The two brown hens can be relied upon to scamper to my feet in welcome, as if they want to remind me that I'm not alone; they even stoop at my feet so I can pet them, which I sometimes do. But it's not the same. I recognize that they are smart and have personality, but they are chickens and I'm a dog person. A dog person without a dog.
Yet, the absence of farm dog has changed the nature of the landscape. Farm dog did more than trot happily off-leash around the property; he pretty much patrolled the land. He chased away birds and squirrels and ferreted out other four-legged intruders whether they be mice, rabbits or the occassional possum. It was also well-documented that he barely tolerated the visiting sheep. So with the exception of the two hens, this was a one-animal property for more than two years, and farm dog was top dog.
But now spring has sprung and life, and that means wild-life is encroaching on what was once unsafe territory. Last week, two mallards meandered around under the four cedar trees. A few days later, two Canada geese took a break in the backyard. I spied two jack-rabbits playing tag by the granary. Down by the water, I spent a half hour rapt in the sound of an avian symphony rising from the dried reeds and catttails. And, shortly after leaving the shoreline, a ringneck pheasant stepped into my place. And then, just yesterday as I took a book break out back, my concentration was broken by incesant nibbling from this one...
...and so the brown hens are correct. I'm not alone. I'm surrounded by creation, which is a good place for a "creative" type to be. I still miss farm dog...but it would appear, at least among the creatures who inhabit Four Cedars, I'm the only one.
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