And I don't mean the elk this time...
One week ago I was allowed to start feeding the sheep again. I've missed being able to do things around the barn since having had my back surgery last June. As funny as it sounds, but I'm sure many other sheep-people would agree, most days I would rather be outside with the sheep, garden, tinkering around the barn, etc., than stuck inside, unless I'm spinning or weaving or doing some other fun activity. (I must remember to tell myself this when we have three feet of snow on the ground and it's biting cold outside.)
I tried moving some empty feed bags in the barn when I saw them...the first tell-tale signs I again had unwelcome visitors in the barn. Mice. The first hint of cold weather here and we get mice heading into the barn for warmth and food. Drat! Now, we have all sorts of nasty things in this area: West Nile Virus, Africanized bees, assorted snakes, and Hanta Virus carried by the likes of the vermin trying to live in my barn. At the first signs of their presence I verbally post a Declaration of War on them. It has begun and I'm out for blood.
Yesterday, I went into town to run errands and while I was there, picked up new traps to set for the mice. Last evening, I baited the traps and set them in areas I thought I had seen the little buggers in. Voila! This morning I had caught five of the wee beasties. Before I transported said DMBs (Dead Mouse Bodies) to the back fence line, I noticed Nosey Josie keeping a close watch to see if I would drop any.
As you may recall, Josey is the Speckled Sussex hen I have with a taste for occasional oddity in her diet. So I offered her one of the mice. This time, she just looked at me as if to ask, "What? You want me to eat a BIG one? No way! I like the small ones."
Picky, picky, picky...
Shadow says, "Raspberries! Just invite them inside here, Mom...we'll take care of them for you!"