Coyote Soup

Bringing life back to the family ranch with three young free range braves and lots of organic elbow grease.

Mandatory Meeting November 9, 2012

Filed under: Animals — Piper Long @ 10:10 am
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The Bessy Club is having a mandatory meeting this morning. The meeting is being held under the pear tree, near the garden shed just slightly northwest of the chicken pen.

I’m pretty sure they are planning a party to celebrate the 90% chance of .2 inches of rain we are all so hopeful to get around here this weekend. It will be the first shower they’ve had in weeks. And trust me, they need it.

The fetid, malodorous aura surrounding their clique has been somewhat of a hinderance in the recruiting department. Which is probably why they’ve chosen to temporarily sever their relations with the rest of the herd.

They’ll have to be sure they are out in the open or they might miss the shower altogether.

That would be tragic.

The meeting was for bovines only. ‘Bessy’ being the required name/password.
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Poor Rocket is just now finding this out.
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It really hurt his feelings.

Who needs a club like that anyway Rocket?

Not me.
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Not when we can hang out with cowboys like this.

 

A Bed of Pansies October 31, 2012

Filed under: kitties,Uncategorized — Piper Long @ 11:46 am
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Yesterday I picked up some deeply discounted pansies to dress up my front porch.

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I’m sure Junior will lie on them.

Junior is a completely useless cat.
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He has few wants.

Few needs.
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And contributes little more than carbon dioxide to the good of the world.

But we love him nonetheless.
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This bed of pansies I’m sure will be too much for him to resist. Hopefully his carbon dioxide contribution will be enough to compensate for the pansies’ inability to respire when he lies atop them.

There’s always hope.
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Hope everyone has a safe and happy Halloween!

 

The Cake Truck October 25, 2012

Filed under: ranching — Piper Long @ 6:31 am
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Cattle guards are a wonderful invention.

They are typically used in place of gates where the fence meets the roadway to keep cattle from wandering over into the wrong pasture. They save hurried ranch wives oodles of time that would otherwise be spent parking the car, getting out of the car, opening the gate, getting back in the car, driving through the open gate, parking the car, getting out of the car and closing the gate.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

Up until recently our cattle guards have done an outstanding job guarding the gate area.

But recently, the cattle have been jumping the cattle guards.

Some are even tippy-toeing across and gathering at a green patch of grass near the house.

“Why do they keep jumping the cattle guard?” Drover asked, looking out the kitchen window. “The gate was open when I came in and the cows were nowhere in sight. It’s not like they don’t have plenty of food in their pasture.”

“You wanna know why?” I asked, drying my hands on the kitchen towel. “It’s because you drive all over this ranch, handin out that cake grain from your truck. Sure they’ve got food lyin around, but you’ve got cake. You’re like the ice cream truck, only with cake. Heifers will do anything for cake.”

Drover looked at me and I could see the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. And with that he headed out the door to resume his cake truck route.

As soon as the cows heard the sounds of the cake truck in the distance, their ears perked up.
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And they began to follow.
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Until they noticed the fresh, healthy greens on the opposite side of the road.

Oh the dilemmas of life.

Healthy greens… or cake?
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Cake!

Definitely cake!

 

A Random Chicken Nest March 14, 2011

Filed under: Animals,Chickens — Piper Long @ 7:11 am
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Today I was in the dairy barn looking for the feed scoop when I happened upon an undiscovered nest of eggs in a feed bin. One of the many problems with letting my chickens have free range of the entire farm.

It’s not that they don’t have plenty of nest boxes.

I think they are just being lazy. They go to the dairy barn for bits of corn and don’t want to walk all the way back to the chicken house to lay, so they just run around willy-nilly laying eggs wherever they fancy. Which wouldn’t be a problem if they would tell me.

Most of the hens comply and lay in the nest boxes I’ve provided, but there are still a few rebels who refuse to cooperate.

And while we’re on the subject of laying…

who’s laying the puny eggs?

Was it you?

No?

How about you?

Ugh, nevermind.

 

 
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