The Beginning of Turkey Problems

Brandon and I were relaxing in the hot tub last night, recovering from a mad rush to plant seventeen prickly rose bushes dug up from a friends yard, when we noticed that the dog was interested in something in the dark lawn.  What is that white thing?  It was Turkey!  Sleeping on the ground in the middle of the back yard.  In my bathrobe and flip flops, I captured Turkey and carried it to the coop and locked the door.  I hope this isn't the beginning of Turkey problems.  Until now, Turkey has put itself back to bed with the chickens each night.   Carrying a turkey is harder than carrying a chicken.  Not only is it bigger and heavier, but it's legs are strong and when it kicks, it's nails are sharp enough to scratch through a bathrobe.  

Have you noticed how many bloggers have stopped blogging?  Maybe this is an old fashioned sort of story sharing compared to tweetering and instagramering.  Or maybe the bloggers I like to read can only tell so many stories about their donkeys before they start to feel like they are repeating themselves.  I feel that sometimes, like my stories are cyclic like the seasons.  

But each new baby goat is unique!  Like Nibs, learning to eat grass with his mother.  I've noticed that the baby goats sample the vegetation straight from their mothers mouth.  If they see one of the other goats eating something, then they want some too.  I think they are learning.  

This is Nibs with his head stuck in the fence.  The kind of fencing we used has smaller holes near the bottom, and bigger holes near the top, and its advertised as goat fencing.  It works to keep little goats from sticking their heads through to eat grass near the bottom, but it didn't stop Nibs from jumping up and sticking his head through the top so he could get closer to me.  Thankfully I was there to help him thread those little horns back through.  I hope he learned not to do that, because I'm nervous now to come home and find that he's been stuck out in the sun, hanging from his horns.