Rodent Wars

We have had trouble this year with rodents around the farm. The guys noticed it last fall with rats digging holes around, worst of all under the bins under the concrete (which could be really bad if it caused one to collapse). They found it attractive out there, I am sure, due to the never-ending supply of food in the grain bins. It has been Papa's job to bait the rats, and as he has done so, the critters have moved outward ... like, to my house. I have never been sure if the holes I've seen under our back steps were from mice or rats, (and to be honest, I didn't really want to know), but if they were mice, they were really big ones judging by the size of the holes.

We have always had mice around here -- it is a rural area, after all -- and usually a packet or two of poison pellets here or there would take care of it for a while. But one night as I sat at the dining room table reading the paper and watching TV, a mouse ran into the room from the living room. He stopped when he saw me sitting there, then ran and hid behind a box I had along the wall. After a moment, he peeked out at me (yes, I was still there, wondering what I could do about it just then ... nothing), then he ran back to where he came from.

And so I bought a bunch of new poison and bait stations, both for me and for Papa, and declared war. He said my poison didn't work on the rats so he bought some of his own; the only way I could know if my critters were in population decline was by odor (eew, I know) but the smelly chicken manure on the field to the south of us confused even that method, so I was never sure if what I had was dying off or not. I had three mouse traps downstairs (under the house) and caught 2-3 mice in those, but those big holes under my step bothered me. Especially since whatever was living under there insisted on pushing out all the gravel used for fill when we poured the concrete steps... I bought a spring type rat trap but did not catch anything in it. Until Friday night. And it wasn't a rat (whew) but a field mouse. Lou says field mice are brown and this one was brown with a while underside. (sorry, no pictures!) My other house mice have always been just little gray mice.

Papa has been having luck with his poison; some dead rats have been seen around and some holes he has filled in have not been re-dug. On Friday I filled in the holes under the step with the gravel that had been pushed out, and they were not re-dug after 48 hours, so maybe the diggers have died or vacated. Today when I redid the flower bed (next post), I filled in all the holes Omar had dug along that side of the house (chasing rodents, I am sure) so I hope they are gone for good. I don't want Omar or a rodent to make new holes out there. And I hope they have decided this is not a safe place to live, never to return. I never did see a rat here by the house, dead or alive, so hopefully they were "just mice" and my poison worked. We shall see.

Puppy report #2

After thinking she needed a real name of her own, we have decided to call her Duchess. She is going to be a regal dog someday and that is a pretty good name for her. Right now she is a puppy, and such a sweet thing too. We will still call her Babe at least 1/2 the time, I figure. But being a puppy means a few other things too --

1) Chewing on stuff.
I let her out of the pen yesterday so she could get used to our back yard on a Sunday while there wasn't much traffic going through here. She found a treasure under the roses out under our back yard trees -- a dead bird, great for shaking around and pulling feathers out of and chewing on, until it grossed me out and I took it away. An old kitchen towel with a knot tied in it satisfied her a bit this afternoon; also good for chewing on and shaking around, but no crunching when she chews... We'll see what other good stuff she finds, or destroys, with her teething.

2) Making friends.
Almost the very minute Kelli and the boys drove out of the driveway to take Lizzie home with them, Duchess decided she'd better make a new friend quick. She is not good at being alone. She really, really wants to be friends with Omar but he is not so hot on it all. The upside is that he's not jealous of the time or attention she gets. The downside is that he'd rather she maintain a good distance from him altogether, so he often ignores her. She is persistent, however, and I think she will win him over eventually. Reminds me of how he treated Boris, only Boris sat in one spot so Omar could run and attack him. Omar jumps up and moves somewhere else when the active pup gets to nosing around.

I have spent a lot of time outside and she seems to have started liking me quite a lot, too. She'll come when I call, and if I go into the house, she isn't sure what to do next. I am trying to teach her that the deck is a good place to hang out because I can see her from my window in the kitchen or utility room, and it is a good place for her to see around the back yard without danger of being run over or stepped on by anyone. This has become more important now that she has become an ...

3) Escape artist.
Dogs traditionally don't like fences, in my observation. They dig under, climb over, or find a hole to get out. Out here it hasn't been a problem with our dogs -- we don't have fences in the yard, and the pig fences are to keep the pigs IN (and sometimes they even work that way) We contain them when they're little and they learn as they grow where the boundaries are. Lou and I spent an afternoon building a cheap and temporary fence/pen for the new puppy before they arrived, over by the old shop; a place where we could feel we could put her and she'd be safe if we weren't home, etc. It turned out well and we were ready. Temporary lasted 3 days. Today, Duchess decided she didn't want to be penned up in there. Before today, even if she didn't like it much, after I put her in for the night or to go to town, she'd cry a bit and then retreat to the doghouse that is just her size and settle in. Today she cried, whined, yelped, and howled for the better part of an hour at lunchtime when I put her in to be sure the pickups coming through for lunch wouldn't find a confused puppy underneath a tire. She ran back and forth, putting her head out of the fence holes, trying to find a hole big enough to fit her body through. No luck; just her head came through and so I was worried she'd hang herself if she tried it on a hole that was too high up, but she always got it undone. Tonight I put her in there again for the night -- she needed to eat something and it was starting to rain. Her doghouse is pretty water tight, so good deal, right? No way. She went through her howling and crying routine as I came back inside. I watched her while reading the newspaper at the dining room table to be sure she wouldn't hang herself ... she was determined to get out of there through one of those holes in the pig panel. Darned if she didn't succeed after about 10 minutes! I thought she'd give up trying after she realized she didn't fit, but now that she's had success in escaping, I think the puppy pen is not going to be trustworthy, at least until she grows enough not to fit through the holes! She is sleeping nicely on the deck on some towels I put out there for her, but I'll probably have to chain her up somewhere for her own protection in the night so she won't follow Omar off somewhere and get lost or become coyote bait. (maybe in the pen, but it will have to be a short chain lest she fit through the fence again.) Can't put her in the scale house like we did with the other puppies since the door to the outside is so old and deteriorated that it flaps in the breeze and wouldn't hold her for 3 seconds.

Puppies are so fun!

New Arrival

Puppies are always fun! I realized it has been 10 years since we had a puppy around here, which is good news -- the last 3 dogs we've had have lived on the farm for 10-13 years. We went through a spell there where we lost too many dogs at too young of age, after Gus (12).

Here is our last "new puppy," Omar:
Photo taken 2.26.2001:
Omar (12 weeks?), Boris (3)

Boris tolerated 'Omar the energetic,' but only because he had to. He was lost without a companion after we sent Tasha to live at Louis and Margaret's house. Omar was just lucky he could outrun Boris ...

I thought Omar's reaction to a new puppy here would either be delight ("Finally, someone who wants to play!") or hostility ("I am top dog here.") but I thought he'd probably do just fine. He doesn't like any other dogs that show up in someone's vehicle, but for some reason puppies and little kids are OK with him.

We brought both puppies home on March 17 after picking them up at the airport in the afternoon and having a brief meeting in the park with Ben and Kelli and the boys (who were in Spokane for a family event that night). When we opened the back of the van and Omar saw the carrier, I was glad when I saw his tale gently wagging, rather than stepping back and barking at the little strangers. We let them out for a bit and then they stayed here together the first night. Lou and I built a little puppy pen out by the old shop for a safe place to keep a little one while learning what is dangerous and where not to go around here. They had each other and that was good.

The next morning they were in the old dog house (instead of their carrier) like two peas in a pod. Kelli and the boys came later in the morning. We were going to let Nicholas choose which puppy he wanted at his house, but he was more or less indifferent so we decided the 'lead' pup would go to their house (she is more outgoing) and the follower pup would stay here and become a good watchdog for the farm. Already each had barked at Omar when he walked at a distance, so it might not matter a lot either way. Mastiff - Great Pyrenees pups should grow up to be good guardians of the family and flock. (the breeder called them 'maspyr' puppies)

Our big decision was what to name them. Kelli might tell their story so I won't talk about that here. We all agonized for a few weeks over lists and lists of puppy names, none sounding quite right. Our choices were between about 5 names, but since we both tended to call little animals and kids (and each other!) "Babe," Lou said we should just name her Babe. I said OK, but I realized today that I can't call her that as a NAME. Yes, I'll still say it as a nickname on occasion, but it doesn't feel like a name that is uniquely hers. So we are rethinking her name ... I'll fill in here when we settle for sure (I think Lou is OK with the name I have suggested; it wasn't on my previous list but works better than any of those, I think, and it came to me just this morning).

She is still sort of shy of loud noises and big people walking toward her, which is to be expected with so much of that going on around here, but she really likes Omar and runs out of the pen to follow him. Once sister went home yesterday, she was pretty sad all by herself and saw the need for a new friend. Omar hasn't yet warmed up to the curious pup all that much -- if she gets too close, he gets up and walks away, much to her dismay. She'll keep trying, though, and I think they'll do fine together. I am so glad he is not the jealous type. I think he got used to having to wait his turn for attention since Boris was such an attention hog and kept Omar away as much as he could.


It will be fun to have this little one, after such a long stretch without a new puppy here. We figure she'll only fit in this little dog house for a week or two, not worth repainting the name above the door!