Anyone who knows me has heard, at great length, exactly how I feel about rain. Especially the copious quantities that we’ve gotten in the last few days. On the other hand, I’ve always wanted to have a duck pond, so the rain has at least one bright side. Our backyard is so flooded that the ducks can actually swim around. It’s hard to be depressed, no matter how hard the rain comes down, when everywhere I look there’s a happily cavorting duck swimming and splashing about.
Christmas, on the other hand, is less than impressed with her new lakefront property. Even though the floor of the turkey chalet is elevated, the ground is so sodden that her bedding gets drenched, no matter how many times a day I put new wood chips down. Apparently the water is coming up through the wooden pallet and rubber mat, which doesn’t surprise me, seeing as the water level is up over the top of my muck boots. Now I feed her inside her chalet, so she can eat in peace (turkey chow is Woolimina’s favorite meal) and then let her out again so she can bed down in the new warm and toasty alpaca cabana. Gene is going to drag the entire turkey chalet onto higher ground with the rhino, which should be a fun process. I think it would be easier to just shove a pontoon under it and turn her abode into a houseboat.
You know the weather sucks when not even Harvey wants to venture out in it. After spending three days stuck inside the bunny ranch, I opened the door today during a break in the storm. He ventured out for a few hours, then hopped back home when it started raining again. He spent most of his time on the deck, treating my potted plants like his own personal buffet. His other favorite pastime during inclement weather is hopping through the chicken’s winter enclosure; I think he likes seeing them squawk and scatter. The chickens spend most of their time there, occasionally venturing out into the rain if they hear me come out onto the deck. Apparently their love of treats trumps their hatred of rain, because if I brave the monsoon they’ll still come running. Naturally I feel compelled to make sure I bring an extra special snack, since they’re getting rained on and all.
The inside critters, much like their mama, have spent most of their time lounging around on the couch napping in front of the wood stove. Ceri, the German Shepherd, got spayed last week, so she’s rocking a cone of shame right now. Since it’s approximately the size of a satellite tv dish, she constantly knocks over drinks, chairs, and end tables. On one particularly memorable occasion, she scooped up Charlie the kitten in it. Unfortunately Ceri quickly learned the one benefit of wearing the cone is her ability to traumatize sleeping cats with it. There’s nothing like hearing a giant cone beast chasing a herd of five cats while knocking over chairs to remind you that you do, indeed, live in a zoo.