Shhh, Don’t Wake the Baby.

Extreme Makeover - Llama Edition

Four months after arriving here, Miss Aibileen has so much shine on her nose she may need to powder it.

You might recall she had been suffering with some infections and general neglect before rescue. Her fiber was in such poor condition all the hair on her nose had worn off.

Now she’s so stinkin’ cute, Miss Aibileen could work for Maybelline.

Glory Goats

A major event like Civil War Days at Conner Prairie requires a massive undertaking of coordination. At any given moment there are hundreds of reenactors performing a wide variety of activities all across the grounds.  It is impossible to micro-manage every single aspect of the event, the planner has to rely on the individual units to perform the tasks they are assigned without constant supervision. Let’s face it, getting through a major event like this without incident is more or less a miracle.

This morning, all eyes were on the Union troops in their military finery who were performing drills in the pasture located just outside the barn. Artillery fire and Gatlin guns could be heard in the distance.  Apparently Miss V. didn’t like being outdone by a bunch of reenactors, she decided it was time to put on a show of her own by performing an actual miracle.

I was busy with my role as the camp laundress when I got the call. I quickly grabbed my camera and headed to the barn. She had very quickly given birth to a buck and a doe.

Suddenly the crowd was thinking, “Civil what?” All the attention shifted to the newborn kids.

Who could blame them?

I managed to tear myself away and return to my post, but couldn’t wait to get back to the barn later in the day. The moment I saw the little doe up close and personal my heart melted. Miss V. really did perform a miracle; she’s not just an ordinary little doe. She is by far the WORLD’S CUTEST GOAT KID because she is very, very special.

This little doe was born complete with her own jewelry. She has waddles just below her ears that make her look like she’s wearing dangly earrings!

Not all goats have waddles. If they do, they are usually on the side of the neck like Miss V’s.  Needless to say,she is extremely proud of her little miracles and was up on the floor showing them off only hours after giving birth.

I’m not sure, but based on the smiles, I suspect the youth volunteers and employees working today were okay with that.

And I’m sure the guests who came expecting to see a battle were okay with seeing a birth, too.

A Kid and Her Calf

Boing.

Boing.

“Thwwwwp.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, I could use a little help. I’m stuck up here,” said the kid.

 

“I really need to up my babysitting rates,” thought the calf.

Celebrity Duck Rehab - Season Premier

Like a lot of other child stars, Mr. Duck missed out on crucial learning opportunities when he was a duckling. He was too busy working to enjoy many of the pleasures of ducklinghood. This may be part of what caused his recent behavioral issues, which spurred HR to write him up and send him to therapy.

For the first episode of Celebrity Duck Rehab, I decided we would teach Mr. Duck how to swim. Previous attempts in the big pond at Conner Prairie had failed so I decided this time to start small with a duck-size wading pool, otherwise known as a dog food bowl.

Seems Mr. Duck is more of a dip-your-toe-in kind of duck versus a diving-in-head-first guy. He eventually warmed up to it and, I think, even liked it. It wasn’t long before he was standing in it, jumping in and out, and having a great time taking a much needed shower.

The next challenge was introduced the following day, a larger pool complete with a diving board. Before I knew it I heard shouts of “Cannonball!”, followed by splashing sounds. You could say he took to it like a duck to water. (groan)

In fact, he’s had such a grand time he’s asked for a larger in-ground pool. “Why do you need a bigger pool,” I asked?

“So I can invite all my peers over for a pool party. I want to show off my mad swimming skills.”

“Um, okay, but who exactly are your peers?”

“Duh! Daffy from Warner Brothers, Donald and Scrooge from Disney…”

Moving In and Moving Out

The alpaca boys hit the lottery and found the very best home they could ever hope for so they packed their bags, got their pedicures and shots, and headed out this morning.

They moved to a farm 35 miles west of here where there is basically a whole swat team of super nice people who want to take great care of them.  Even better, the multi-generation family knew that Willa would be lost without them and asked if they could take her with them! I cried. I’ve been so worried about Willa and where she might end up. I couldn’t be happier for all of them. Knowing they will all stay together and receive the best possible care makes me very happy.

I will miss each and every one of them, but I absolutely know it is the right thing. The timing of it all and the way it came about through my veterinarian makes me believe it was meant to be.

So the barn might be less crowded, but the coop is filling up again.  Guess who followed me home this week? 

Mr. Duck has taken up residence in Old One-Eyed Calico Jack’s former bachelor pad. I’m getting him set up with an online dating service. Hopefully we can find him a girlfriend soon.

I Might be in Love

I’m not sure if it is their little heart-shaped noses, their adorable smiles…

or their spring loaded legs, but if they asked me for all my money and my car keys I’d probably hand them over.

The triplets at work have me wrapped around their hooves.

Even so, it is impossible to choose favorites when you are surrounded by this much cuteness.

Choosing only one would be impossible.

And that’s just the lambs.

All the Guinea Pigs are Wearing Pinstripes This Year

Poor Rose. She was losing all her fleece so I decided to roo her last month. Problem was, she was only losing it in certain places. By the time I rooed what I could and sheared the rest with hand shears she looked like she had a REALLY bad case of mange. Given that I have a nice set of electric shears sitting right there in the barn, I figured I should at least try to even things out for her a little bit. Sadly, the blade might not have been working quite right.

“Don’t even think of coming near me again,” said Rose. “The first year you learned how to shear by watching a YouTube video, we looked horrible for months. The next year wasn’t much better. Now this?”

“But I think the pinstripes make you look thinner,” I said.  “Besides, I think I fixed the blade.”

“Step away or I’m filing a restraining order.”

The Golden Ticket

There is always so much to do and see at Conner Prairie, you could come every week and see something different. Nowhere on the grounds is that more true than in the Animal Encounters Barn.  The livestock program at Conner Prairie is run just like any other farm with the one exception that the livestock also volunteer to be education facilitators. It isn’t a petting zoo, although lots of petting does occur, the animals are there to help educate guests about agriculture and history.

The animals are carefully selected for their temperament and closely monitored. If they show any amount of stress at all they are allowed to return to the pasture.  However, usually the opposite is true, the Tunis have especially been known to demand attention from the guests even going so far as to goose them if necessary.

As facilitators we are able to discuss anything and everything there is to know about the various livestock on the grounds. Sometimes we demonstrate such things as hoof trimming or other livestock management practices.

Of course, one of the guest’s favorite activities is feeding the bottle babies.

Yet, if they are really, really lucky and they happen to draw what I call The Golden Ticket, they get an even better reward for visiting. Just behind the railing is a pen. A pen where ewes and does lounge and rest.

If the guests draw that Golden Ticket, the barn goes silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The only sound that can be heard is the calm and assuring voice of the livestock manager explaining in detail what is about to happen. 

The guests eyes grow wide as saucers as the miracle of life unfolds right before them. Gasps can be heard as the first lamb works her way into this world. Gasps again when they realize there are more lambs coming. No one can break themselves away from the railing until the newborns learn to take their first steps.

They wait until they know everyone is settled in, then and only then, do they leave. But they don’t go empty handed, they take with them an experience of a lifetime and a memory they will never forget.

He’s an Odd Duck

Don’t tell anybody, but he is rapidly becoming my favorite. Not everyone likes Mr. Duck at Conner Prairie, but as you know I’ve always been one to root for the underdog. He seems to like me in return and is willing to sit in my lap or arms for hours while being petted and otherwise inspected by curious guests.

He is an Indian Runner Duck. A rare breed that was imported from India and Malaya into Brittan in the 1830s. They were referred to as Penguin Ducks because of their upright stance. Like penguins, the Indian Runner cannot fly, nor do they waddle, instead their leg position allows them to run at a remarkable pace.   Historically the ducks were trained to stay near a herder with a bamboo pole. They were driven out to forage rice paddies during the day, then back to a bamboo hut at night to lay their eggs. Centuries of this type of arrangement produced a breed that were good walkers, excellent foragers and prolific layers.

Ancient stone carvings suggest that this breed of duck has been domesticated for over 2000 years. They are raised not for meat, but for their egg laying ability; a hen can lay over 180 eggs per year.

The breed standard has a wide variety of colors, hens often sport different markings than drakes. Mr. Duck’s color is called fawn & white. Unprotected they generally live 5-10 years, in captivity even longer.  I sure hope he lives that long, I think he’s pretty cool.

Perhaps Some Facilitator Training is in Order.

Miss V!  What are you doing up there?

Do you really think standing in the hay feeder is appropriate behavior while we have guests?

“Lady, I’m eating for four here. You try carrying triplets, then we’ll talk about what’s appropriate behavior. Besides, Mr. Duck is the one snatching onto pant legs. ”

Is this true, Mr. Duck? You know you’ve already been written up by HR once.

“It wasn’t me. It must have been some other duck.”

You are the only duck we have.

“Oh. Um, er, that’s a problem.”

I Took My Big-Girl Camera to Work Today

Meet Goober, he is a two-week old Alpine goat.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I couldn’t help it.  I peed a little.”

 
If he doesn’t convince you to come visit Conner Prairie, I don’t know what will.