Sue Stein - Amuck: Tales From a Hobby Farm

To my friend, Connie Anderson

Sue Stein

Dragonstone Press

Amuck: Tales From a Hobby Farm

Copyright 2016 by Sue Stein

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced

in any manner whatsoever without written permission

from the publisher except in the case of brief

quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Library of Congress: 2015920078

Cover photo Prahtnek Dreamstime.com

Loco the llama Pat Haley, Prairie Lake Farm

All other photos Sue Stein

Dragonstone Press

www.dragonstonepress.com

To my friend, Connie Anderson

Table of Contents

That I emerged relatively unscathed from all the various (mis)adventures at my hobby farm with my sanity more or less intact is a testament to the help of my neighbors, John and Diane, and my friends, Connie Anderson and Tom Collopy. After each new traumatic happening, I fired off frantic emails to Connie and Tom, usually beginning with some variation of the words, You will never believe what just happened...

Connie commiserated with me, although I suspect she laughed when she read each email. Tom, ever pragmatic, invariably suggested that I invest in a shotgun, following up with, You should just sell that place, and move to town where theres less wildlife.

Ive thought about doing just that, until my attention is once again diverted to mopping up after the latest unfortunate incident. Heres to my friendsIm glad I could make you laugh.

L ions and tigers and bears and rabid bats, oh my! Well, okaymaybe there arent any lions and tigers marauding through my property, but rabid bats and bears? Definitely.

Im pretty sure theres been at least one big, furry teddy bear traipsing about near my house with nary a care in the world. My dogs could tell you all about itif they could talk And it wouldnt be the standard, Woof-woof-rooo-wrrooof! but instead would sound more along the lines of Holy crap! What is that thing? Its a huge friggin bear! Not gonna think of chasing that sucker. Anyway, that was my interpretation the night the dogs would not set foot off the front steps, but stared into the woods, growling, with hackles raised. If they were scared, I thought it might be a good idea if I was scared, too. We retreated with haste into the house, and I secured the deadbolt for good measure.

Before you decide I simply have a vivid imagination, there really are bears around here. I read about it in the local paper a week after our almost-encountera black bear was spotted in the regional park right across the road from me. Its not much of a stretch to think he gamboled across the road and hung out in the woods by my house. Not to mention my dogs have never reacted that way to any of the other wild critters around hereraccoons, foxes, coyotes, opossums, skunks, and whatever else is lurking out in the tall grass in the pasturethose are considered fair game. Nothing has ever scared my dogs, not until that night.

The rabid bat made its foray into my life on an idyllic summer afternoon as I happily lolled away the day in my hammock, reading a book. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something large and black passing up and over me. Looking up from my book I thought, Man, thats a huge butterfly, when it suddenly executed an aerial U-turn and flew back towards me. Then I identified itthe exposed needle-sharp fangs and beady black eyes were a big tip-off. It winged its way right at me. I rolled off the hammock and hit the ground running for the safety of the enclosed back porch, where I cowered in fear, looking out the windows in search of the bat. In my book, high noon on a sunny, hot summer day plus a flying bat equals rabid. For the next few days, I brought a broom whenever I went outside, fearfully scanning the sky in case it decided to come back.

My house is surrounded by ponds, and is tucked into the woods near the end of a gravel road. Its the home where I grew up, and this area hasnt changed much over the years. Its still rural, although other nearby areas have been built up into the requisite tiny cookie-cutter quadrants of suburbia. Progress, my ass.

Back when I owned a house in one of those same miniscule lots in a suburb, I tried to make it as wild as possible, to bring a little bit of the country into the city. Its built into my genetic codeIll always be a country girl. When my parents passed away, I inherited the house and part of the land, while my brother got the other half. I was excited to move back to a more rural setting, and be more up-close-and-personal with the wildlife. I didnt realize until later just how up-close-and-personal it really would be.

Here in the country is where the deer and the buffalo play. Ahh, yes, my little slice of heaven is a veritable paradise. Thats what I thought.

When I moved back to this property, I got two dogs to protect me in my new home out in the hinterland. Ask me how that worked out, and Ill tell you in a bit. Once I settled in, it took no time at all for me to accumulate a number of farm animals. After all, I live on what would be considered a hobby farm, so why not get some livestock? It seemed the thing to do.

First came a few chickens. However, it might have been a good idea to first have a coop to put them in upon arrival. A small oversight, easily rectified, to the eventual tune of several thousand dollars. When I build a coop, I dont go halfway, I go all in. The Coop de Ville came into existence, and the chickens lived in the lap of luxury.

Then, since the chickens were such a joy, I bought two miniature horses. I had wanted a regular-sized horse to ride on the trails in the nearby regional park, but for once I realized maybe I should start small and work my way up since I didnt know much about horses. At first it was fun. Now when people ask me what my mini horses, Misty and Sunny are good for, I say, Eating hay and making manure. I conveniently leave out that they eat lots of haywhich leads to lots of manure.

To my dismay a few months after I got them, I realized mini horses would make a delectable repast for the hordes of coyotes infesting my property. I didnt make the connection until about eleven one morning, when I noticed a large coyote stalking the mini horses in the pasture. I watched as he made a circuit up and then down the trail, where he stopped and stared at something I couldnt see. This went on for at least five minutes until at last he left. The mini horses cautiously emerged from the corner of the fenced-in area where he had trapped them. I realized I needed to get a guard animal for them, since my dogs were hopeless in that respect. Soon after, a llama and several alpacas joined the burgeoning herd. Llamas are used as guard animals for livestock, especially sheep. I figured they would do just as well protecting my mini horses.