doing well. He’s healthy and happy having joined our family.

Another update – Lucky has been with us for over a year now, he’s healthy, happy and noisy.