The chipper news commentator on my beloved local NPR station (shout out to WSKG) cheerfully announced this morning that the temperature in my area would be 17 below with the windchill. WTF? What happened to global warming people? Leave it to me to have to spend my first winter with farm animals, petrified that I will find chickensicles and bunnysicles in my barn. Of course, come July I will be very grateful I don't live in North Carolina where the pavement melts in the oppressive heat.
Last night I put more bedding into the bunnies' hutches and covered their houses with blankets to help hold in the heat. I added more straw to the hen house, gave them some extra food and hot water, made sure the heat lamp was working and managed to smear some more animal vapor rub between Chicky Rivera's shoulders. She has the snuffles again the poor thing.
The dogs ran outside to pee and quickly came scratching and whining at the door to come in. Even Big Kitty decided to stay inside last night; preferring to deal with the two annoying dogs, one annoying kitten and three annoying children rather than face the frigid temperatures.
We all went to bed and I could hear the wind howling through the branches of the gigantic Black Locust tree I am sure is going to come crashing down on my house one day. I couldn't sleep. 'Are the bunnies warm enough?' 'Should I go get the chickens and bring them into the basement?' I still can't shake the story Scrappy Doo's five year old friend told me about finding two of his chickens frozen like statues in the hen house one winter day.
I love having the boys' farmer friends over for play dates. I pretend I am merely showing interest in these children's lives with my barrage of questions, but in reality I am grilling them for answers to questions I am too embarrassed to ask their parents, for fear of looking like a farming dilettante. Did you know that the reason bulls have rings through their noses is not just because it looks badass? You can grab it and pull hard when the bull charges you to avoid being impaled. I had no idea.
I tossed and turned for a while and decided I was too warm and lazy to traipse outside into the black tundra to relocate all of the critters. I lay there feeling guilty and started rationalizing my decision with Darwinian thoughts such as: 'Surely chickens would have become extinct ages ago if they couldn't withstand freezing temperatures.' 'Which one of the bunnies would I put in the Pack and Play I have set up in the spare room? If one died outside while one survived inside, I would forever feel guilt for my Sophie's choice, and I couldn't possibly put both of them in the Pack and Play because that would lead to sex which would lead to babies which would lead to BFF or Baby Bunny eating the babies and killing each other in a Wagnerian climax!'
Mostly it is the deer. I know this from another friend of the boys' who told me the big impressions in the snow that look like a meteor hit, are actually from the deer who just lie down in the middle of my yard at night trying to stay warm. I don't know how they do it since their fur doesn't really look too warm. I do know if you are lost in the woods in winter you can cut open a deer and climb inside to keep yourself warm. No, wait, that is a tauntaun. If you are lost outside on the planet Hoth, you can cut open a tauntaun and climb inside to stay warm. My bad.
I woke this morning and was a little reluctant to check on the barn critters for fear of what I might find, but to my relief, everyone was fine and while I wouldn't say the barn or hen house were warm, my nose hairs did manage to thaw out while I was tending to the flock.
No comments:
Post a Comment