My
name is Amos.
I
live on a farm with my family
I
am seven-years old.
My
sister Kate is three-years old.
We
live with our mother who takes care of us, And the animals.
On
our farm there are many animals. We have pigs. Ducks. Chickens.
Birds. Horses. Cats. The animals have to be fed every morning, and
evening.
Our
mother rises early every morning when the sun is reaching above the
horizon to welcome in the new day.
The
laugh of the kookaburra echoes up the valley to the top of the hills.
We can't tell if he is happy, or sad.
One
day, after a shower of rain, mother went down to feed the animals to
find two baby kookaburra's in a deep trough of water. Each of them
were flapping their wet wings to stay afloat. To keep their head
above the level of water.
Water
dripped from the feathers of the kookaburra when mother scooped them
from the trough. She placed the both of them on the nearest, flat
corrugated iron roof to keep them safe until they dried. When the
feathers were dry both the kookaburras flew away to land on a high
tree branch.
In
the summer the heat burns the grass brown. We have to give the
animals more food. With no green grass on which to feed all day, they
had to wait until feeding time. Or nibble of the dry grass.
When
the rain returns the grass turns green so the animals can eat all
day. The horses are not so dependent on us for feed.
We
have two horses. Kate helps to feed the horses because she like to
pat them. In the warmer weather we hose the horses to keep them cool,
and clean.
Goldie
is a mare. She used to be a race horse in her past life. The owner
retired her because she had been injured racing. She is brown.
Nine-years of age.
The
other horse was called Dawnella. She was a foal. Her mother died not
long after her birth. The death was cause by the bight of a tick. I
had to feed the foal with milk from a bucket. No way did she accept
to be feed with a bottle. She didn't even like being watched while
she fed. When I walked away leaving the bucket on the ground she'd
eat. Her coloring was chestnut with a white blaze down the middle of
her forehead.
The
both horses galloped around the paddock. When they couldn't see each
other one whinnied to call to the other, then return to walk, and
feed, together on the grass, of hay.
In
each sty I had a number of pigs. The pigs loved being sprayed with
water. They stood in the way when the stall was being washed clean.
When the cement was still wet they rolled around then lay in the sun
to dry.
The
piglet were very small. They kept escaping from the sty. Everyone had
to chase them to put them back with the mother. Their mother was a
large sow called Snorkie. She had a very long snout, She had given
birth to ten piglet. Some white. Other black. Some black and white.
All
the pigs rushed to the side of the sty to be patted, and scratched
behind the ears. Most of the pigs had been born in the wild before
coming to the farm. They had been tamed. Liked all the attention
given to them.
There
was a dog called Sam. He was jealous of all the other animals. He
chased the horses around the paddock when no one was at home. Sam
also chased the chickens, and the cats. Kate, and I, chased Sam to
keep him away from the other animals. He was placed on a chain to let
the animals have some peace.
On
a winter's morning sneakers would be soaked when we walked through
the grass to feed the animals. The blades of the grass white from
frost, and dew. Beads of moisture fell toward the ground when the sun
rose above the horizon. The birds chattered, and squawked to bring in
the new day.
Sam
trotted along after mother's heels watching for the first movement
from any of the animals who may have escaped. He'd chase them before
he was stopped. His pink tongue hung between his sharp teeth which
lined his powerful jaw. Once his jaws had closed there was no way
anyone was able to open them.
On
arriving at the animal pens, and sty’s, Sam ran around the fence
barking.
He
snapped at the chickens, pigs, and ducks.
Drool
dripped from his mouth at the thought of eating the animals.
He
cast them a look of challenge.
Greed
showed in his eyes.
He
hoped for one to escape for him to chase.
Catch.
Kill.
Eat.
Sam
was very fast.
Sly,
and cunning.
“Sam.
Leave the chickens alone.”
Sam
didn't listen.
He
grabbed one chicken by a wing
Mother
grabbed him before he was able to hurt the chicken. “You naughty
boy. Leave the chicken go.”
Sam
looked guilty.
No
way was he going to lose his ill gotten gains.
He
wouldn't open his mouth.
He
looked daggers at mother from where he cowered on the ground.
Sam
had been watching for us to be too busy to keep an eye on him.
He
had dived quick to grab the escaped chicken.
Sam
was smart at playing dumb while waiting his chance to catch his prey.
He
had waited until we walked over to the shed to collect hay for the
horses. Gaining an opportunity Sam grabbed for the nearest chicken.
He
ran around with the chicken hanging from his mouth.
The
chicken tried to escape and made a lot of noise.
He
lay on the ground ready to make a meal of the chicken.
Sam
dared anyone of us to try to take his catch.
Mother
straddled Sam.
She
knelt on the ground to wedge Sam between her knees.
Took
hold of his upper, and lower, section of his mouth to pulled open his
mouth.
The
fought a battle of wills, and strength.
Finally,
mother won with her determined effort to pries open the mouth to set
the chicken free.
The
chicken was too scared to move.
The
shock of a near death experience had frozen her movements.
Still
holding Sam to the ground she picked up the chicken to put in the pen
out of harms way. She placed it in one of the nest boxed to rest.
After
the episode with Sam the chicken became known by the name of
Roly-poly. Ever time it moved it toppled over to roll in the dirt.
“Look
mother. The chicken is funny. He goes roly-poly.”
“The
chicken was hurt. Naughty Sam hurt the poor chicken,” mother told
Kate, who had not been there when it was saved from the jaws of
death.
“Bad
Sam. He hurt Roly-poly.”
From
that day forward, the chicken was called Roly-poly.
The
injured chicken turned into a proud bantam rooster. Every time he
escaped from the pen Sam lay in wait to catch him. But Roly-poly was
able to fly to escape to the roof of the pen.
He
stood there to crow down at Sam.
Proud
of his escape tactics.
He'd
beaten the dog.
Last
week, Roly-poly nearly met his Waterloo.
He
fell off the fence around the sty.
Roly-poly
fell into the feeding trough of the pigs.
The
pigs were standing near the trough waiting for more food.
Roly-poly
fell.
The
pigs dived their heads into the trough to fight for the food.
Once
again luck was on his side.
He
missed falling into the trough.
He
was wedged between the trough, and the fence, out of reach of the
hungry pigs.
Mother
climbed over the fence to save him from being eaten.
Even
though he had been in many scrapes, he still stood up against the
much larger roosters in the pen. One day while they were fighting,
mother grabbed two plastic buckets to place over the roosters to stop
them from attacking each other. When she had stopped the fight, she
placed the roosters in different pens. Roly-poly stayed with the
hens, and the other rooster was placed in the pen with the ducks.
Being
a proud rooster Roly-poly struts around the farm. He is free to do so
now Sam has been given away to a new home. A place where there
weren't any animals for him to chase.
Peace
reigned again with all the animals.
The
cats are also free to roam without being chased by Sam.
Jade
is a tabby colored cat.
She
produced a kitten which became known a Smoggy.
Smoggy
is a tortoise shell color. Mostly black with ginger, and white,
patches.
When
tine went by more kittens arrived. One called Ginger because of the coloring of its coat.
Stripes
was the other. He was a striped tabby cat.
The
cats followed mother every where.
To
feed the animals.
To
hang out the washing.
Stripes,
and Ginger, thought they were helping by swinging on the towels
hanging from the line. Or try to crawl in with the washing to play.
We
had a rain water tank at the side of the house. If the rain didn't
fill it we had to turn on the windmill. The tank was made of cement.
We had to keep check on the level of the water to know when we needed
to refill with the windmill.
A
ladder stayed propped against the side of the tank for us to climb up
to look in the hole, or use a stick to measure the level. On one
occasion, when mother had taken her turn up the ladder to check the
water she had company.
She
had finished cleaning the leaves from the strainer.
Went
to step down to the next rung.
“Look
out for Stripes,” yelled Amos.
Mother
turned to look what happened below.
Stripes
was on his way up the ladder to reach the top of the tank.
He
didn't stop.
He
pushed his way between mother, and the ladder, to reach the top
When
he had achieved his position on the tank he turned to look down.
Ginger
raced around the tank to find a different way to make to the top of
the tank.
He
tried the large gum tree close to the tank but it wasn't close enough
for him to jump.
Finally,
he took a chance with the ladder to make his way to the tank.
The
two of them made their way back down the ladder to reach the ground.
We
had a duckling called Squeak.
He
was the first of the batch to be hatched.
We
took him away from his mother because she still had a job to do.
Mother
didn't want her to walk away from the not hatched eggs.
He
was placed in a box with a light bulb to keep it warm until big
enough to put back in the pen when the other ones arrived.
Squeak
was lonely for some time because he didn't have a mother, or friends,
in the box to keep warm.
He
was happy when he was big enough to put in the pen with the other
ducks.
We
had to make sure he was locked away where the foxes didn't catch him.
Squeak
is happy in the coupe with the hen, and chickens.
They
make a happy family.
No
more duckling were hatched because Willy water rat sneaked into the
nest and stole the eggs.
We
were moving the piglets from one pen to another when one escaped.
He
ran toward the bush.
He
didn't escape for long.
He
came racing home with Jade, Stripes, and Ginger chasing him toward
the sty.
The
piglet squealed to his mother for help to save him from the cats.
The
scene looked so funny with the cats chasing the piglet.
His
little legs scooted across the ground.
Dodged
around bushes, and logs, to find his way home to his mother.
We
like living on our farm.
You
never know what is going to happen next.
Some
of our friends call our home the Funny Farm. They have seen the
antics of our animals but is hard for them to believe what their
eyes were seeing.
“Those
animals are not animals,” our friends tell us.
“We
know that. They are our mother's other children.
