Fluffy Bottomed Mr Flowers

When the Duke of Kupa (my first big peacock) – was sick in that terrible winter – was it 2018? – his tail feathers stopped growing. The Duke died of pneumonia and because it was the middle of the worst winter I ever experienced out here. The ground was frozen solid. As hard as glass.

I had to fold his beautiful body into a plastic bag and store him in the freezer until I could bury him with honors. I never told anyone. Our John would have been appalled. His family would have laughed at me. But there you are. Sometimes secrets are necessary to protect your own sanity.

Nothing felt right about losing that great big beautiful bird.

So, I have to admit to breathing a sigh of relief when I see Mr Flowers fluffy bottom. A healthy peacock growing his winter feathers back in is both comical and promising.

Two forlorn tail feathers from his last molt have stubbornly refused to detach so he looks more disheveled than usual. But his new feathers are coming through fast.

Tima

Tima spends most of her day out on the big fields eating the red clover cover crop.

If she goes anywhere near the white chickens Boo runs her off. This is not good for their relationship (to be fair they don’t have much of a relationship) but the chick fence is a bit rickety, using smoke and mirrors to keep the chickens corralled, so it is best that Tima does not know how easy it would be to break in and eat all their food!

Big Jude

Big Jude and FreeBee are back in the big field. Probably for the winter now.

I know they only stay behind their fences out of habit. They could easily take those fences apart. They spend most of their time laying about in the barn anyway. This last week has been hot.

Hay

The boys banded together and slung all the hay into the barn for me yesterday. I thought I would have more time to help but The Matriarch needed extra care yesterday too. I guess this situation in town will keep changing. I am developing enormous respect for caregivers of the elderly.

Every battle she and I (as her handmaiden) encountered before focused on rehabilitation – grief, broken hips, knees replaced and covid etc. it was all about getting better. We set goals and worked together towards her independence.

This feels like we take one step up and two back down every day.

Night Walks

My night walks have become a source of great solace.

Once everyone – including the humans – are all tucked up and safe in their beds – Boo and I walk out into the night, blending in with the dark. If anyone was watching we would be there one second and gone the next. But no one is watching.

As we walk I feel my whole self tick and clink back into place like cooling metal.

My body becomes mine again.

BooBoo and I become a cat and an owl and move with the night. (Now there’s a story just waiting to be writ).

Have a lovely day.

Celi