Almost the End of Summer

This is Mama... variously called "Little Mama", "Mamacita" and other similar sobriquets. 

She is missing. 

She is the mother of the four kittens that were born in my shop, the kittens who went into 

rescue a month ago.  Mama, hardly more than a kitten herself, went to be neutered and ear-tipped... and came back to me.  She quickly moved from the shop to the front porch.  She was a little bit of a bully. 

She was having trouble seeing, I noticed that as she moved through the yard, she would have to stare a long time at things... and going through a gate was very hard for her. I resolved to take her down to the doctors at Pleasant Valley Clinic in Tonganoxie, this week, who are wonderful with cats. 

Thursday morning was the last time I have seen her. 

My heart is breaking for her.  She followed me across the yard, and I helped her through the gate onto the "chicken side".  Out of the corner of my eye I could see her intimidate Teenie and Wanda who live at the big hen house.  Then, I lost sight of her. 

My neighbors have looked for her too, and Troy is watching his cameras.  I have been up and down the road. 

I have called and gone in and out of the buildings multiple times. 

I am praying she comes home and is okay. 

This morning, the sheep went home to their Smiling M pastures. 

I will miss them over the winter. 

In the bottom picture is Flicka, the Dorper that I gave to the Smiling M family three years ago. 

She is heavily pregnant, and I was told she had her lambs in December the last two years. 

Her owner looked at her this morning and said "That looks like two!".  I agree. 

I moved the vulture feeder back into the pasture for now, but the vultures will also be going home in another month. 

Here they are this morning, just prior to being put into the trailer, which was being moved in, in this picture.  

Gosh, it's quiet without them. 

Zoey loves her little fan.  We had hot weather again this week, but not as hot as 

three weeks ago. 

Then we were told that it would be in the eighties next week, and the sixties at night.  I just looked a short while ago, and now it reads "89" every day next week.  UGH.  I'm ready for cooler temps. 

Three of the young hens have begun laying in the dog house just to the left of my front door, on the porch.  They know how to squeeze out of the fence on "their" side at either end.  

Two are laying in the hospital pen high up off the ground in the old hen house.  I saw two eggs in their OWN house today, the first two all week.  

The morning glory vines are blooming clear across the big hen house pen. 

They are blooming inside the pen, too... there is Doug, the Killer Cotton Ball, styling for you. 

I literally cannot believe Susie has made it through the heat. 

She does not go outside very often now, though. 

She makes the sweetest little chittering noises, though... I will miss them when she is gone. 

If I talk to her, she "talks" back to me. 

A week ago, I took my co-worker at the Ag a dozen eggs.  

He forgot them there and they sat on the counter for four days. 

I retrieved them and hard-boiled them for the chickens.  I cut them up and do not bother to take the shells off, I just cut everything up together. 

They go nuts! 

Chickens going nuts. 

Cleo looks so evil in this picture! 

She is not, though, just a loner. 

She will let me stroke her now, and this is a HUGE step of trust for her. 

I feed her at the Little Red Hen House, which, though it's crumbling, is still sturdy enough for her. 

Now that the sheep are gone, I can go in and out of the pasture easier for the next few months. 

I rescued not one, but two baby meadowlarks from the cats this week, one from Bully and one from Coco. 

This one, I put in the brooder pen in the old hen house, where it was quiet and dim. 

I checked an our later, and it was gone safely.  I was so glad.  The other took off and flew over the house. 

I agree with James Herriott, that quiet and dark can do wonders for a stressed out animal or bird. 

Mama began sleeping every night in the chair where Jack had slept.  I keep automatically looking down at it as I get to the door.  I still hold out hope, as she was feral before coming here.  

I'll let you know next week if I find her.