Pets are ruling the roost

Anthony Radford | Bendigo Weekly | 09-Sep-2011

«
I am merely the staff of her menagerie
»

A couple of horses, a few cats and two lambs, but to me it’s a mess of a menagerie 

IT is now official.I

I’m animal crackers.

Gone are the peaceful sleep-ins and nights of sleep.
Last week I told the tale of the loss of Harry the tabby cat, and recently I covered the saga of the orphan lambs.
I have no other life bar the demands of the four-legged friends.
It all starts at around 5.30am as the lambs decide it’s time for milk.
Never mind the fact they have been grazing for 24 hours, milk is what they want.
Lamb Chop has discovered a swift 10 kicks to the front door draws my attention and high volume bleating does the rest.
All of the old time farmers say just wean them, but I can’t ignore their expectant faces, the lambs that is, not the farmers.
Walking around the paddock is a nightmare.
I am attacked from all angles by the two of them.
The two paddock-wrecking hay burners, in other words the horses, are minor glitches in my day as I struggle with a hay bale while being attacked by lambs.
It’s the last straw (ha ha).
It’s down to a fine art now when I get home from a hard day at the Weekly.
Get out of the car, dodge the lambs, fill the water troughs on the way in, warm the milk, get the hay for the horses, dodge the lambs, turn the horse water off, grab the milk, feed the lambs. Collapse.
Then it’s time to feed the cats, let some in some out, select the chicken and rice flavour for some and the sea fish and rice for others, make sure there is water in the bath and shower tray because the Birman cat and the new British Shorthair won’t drink from a bowl.
Then I make up the next mixture for the lambs in the morning and stop. Thank goodness, stop.
Then Princess the white long-haired cat chases Winston the new boy around the house, just because she is a bully and feels she can.
She has never been the same since she appeared as Miss January 2011 in the Pets Haven calendar.
She has illusions of grandeur that we can’t shake.
The fact she came from a cat rescue centre as unwanted does not seem to enter into her thought pattern.
She can’t be told.
All of this madness is fully supported by the long-suffering Dr Kendall, who not only brings the new beasts home but actively encourages their precocious behaviour at my cost.
I am merely the staff of her menagerie.
This time of year I have to make up the wood fire so the cats can lounge around and be warm while we head off to work so we can afford to buy more hay, cat food and the like.
Our cats also have heated pads for their days outside. Comfy even in winter.
The lambs’ favourite place is sitting on the verandah on woolly carpet offcuts.
Thankfully, lambs don’t understand the irony of it.
Nick at work points out at least the lambs will taste nice, but no way is that going to happen.
How could we possibly turn Piglet into cutlets, and Lamb Chop into well... lamb chops. No way.
So they live in the lucky land of the Kendalls.
At Animal Crackers Hobby Farm.
TLPB - selling now

Comment





Captcha Image