Nummies 911

Shake and Bake

We have eight new baby chicks. We are raising some to sell to a friend who wants older hens about to lay. Mysteriously, Camille started having an allergic reaction about the same time. So in an effort to eliminate any possible causes, we wanted to treat the baby chicks for mites and other possible parasites.  Turns out that Sevin dust is the preferred agent. This method was highly touted on several web sites.  When conferring with my sister who has more farm experience than me, she just laughed and asked me to video it and put it on youtube.  Here you go, Stacy.

 

 

 

Operating on the Kitchen Island

Disclaimer: This story contains medical details that may be overly graphic for some readers. I am long past the shock factor, so I can no longer tell what might be too much. Read at your own risk.

It's always something, isn't it. Anna left Wednesday on a business trip to Florida.  Her dog, Chloe, is never happy when she's gone, and subsequently, there is always a good chance of drama.  She was only outside for about an hour when she came back in and settled in her bed without so much as a sideways glance in my direction. About 30 minutes later, I pass by and notice she has a two inch gash on her side.

Now it's 8pm and of course the vet is closed. The cut is long, but not bleeding and upon further inspection it is only the skin. These little greyhounds have skin that just splits open at the least little nick. It looks as if she got it caught on something like a nail and it ripped downward a couple of inches. It closes up perfectly and the wound is clean.  So the wheels start to turn quickly in my head and I go next door to my neighbor who assists an oral surgeon on mostly pediatric cases. I ask her if she would help me hold the dog, if I stitched up the wound. I really expected her to decline, but she never even paused to consider it, she just said sure and grabbed some gloves she had.

So we set up on the kitchen island because it was high with good light and as my neighbor, Jessica said, it was as cold as an OR.  I numbed the site with lidocaine and waited for it to set up. We cleaned the wound and then I stitched her up. It looked great!

However, as I was cleaning up, I started to think that she should probably be on some antibiotics. All I had was amoxicillin and I was thinking that she might need something a little more. So I decided to take her to the vet the next morning.

I steeled myself as the vet walked in the room. I was prepared for a tongue lashing about stitching up my own dog on the kitchen island.

"Before I show you, I want to let you know I stitched it up myself. I'm a nurse."

"OK," he said.

After looking at it, he said, "What do you want me to do? It looks good."

"I was thinking antibiotics."

"Sure," he said and sent the tech out to get them.

He asked, "She (the dog) let you do this?"

"Yes"

"That's the hardest part, not getting bit. Really the stitching is simple."

"Well, I was thinking of bringing her in, but ..."

"You did a very good job, I wouldn't bring her in if you can do it yourself."

"Thank you for not admonishing me about this."

He just laughed. I reminded him that not all doctors would feel that way. He nodded in agreement. 

So in the end...

MONEY SAVED: $hundreds

VET VISIT    : $80

Smile from a vet (and a great story to tell): PRICELESS

Oh, and don't forget, a healthy dog, which is the best of all!

 

CHICKENS ARE HERE!!!!!!!

I'm so excited! I finally have chickens!  As someone said to me recently, "You've wanted chickens longer than you've wanted children." How true!

Meet the girls

 

There's Alice, Eartha, Mary and Hazel.  Two Araucanas and two Rhode Island Reds. Here they are a few days old, maybe a week.

 

I bought plans for a coop online at Catawba Coops.

Here is the finished product. Chez Poulet. (More photos in the album labeled Chickens.)

Here they are checking out the roost, or attic as Camille calls it. They are now about 4-5 weeks old.

We have a huge backyard for a city lot. I chose the movable chicken coop, commonly called a chicken tractor because I didn't want to build a permanent structure. I thought this would provide a better way to protect them in the winter and eliminate the need to "shovel chicken poop." There were in a brooder box, and they love being in the back yard so much more.

Our favorite activity so far is chicken football. We throw an earthworm in the coop and one takes it and the others try and get it away from her. They run like crazy until they realize they've fumbled and lost the ball...er, worm.

The cat has lost interest, but the dogs who ignored the chicks inside the house, have now deemed them fair game since their move to the outside. Sadie especially pants at the coop as if to quote the shark on Nemo, "I'm having chicken tonight!!" I took one out and let her sniff it. She did well until she got the tail and then she tried to nibble as if to say, "Just a bite!" We'll keep working on that. Good thing is, she's just as interested in the raccoons that come around so maybe we won't lose a chicken to them either. Besides, I keep reminding her that I'll share the eggs with her soon.

Anna was disappointed to know that the hens won't lay for another 5-6 months. I'm not sure what she was expecting, but it will be exciting to get those first eggs this fall. For now, we got the coop finished and I'll be working on a chicken run later.

I'm a chicken novice, so I welcome any comments or advice.

Birth Philosophy

Charlotte is a stray cat that Molly brought home a few weeks ago. I, of course, do not need another living thing in this house, so I kicked her out at least five or six times, but she always found her way back.

After a couple of weeks of this, I realized she was pregnant. So we became Charlotte’s foster home. The last time I had a pregnant cat I was 8 or 9 years old, so I did some reading.
•    Cats can become pregnant as young as 4-6 months old.
•    Cats can become pregnant as soon as 48 hours after giving birth.
•    Cats are very needy and moody when they are pregnant.
Sound familiar? (By the way, a six-month-old cat is the equivalent of a 10-12 year old human.)

I’ve learned some other things along the way.

Turns out there is an old technique in birthing kittens that if the mother does not lick the kitten to stimulate it to breathe, you can “gently” swing the kitten downward between your legs to force out the fluid and clear the airway. WHAT!?! Seriously, that sounds as barbaric as some of the things we do to women in labor and delivery. Science only gets us so far. Doing things the way they’ve always been done, will get you all the way to crazy.

One information source made the declaration: There are no consistently safe and effective ways of inducing labor in a feline. Amen to that, and ditto for women! If only THAT was printed on every little thing a pregnant woman receives from her clinic, than maybe, just maybe, it would have sunk in by the time she reaches 36 weeks. I’m gleaning a little from the next lesson.

My kids have forgotten everything I’ve ever taught them about birth and babies. Being a childbirth educator, doula and finally nurse, I have always talked plainly and truthfully to my children about sex and birth and breastfeeding. However, this experience has taught me that unless you talk about it everyday, most of what you may have considered “covered” is actually “forgotten.”

Leaving things alone is the best way to get things right. In birth anyway, it has a design that works, if only we would let it. Almost everything I read encouraged the pet owner to NOT interfere with the cat's labor and delivery, but to be there as a "lifeguard" if something goes wrong. And yet, when we as humans have just as good a design on labor and birth, we REFUSE to believe in it. We judge it, question it, doubt it. Are there no wise women left who believe that birth is right, natural and best left alone? Are there no women who want swim with lifeguards? I could go on and on about this one, but I'll leave it for now.

While most sources say that a cat prefers seclusion, Charlotte wanted my attention in labor, so I sat with her, and petted her and tried to support her. But as any good doula knows, you cannot possibly prepare a female for what happens at the moment of birth. Charlotte became wide eyed as her first kitten emerged and she literally tried to climb up my arm. It was a familiar sight, one I’ve seen so many times as young, first time mothers climb to the top of the birthing bed to “get away” from the pain. The next time is better because while it hurts the same, we know what to expect and the panic is not as bad. By the third kitten, Charlotte didn’t even make a sound.

 

The children’s reactions to the kittens just exemplify how very different each child is. Cullen is squeamish and Camille is not. Cullen touched one of the kittens and then felt the umbilical cord. He freaked out and ran to the bathroom to wash his hands. Camille laughed and at 3½ years old, she mocked him with waving hands and laughing, said “I’ve got to wash my hands!” Camille picks up earthworms with her bare hands.

While Molly is imaginative, Camille is rather concrete. Molly is projecting personalities onto the kittens, determining little scenarios and trying to find names that fit.
Camille asks, “Is my kitten sick, or is he OK?”
She says, “I’d like my kitten to be a girl.”

Later, Camille thinks we should sing a song to the kittens.
“Do you know any kitten songs, Mommy?” she asks.
I reply, “No, that would be Molly’s department. Go ask her. I’m sure she can make up a kitten song for you.” And she will.

 

Baby Bunny #3

Here she is, the third catch of the season. She was in shock for about a day, but perked up and then hopped away to safety (I hope.)  She was so sweet we considered keeping her, but she's a wild rabbit and would be much better off away from the beagle and cat.

Baby Bunny # 2 of the Season

It's officially spring now that the second casualty has arrived. I say casualty, but the bunny actually lived. Although I'm sure being ripped from your nest mates in the middle of the night by the clenched jaws of a big black cat and then being hoisted over a six foot fence and pushed through a pet door to land in the make believe room of a child surely qualifies as casualty, at least to the baby bunny.

In these instances, it is my custom to release the bunny (after a few photos) and keep Percy the cat in for the rest of the night. It's the best I can do.