ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING

..the turkeys are revolting plus other mixed news from the birds

MISSING: After a ruck with the geese

 ELVIS, the little quail who found a home in my handbag and a way into the hearts of folk in a Jedburgh post office queue, has disappeared without trace. I left him basking in the sunshine with food and water by the back door while I went to find a book before joining him. After a few minutes I heard an almighty racket from the geese and dashed outside to be confonted

WAITING GAME: broody turkey's patience

could soon pay off

with an upturned miniature water bowl as the gander Jack scoffed the last remnants of Elivis's corn.  The quail had scarpered and has been Missing In Action ever since despite exhaustive searches of the immediate area. Jack, a bully by nature, was looking a little coy although totally unmoved by my distress.
 This now means two of my birds are MIA - a turkey went wandering off nearly two months ago and hasn't been seen since. I keep hoping she'll reappear with a clutch of little ones but that over optimistic view is fast fading with each day.
 Meanwhile the broody turkey who has been sitting on everyone else's eggs for the last two months may finally become a mum in her own right ... well, sort of. A good friend of mine who was touched by her plight brought six fertile turkey eggs for her to sit on and they're due to hatch next week. I forget what breed they are but it is quite clear she will not budge until she has hatched some chicks.
 The only other way of getting a turkey or hen out of its broody mood is by plunging the creature in a bucket of cold water and, as inconvenient as broody poultry can be at times, there's no way I'm going to do that.

MADGE: Playing the waiting game

 On the hen front, another of my Scots Dumpys has turned broody and she's sitting on seven eggs though I confess I slipped in a quail's egg to see if it will hatch. I've moved Madge - one of the Isle of Wight hens - into her own box where she won't be bothered by the others although I do try and make her exercise and walk around for atleast 10 minutes a day.

SAD DAY AT THE DOVECOT: Three fantails

remain

 Scots Dumpy eggs are notoriously difficult to hatch because of a lethal gene which means a high number will fail to develop after a few days. But I'm hopeful we'll see some of Madge's offspring later this month.
 In the meantime I've some upsetting news from the Dovecot where my four fantails have been residing. One was found dead this morning inside with no apparent injuries or signs of distress. Another death, another mystery but the other three seem fit and well. The nets are off now and they seem happy with their new home.
 And there's more grief on the turkey front - Ant & Dec, previously joined at the hip are no longer BFF. War has broken out and the pair are inconsolable; they've had their squabbles before and I've been known to wade in and separate the two but this time the rivalry has overtaken their friendship.
 No longer can their turkey gobbles be heard in unison - instead I've had to put them in different pens after the last fight drew blood on both sides. As you can see from the video to the left a truce is unlikely which, because of practicalities, leaves us with no other choice than to to make a choice between the two.
 He-who-should-be-obeyed-but-rarely-is can sort out that problem for me and may be my mum will get a halal turkey on her next visit.

I hope that doesn't sound callous but it's been nearly two years now since I moved to the Scottish Borders and in that time making unpleasant decisions has become just one of the harsh realities of countryside life. As usual any advice is most welcome.

WARNING: BARBARIAN AT WORK

.. Or bringing a touch of Algeria to the Borders

  MY husband is a Barbarian. No, he really IS a Barbarian. Born in some remote mountain village in the Berber region of Algeria, he often talks with a great fondness about his birthplace and the centuries-old traditions which have come to define the people who live there.

DANGER: Barbarian at work

 So when we moved to the Borders he said he would feel quite at home and put into practice some of the ways of his village. This actually filled me with dread in case he was expecting me to get up at 5am every day, milk a herd of goats, make a round of cheese and bake a dozen loaves of bread while collecting the wood, lighting the fires and getting the breakfast ready for the man of the house ... and all before 8am. That's what he reckons Algerian women in his village do, anyway.
 For the past few days he has disappeared off into the wood and apart from the noise of the chainsaw, tree branches snapping and other timber-like sounds I've not bothered to find out exactly what he's been up to focussing more instead on becoming a bee keeper. It's still some weeks away before I get my first colony but I want to make sure I am well prepared for the new arrivals.

  FOX-proof fence                       

 So imagine my surprise today when I went to see for myself what was occupying hubby's time. It turns out he has been building a fox-proof barrier to protect the turkeys, should they want to try nesting outside again. OK, so it's not Hadrian's Wall but it is an environmentally friendly version of a dry stone wall and it's a mega impressive structure.

 As you can see from the pictures the base is built with an intricate weave of tiny branches he snapped off from the lower trunks of trees and as the wall gets taller the size of the branches become thicker and stronger. They have been reclaimed from storm damaged trees on the forest floor. It's quite amazing, I'm sure you will agree. He proudly says the design is Algerian and will enable tiny creatures like mice and voles to pass through while blocking the path of our enemies Mr Fox and Old Brock.

 He also reckons birds will be drawn like magnets during the nesting season and his wall will become a host to all sorts of wildlife while repelling the predators who've made our lives such a misery these last few weeks. Regular visitors to this blog know the pain we've endured following the loss a nesting goose and turkey. Should you want to build a similar barrier I am sure my husband will be happy to advise and give some tips on how make such a structure. I'd also love to hear your feedback as well.

 I may even show the design to SNP leader Alex Salmond should, in the event of Scotland being blessed with independence, he wants a cost effective and environmentally friendly version of the Roman Wall built to keep out the neighbours south of the Borders!

TURKEY TRAGEDY FORCES RE-THINK

.. AS VIXEN STRIKES

  THE clumps of feathers told me all I needed to know.  It's happened again. Another tragedy and more loss of life but this time the villain was not a badger but a fox ... a vixen with hungry cubs to feed - and before all you townies go "aaaah, cute" with a bit of luck she will have carried out her last kill by dawn tomorrow.
 As regulars of Soho2Silo know, I'm still reeling from the badger attack which took out a goose and her entire clutch of eggs last week and while I agonised over what I could do about the turkey who chose to set up a secret nest near the hen pen (http://soho2silo.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/nature-or-nurture.html) I did nothing. I decided to leave it to Nature and now there are self-recriminations.

TELL TALE SIGNS: The clumps of feathers reveal tragedy

 The unfortunate goose from Sweden was called Queenie but my poor slain turkey didn't even have a name. She was one of the Three Degrees, a trio of Bourbon Reds I bought from a farm in North Yorkshire.
 In the meantime some dear friends bought me an incubator and while I was tempted to take the turkey's eggs hubby pleaded with me to let her continue and so she did until the early hours of this morning. And no, I'm not blaming he-who-should-be-obeyed-but-rarely-is and in truth he is just as upset as me at the loss of more stock because we are fond of them all.
 My bedroom overlooks the scene of the crime but since I have taken to going to bed listening to BBC Radio 4 on an evening to drown out the noise of the clog dancers who inhabit the attic (more about them another time) I heard nothing.
 This morning I called in my own CSI expert and he surveyed the scene for around half an hour and went off down a bankside leading on to a river. When he returned he gave me his assessment.
 The killer was a vixen who, judging from the clumps of feathers around the nest site, had struggled to rip the Bourbon Red turkey from her nest. He says it was a vixen because a dog fox would have eaten his kill just a few yards away but this fox took the bird all the way to her lair where she would have fed her waiting cubs.

SURROGATE MUM:  Bourbon Red turkey
sits on a variety of eggs due to hatch next week

 He followed the trail of feathers through the woodland and down to the riverside, then along to a small hump-backed bridge, over a road and into some more woodland. By all accounts my turkey must have put up one hell of a struggle because of the clumps of feathers at various points en route. Delicate paw marks also revealed the sex of the fox.
 And there's more - the gamekeeper reckons she will be back and, if wanted, he will be lying in wait. I nodded vigorously. Unlike badgers, foxes are not a protected species and, as any farmer will tell you, they are a pest and should be shot on sight. No time for sentiment. I am not going to lose any more of my animals if I can help it.
 As usual, where there is death there is also hope of life. The eggs were left intact and I gathered them all up and shoved them under a turkey which is nesting in the stable. Her own eggs are in the incubator and at the moment she is sitting on a couple of abandoned goose eggs and half a dozen chicken eggs as well as a pot egg.

NEST EGG: The start of another turkey nest

 I don't know if the eggs left behind by her sister  are still in a condition to hatch - only time will tell but whatever happens you will be among the first to know.
 And there's still more - the last of the Three Degrees has started laying eggs in her own secret nest very close to the house. The gamekeeper has advised that as soon as she starts sitting on her batch of eggs I should intervene and move them all into the stable where they will be safely locked up every evening. I am going to take his advice - at the moment I feel it is better to nurture rather than leave it to Nature.
 What do you think?

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.

EVERY CLOUD

.. and hope still springs eternal

 THERE'S still an awful pall of gloom hanging in the air since the brutal demise of Swedish goose Queenie who steadfastly sat on a clutch of eggs through all weather in the hope of becoming a Mother Goose. Sadly, on the eve of them hatching, her plans were brought to an abrupt end by at least one badger.
 But there's little time to dwell on death in the countryside and yesterday I was given a timely reminder of the hope which springs eternal courtesy of a tiny little ball of yellowish fluff seen in the video.
 I'm not sure what name to give him/her - yes, I
know I shouldn't give my animals names or get too attached to them but I am an accidental farmer and didn't sign up for producing livestock without becoming emotionally involved.
 Farmers might seem a cold, detached  bunch but from some of the private messages I've received, following the death of Queenie, it seems there are a number of great big softies out there who genuinely share my pain.
 To lovingly raise livestock only to have them cut down in their prime by pests like badgers and foxes is extremely frustrating.
 However, now I have to focus on the living and Jack and Vera still have a few more eggs left to hatch though I'm not sure if they're duds. Interestingly enough, when they take junior out for a stroll Bluebell, another Swedish goose, sits on the remaining clutch.
 The whole Queenie episode has really distressed her because the incident probably reminded Bluebell about her own near-death experience caused by a group of wild mink several years back. Her then owner nursed her around the clock and miraculously she survived. Unable to mate and lay her own eggs she now seems to have assumed a matronly role and is more than happy to help out Jack and Vera.

'BADGER HATES SOCIETY, AND INVITATIONS, AND DINNER, AND ALL THAT SORT OF THING,' Kenneth Grahame

.. And I no longer like him either

LIKE millions of kids, I was brought up on the Wind in the Willows childrens' classic by Scottish writer Kenneth Grahame which probably explains my romantic notions of the furry creatures who inhabit our countryside.
 Well my love affair with Mr Badger has now officially ended, quite dramatically and in tears. He is the prime suspect in a brutal slaying, a silent, ruthless killing machine which shows no mercy.
 This morning I went to visit Queenie, a beautiful Swedish goose of mine who has sat patiently for nearly a month on a clutch of around 10 eggs - not only had she vanished but the eggs had disappeared as well.
 With my limited knowledge of the countryside, I ruled out Mr Fox. Had it been him there would have been a right kerfuffle, lots of feathers and smashed eggs. This was not the case but there were very few other clues at the crime scene.
 I was going to call the local constabulary thinking the culprit may be human but
before bringing in the Old Bill, I picked up the phone to consult Jedburgh's answer to CSI Miami's Horatio Caine. As you can see from the 25 second video above there was very little to go on in terms of culprits and clues.
 Yet without the benefit of all the hi-tech kit and glamorous staff on hand to assist Caine, my man in combats had the whole crime sussed in under 30 minutes.
 Confirming what we knew already - no nest disturbance or fighting at the crime scene - he went off to search the surrounding area.
 And from what he discovered he deduced poor Queenie had been seized by an opportunist badger who dragged her off to a lair about 200 yards away and then killed her. He took me to the hollow under a tree where there were a few tell tale grey and white feathers which resembled the ones Queenie once sported. Badgers have immensely powerful jaws and this one left no other trace of my beautiful goose, given to me as a gift by a very good friend. Had she been 'done in' by a fox there would've been traces of rib cage and other non-chewable bones and debris, said my forensic expert.

QUEENIE: Tragic end

 Badgers also find eggs hard to resist and the silent killer would have returned to the nest to then devour all of the eggs and their contents thereby leaving very little trace of what had happened. As a protected species these creatures polarise opinion. This lot absolutely love the nocturnal villain: http://www.beautifulbritain.co.uk/htm/wildlife_gardening/badger_facts.htm as do folk like me brought up on stories from the pages of Wind in the Willows. However living in the country, trying to rear animals, has completely revised my opinion of Mr Badger and now I find myself at one with most of the farming community.
 The badger who attacked Queenie not only robbed me of a beautiful pet goose but he - and his accomplices - also destroyed any chance for the next generation of geese and her chance to be a Mother Goose.
 Apparently badgers are opportunistic so it is likely a terrible coincidence that they set about her just as the eggs were due to hatch. But I feel very angry and helpless and wonder what I could've done to prevent this from happening. The answer, in short, is nothing if I want my animals to roam freely.

SILENT KILLER: Badger like this one

killed by goose

 Unless I keep the livestock under lock down 24/7 I suppose they will be a target for predators. I've spent so much time and effort focussing on Mr Fox that I hadn't taken in to account the badgers - there are more than 50 setts within a mile radius of where I live in the Scottish Borders so I now need to pit my wits against a totally new predator ... within the confines of the law, of course.
 Any suggestions would be most welcome.
                                                                                            

SILO SNIPPETS

AS BUSY AS A BEE..

 Fantastic day today - not only have the geese at least two new additions and we've heard our first cuckoo (see previous Silo Snippets) but hubby and I are now fully trained up learner bee keepers after an amazing two-day course here: http://www.greystokecyclecafe.co.uk/Beekeeping.htm
 Now we just have to decide what sort of hive we go for - we're both very excited, in fact you could say we're buzzin'
 Full update coming soon.

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?

                                                                                                                                      

WHODUNNIT

.. Or an Eggciting mystery

 THE GEESE have been acting a tad weird in recent days, especially Jack the gander who has been more protective than normal when spotting strangers in the vicinity of the courtyard.
 And while the turkeys always get short shrift from the geese - think of rival American inner city street gangs -  there have been some barn-storming show downs in which the Geese, Jedburgh's feathered

GANGS OF ... Jedburgh?

version of the Los Angeles Crips have valiantly fought off any attempts by the turkeys (think Bloodz) to encroach on what they see as their territory.
 Bad Ass Jack and his three lady Crips are outnumbered by the six Bourbon Reds but the geese do have attitude and when the gander gets his dander up they are scary set of dudes.

 Anyway, I think you get the picture and when I say it has got worse it really is like a war zone out there at times. I put it down to the arrival of Spring and in some ways that's true.
 But it now emerges Spring has already Sprung in our neck of the woods because the geese have laid at least eight eggs and the numbers are rising by the day. This has created a great Whodunnit? because there are many questions unanswered and the plot thickens.
 After setting up a surveillance point I've tried to keep a close observation on the nesting site. I really need a pair of night vision goggles but he-who-should-be-obeyed-but-rarely-is has refused to buy a pair on the grounds that Muslims buying such equipment soon become the target of round-the-clock surveillance themselves!

NIGHT VISION: I can see clearly now

I keep telling him the Feds on this side of the Border are not as paranoid about Muslims as their English counterparts ... another good reason to vote YES in the forthcoming referendum, so I will probably go online and buy some myself.  What I have been able to establish so far is that the female geese each take it in turns to sit on the nest during the hours of dusk to dawn but I have no idea who is laying the eggs, if it was a group effort or even if Jack has  played a lead role in this production. I thought geese were monogamous which means, if that's the case, then only the eggs belonging to Vera will be fertile; but if Jack has been canoodling with Bluebell and Queenie the end result will be a cross between Swedish Ölandsgås and French Toulouse. 

 I'm calling a friend who may remove some and incubate them as geese are apparently terrible mums-to-be and lose interest very quickly. I do have a degree of sympathy because I can't think of anything worse than sitting on a nest for hours on end when there are far more interesting things to do. Sadly none of my hens have emerged as broody either, because that is another solution - a broody hen is worth her weight in gold as she'll incubate anyone's eggs.
 Anyway here is a 50 second mini film and like all the best Whodunnits? it opens with the scene of the crime:

SILO SNIPPET

 Guess who got some Easter eggs - yours truly from the geese Bluebell, Queenie & Vera. I can't believe they've been hiding them from me until now but there are at least eight and there could be more on the way ... no wonder Jack the Gander has been even more hostile to visitors than usual. Pictures coming soon.