SPUR OF THE MOMENT

..Or Napoleon takes my bones apart!

  ONE of my animals has attacked me and I am in a state of shock. Not because of the viciousness and unrelenting nature of the assault but because of the perpetrator.
 I half expected in an unguarded moment I might be rammed or butted by one of the sheep, or that Jack the gander might suddenly turn on me now that he has managed to scare off everyone else who comes within his eye line. I even thought Ant or Dec, or both, could one day launch an assault on me when I least expected it because turkeys are unpredictable creatures.
 But never for one moment did I expect Napoleon to turn on me, but turn he did using his razor sharp spurs with the deftness and skill of a Samurai swordsman. My left hand now looks like something on a butcher's chopping board as you can see from the series of picture below.

TAKE THAT - palm

AND THAT - below small
finger

AND THAT - thumb

 It all began when I noticed Edwina, one of the cuckoo-coloured Scots Dumpys had developed a limp and as I moved closer I could see she had a clip of some sort attached to her leg which needed to be removed as she was obviously in mild distress. I merely bent down to scoop her up and Napoleon emitted a weird screech and charged straight at me.
 Knocking Edwina out of my hands he then set about in three quick moves to slash and stab my skin using both spurs as he drop kicked me Kung Fu-style. It was like a scene from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and it really hurt causing me to emit a large, ungodly howl followed by several expletives I thought I'd long forgotten.

 The good news is I removed the plastic clip causing Edwina the pain but the bad news is my left hand has swollen and two of my fingers can barely bend. I ran the wound under a running tap and wiped it with an antiseptic cream but it is very painful. I reflected on what had happened because you can't take these things personally ... or I'd be having roast chicken for dinner tonight!
 But, as Alpha male in the hen pen, Napoleon was not being predatory but simply over protective towards Edwina who was already in some distress when I went to do my Good Samaritan act.
 In future I will always keep an eye out for Napoleon as well as the two other cockerels Jumpin' Jack and Horatio before stepping in to the hen pen and I'll try to remember to wear a pair of leather gloves.
 I usually wander around with a large stick but I put it down as I knelt to pick up Edwina.

 And I guess I will always remember the relationship I have with my animals ... we're not friends as much as I would like to be. I'm simply the person who comes around with the food and tries to look after their welfare. It is quite obvious after what happened today that only one individual can rule the roost and that is Napoleon who, I've noticed, is imposing his will more and more on the rest of the hens. If there's an outbreak of bullying he wades straight in and stops potential flare ups and he's always there to keep the other two cockerels in check. He's also taken to growling while prowling as the video clip shows.
 If something similar has happened to you, or if I'm handling this the wrong way, please give me your feedback.

INVASION OF THE EGG SNATCHERS

 Another case for 'B' ... Jedburgh's CSI

RAT SNATCHERS: Painting by Igor Maykov

 AN INTRIGUING series of events has rather focussed our attention these last few days - every morning a part digested egg has been found in the rear yard. Two contained the fully formed embryos of what looked like tiny turkeys while another couple of crushed shells simply could've come out of the hen pen and contained nothing more than traces of yolk.

 Since I collect daily from the hens I ruled out foul play from the pen but wondered where else the hens eggs had come from and who was the culprit and where did the turkey ones come from? And even though I'm still reeling from the last badger visit, I knew Old Brock couldn't be blamed this time round purely because he wouldn't have left any evidence. A fox would've scoffed the turkey embryo while perhaps leaving a few fragments of shell. Then I remembered a story I'd been told a few weeks back, I thought it was an urban myth, but it is perfectly illustrated in the charming picture above right by Latvian artist Igor Maykov. There was nothing else to do I simply had to call in the countryside crime buster, Jedburgh's equivalent of CSI Miami's 'H' aka Horatio Caine. It's a wonder 'B' hasn't gone ex-directory as every other day there's seems to be a murder-style mystery to be solved on the farm but like most folk in the Scottish Borders he's happy to oblige when we struggling townies get out of our depth.

ANOTHER EMPTY EGG SHELL: But no trail or other
clues between it and the stable door in the background

 And so local gamekeeper 'B' duly arrived, surveyed the scene you can see on the right and scratched his head. He paced up and down and walked in and out of the stable several times - it was empty apart from the surrogate Turkey mum. I told him how I collected the hens eggs everyday and since the nesting boxes are all off the ground it would be too difficult for a rat raid, especially in broad daylight.

 He asked about the broody turkey and how many eggs she was sitting on. I told him I didn't know as they were due to hatch any day and she wouldn't let me near her. I told him that she had originally started sitting on her own eggs but I'd replaced them with pot eggs and then changed them to hens eggs. And then, when my other turkey was killed by the fox I'd transferred those eggs to her so she was sitting on a mixture of turkey and hen eggs. The penny dropped, sort of, as I said that.

SILENT WITNESS: The

surrogate turkey.

 Working out all the machinations 'B' said there were several scenarios but that all of the egg shells I'd found came from the same source ... underneath the turkey pictured above left. The real mystery is how they came to land 20 feet away in the yard.

 'B' reckons either several rats baited the turkey during the night and while one distracted her attention to leave the nest the others snatched an egg and rolled it away across the yard to eat. Or the turkey, herself, is separating dud or infertile eggs from the batch which are then being picked up by the opportunistic rodents.

RAT:  Charged, tried and found
guilty in absentia 

 Hens and turkeys will do this if they sense an egg is infertile or if there's something wrong with the developing chick inside. This could explain the near fully-formed eggs we found the other day. I do hope this doesn't mean all of the turkey eggs are duds after their courageous Bourbon Red mum paid the blood price for protecting her nest against a fox recently.

 Time will tell - as for the egg snatchers ... that's another mystery to solve. He-who-should-be-obeyed-but-rarely-is has some detective work of his own to do to track down and get rid of these pests.
 And wouldn't it be great if he set up a web cam or infrared night camera up in the yard to catch the thieves in action. There's a great deal going down here but sadly most of it happens when I'm fast asleep.

A NEW RECRUIT

..And then there were four (ish)

 THE goose patrol has resumed its duties
and there's a new recruit as you can see from
this video to the right.
 The turkeys got a little too close for Jack's liking while the subversive sheep looked on rather bemused.
 We now need a name for this new addition but please bear in mind it's going to take some months before we establish the sex of the gosling.
 Please send your suggestions in the comment section - many thanks.

FEATHERS FLY IN FIRST CLASS DRAMA

.. Or the last post?

POSTIE'S DILEMMA: Geese & turkeys cause

a kerfuffle with the Royal Mail

 I BET Postman Pat never faced the challenges thrown at the heroic staff who run a first class delivery service in the Scottish Borders.
As you can see the picture on the right reveals a sorry tale of several failed attempts to deliver my letters because of the antics of Jack the Gander and some turbulent turkeys!
The regular Royal Mail male has learned to work around the birds delivering letters by stealth but when he took a week off I don't think his stand-in was prepared for the daily onslaught.
 Unlike most couriers who are ambushed after leaving their vehicles, it seems my turkeys and the geese launched a full frontal offensive before the new postie even had a chance to step out  the mail van. Quite wisely the occupant decided to return the next day and then the next day ... and as you can see from the labels on the envelope it became a daily mission impossible.
 Some couriers are not as conscientious as the employees of the Royal Mail and I've found parcels flung in various bushes and corners while the deliverer beats a hasty retreat from badass Jack and the rest of the bird crew. Suddenly the need to obtain a signature loses its importance in the face of a hostile Bourbon Red.
 While most of the UK's long-suffering posties have to contend with canine capers anyone heading down my drive way can expect an encounter of a different kind.
 Apart from the fact it's the mating season and the ganders and turkey stags are unusually aggressive there's also a great deal of tension in the air because any day now we're expecting the geese and turkey eggs to hatch. As most expectant mums can vouch, tempers do get frayed towards the end and female mammals are not the only ones affected by last minute nerves.
Now I have some good news and some bad news for the postal staff in this district - the good news is once Spring is sprung we can all resume a normal service. The bad news is if all eggs hatch then we could see an additional 20 geese and up to 15 turkeys roaming freely.
 * By the way, did I mention that I'm off on another training course this weekend ... for would-be bee keepers? I wonder how our delivery folk feel about winged honey-gatherers?

                                                                                                                                      

TREAD CAREFULLY THE TURKEYS ARE COMING

.. Or may be not!

ANT & DEC have spent most of their days parading around the grounds puffing out their chests, fanning their feathers and generally posing making a two second gasping sound like air escaping quickly from a tyre in between the more familiar 'turkey gobble' noises they also emit.
 The whole point of having such a grand array of feathers is to attract the female of the species but these two appear to be so obsessed with each other it's almost as though they're joined at the hip.

ANT & DEC: best friends forever?

Occasionally they fall out and embark on some awful clashes (see video at bottom of this post) but no one ever emerges as the alpha male and the spats are quickly forgotten as they resume their vanity strolls with their four females following closely behind.
 Of course now that Spring is in the air there's all sorts of other activities breaking out as the garden birds start to sing and perform in front of their female counterparts, the geese have laid eggs and while one nest has been abandoned two of the geese seem determined to produce goslings.

Turkey troubles: The ubiquitous baster!

Drawing reproduced with kind permission

of Scott Kroll from 

http://kingcrowcomics.blogspot.co.uk/

 As discrete as the geese have been in the act of mating, Ant and Dec suddenly appear to have discovered their purpose in life and have started pursuing their Bourbon Red ladies with open enthusiasm. Turkey mating is euphemistically called 'treading' to those in the know and the Stags have certainly been treading ... at every available opportunity. The female usually sits down and then the male turkey does his thing, but after observing Ant and Dec close up, they look as though they're only giving their opposite numbers a massage by foot and they look as though they're trampling and not treading. I do hope you don't see me as some sort of Peeping Tom character lurking behind the bushes watching turkeys tread but it is important to establish if the eggs that they are laying are fertilised or not. The reason for my concern is that a couple of local friends dropped by and could shed little light on the matter other than to say most turkey breeders use artificial insemination and have special breeding rooms for the purpose. The conversation suddenly gave new meaning to the ubiquitous turkey baster and I could see my grand plans to breed the best Bourbon Reds in the Borders disintegrate. I recalled reading an article about how obese turkeys were unable to mate naturally and so most mass producers employ someone in a breeding unit to "milk" the stags before inseminating the female turkeys. Yes, I know, I also want to pull out my eyeballs and scrub them clean in the shower. I have no idea how it's done and nor do I have any desire to find out, suffice to say there's a lot to be said for organic and traditional farming methods but of course it's no use keeping turkeys if they don't know how to tread!

 I asked the local gamekeeper if he'd observed any treading while wandering about (yes, these are the sort of conversations in which we country folk indulge) and he said he had, to which I then asked about technique and did he think my stags were just standing on the females or were they actually doing something. He seemed quite perplexed by my line of questioning and said "treading is treading and they were treading." Moving swiftly on I waited until another friend happened by and I told her my dilemma. She laughed and said: "Turkeys are very dull. It's all over in seconds and if you blink you'll miss it and that's probably why you've not seen anything."

 Anyway, I'm none the wiser but I guess I will just have to let Nature take its course and hope the eggs are fertile. Now the problem is the nesting boxes I've made for the turkeys are empty so far and I have a feeling any eggs have been laid outside, somewhere.

 I'm going to have to spend the next few days stalking the damned birds to find out where they're stashing their eggs and remove them to a friend of mine who has an incubator. There are just some things I'm not prepared to leave to chance!