We worked hard at the deception, including driving some 100 km in 35+C heat, but it worked a charm: our little white wonder, the silkie hen Portia, had lost her black companion Ellen through a sudden illness (impacted crop), mourned a lot then went broody and sat for weeks on empty nests...
Bianca searched far and wide for a replacement black silkie, but everyone seemed to have just the white ones (racism at work here?), until the other day she found an Asian woman living in the sticks who was prepared to let her have a black one for $A 40.
Done deal. Today we drove off, got lost for an hour in the mountains near Taree but eventually found the place.
I've never ever seen animals kept in such shocking manner: little wire cages in the blazing sun, with plastic containers serving as nest boxes.... enough.
We grabbed a small black one from the first cage, paid the agreed price ($A40, even though the man said he was reducing the price to just $A 30 because demand for silkies had collapsed), and raced home with the poor little 'rescued' victim...
We got home at 5p.m. - three hours after we'd set out - and I placed the new silkie in the hen house to get accustomed to the place. Against Bianca's advice, but following my instincts, I let the new 'Ellen' out almost immediately: she raced toward the green grass first and gorged herself, then started exploring the new neighbourhood.
The white silkie Portia duly inspected her and showed her who's boss, then the rooster came and showed her she was now part of HIS flock, and a few other hens came and casually checked her out but accepted her as the long-lost 'Ellen'.
We drank a bottle of Jen Pfeiffer's lovely little bubbly to celebrate the success of our deception, and at night 'Ellen' duly hung around the hen house waiting for her turn to join the others.
I told Bianca biology would 'pull' the newcomer into joining the flock on the roosting timbers but she did NOT believe me (as usual).
While waiting for dinner (lamb chops with black beans and a vegetable cassoulet type of dish, excellent with a glass of red), we waited for the moment 'Ellen' would join her new family.
Which eventually she did: and even Bianca was amazed to see 'Ellen' squeezed tightly between blind Honey and old silkie Portia!
Looks like she's even willing to accept a name, even 'Ellen', as the price for a totally new life, in freedom.
Welcome to Clod 9, 'Ellen' !
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------.
PostScript: That was three days ago. Last night an incredible thing happened! At 9:30 pm I heard a shriek that I immediately identified as coming from 'Ellen'.
I jumped from our bed, stark naked, and raced toward the chook house, with a strong headlamp (thanks Fenix!) strapped to my head.
I saw my beautiful big python wrapped tightly around my lovely new silkie 'Ellen', trying to choke her, break her ribs or tear portions out of her body.
Without thinking, I grabbed the python's head - too low so she had ample opportunity to bite me in 7 places! - and uncoiled the strong snake from the now silent victim.
I never knew pythons were THAT strong, but I managed to unwind the mortal coil from 'Ellen', placed her in a nest box hoping her ribs were intact, and proceeded to throw the python outside.
By now I was bleeding profusely so I went inside, washed the wounds with Marzetti Mother of Vinegar, and eventually put some iodine on the wounds.
I went to bed but sat wide awake, until Bianca decided SHE needed to have a look at the situation: she found 'Ellen' had somehow left the nest box and lay pressed against the inside of the chook house door - with the python snuggled up closely against her 'missed meal' on the outside!
So Bianca called me: this time I put on gum boots and took the snake grabber, then tightly held the python in its claws and dragged her away. I threw the lot over the relatively tight outside fence, and then encouraged her to slither away further from the scene.
Today, 'Ellen' does NOT remember a bit about the ordeal, left the chook house with the others as usual around 6:15 am to pasture, then when I got up at 10 to 8 and called her she immediately came upon being called!
A effing mazing!
On the strength of this success, I drove into town to get some ready mix concrete with the help of daughter Giulia and the grandchildren, and drove home a new man...
Saluti a tutti!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PostScript II: Punctually at 9:30 last night, the python was back at the hen house door, wriggling its head into a narrow slit that might let it penetrate the 'fortress'.
I staggered out upon Bianca's command - slightly inebriated from celebrating with Giulia and kin - and grabbed the python once more tightly with the snake grabber.
It slid out of its fangs enough to free its head, then pulled the long body free - almost! I held on tight to the tail, dragged it quickly to a boundary fence and repeated the airborne transport manoeuvre...
I then shone the full power of the twin-lamp new Fenix on to the python and encouraged it to flee further into the bush to avoid the glare. Let's hope the lesson has been learnt this time!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PostScript III: I was up a lot last night, mixing our daily sourdough bread, looking outside to admire a tiny brush-tailed possum no bigger than two stacked fists as it tried to grab some grain from the tightly-closed feed box, then getting up again at around 2 a.m. to knead the dough and place it in the tins, and getting up yet again at 5:40 a.m. to switch on the oven so we could bake it while having brekkie... 'nuff said! It was a long night... But NO snake this time!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I better start a new chapter, Snake Watch Two:
This morning (28/1/19) my beautiful python lay at the bird watering trough and drank incessantly!
I saw it as I sat down for breakfast at 6:05 a.m. and had to dash out to watch it closely. The python just drank and drank - it must have been desperate...
Eventually it dragged itself away but could not muster the strength to get up the slight incline into the bush, so just lay there halfway and rested.
But when I got up from my post-brekkie snooze, at around 8 a.m., it was nowhere to be seen...
Back to the full alert at the chook house!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And just as well, our lovely monster python must have been missing the company of the silkies: we were alerted in the morning by an unusually circumspect silkie Portia, who snuck into the hen house a few times to fulfill a newly-awakened female need - she had to posit an egg!
Mini-rooster Paddy had courted her quite determinedly over the preceding few days...
We inspected the hen house carefully but saw no sign of Pytha - until I inspected the old log beside which tiny Ellen had laid her eggs in the few days until then. And there was the python, peeking out carefully from the hollow!
Now strategy had to be used: I cut up some small-mesh chicken wire and secured it to the opposite end of the log, then the noise prompted Pytha to sneak out the other end! By then I had shushed Ellen into the adjacent chicken run and then I quickly nailed another piece of mesh to Pytha's escape hole while she (?) attempted to climb up an adjacent paperbark tree.
I grabbed her with the implement and dragged her to the fence, intending to throw her over again. But pythons can be proud adversaries: she wriggled loose and snuck through the wider-meshed boundary fence by herself.
So far we haven't seen her again - and already I miss her LOL
Bianca will now join me on the verandah for some Aussie bubbly (Molly's Cradle NV Cru from Naked Wines, for those whose curiosity remains unquenched). Might even grab a slice of the beautiful soft and unsalty Norwegian salmon she bought for me in town yesterday...
FINAL Postscript: I realise this is getting too wordy a yarn, so I'll cut right here. Anyway, it's only our immediate family who - sometimes - enjoy my rantings at blogspot.com!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment