Fighting pheasants

Don stepped out on the deck the other day, then called for me to join him and bring my camera. It seems two male pheasants were going at each other hammer and tongs.

The birds were across the road in a neighbor's field, so these photos are enlarged and cropped (in other words, not the clearest).

One bird was conspicuously larger than the other, so you know whose tail was getting thumped.

Still, to his credit, the smaller male wasn't backing down.

The fight went on and on, very dramatic at moments.

Honestly, it was almost exhausting to watch these warriors.

They fought for at least 10 minutes while we watched them, and probably longer since they were already fighting when Don spotted them.

Finally the smaller male gave up, and the larger bird chased him alllllll the way down the valley. I tell ya, both creatures must have been exhausted.

These aren't the only fighting pheasants we've seen. We've noticed at least two other pairs going at it.

Ah, spring, when a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. Or, in the case of pheasants, murdering one's rivals.

A partridge in a pear tree, Idaho style

I was just about to step outside onto the back porch the other day, when a movement caught my eye. A male pheasant flew into one of the apple trees in the driveway, and sat there apparently gobbling up an apple.

A partridge in a pear tree, Idaho style.

The private life of pheasants

One of the fun little things I like to do is sneak up to the gate in the barn and peek into the corral to see what kind of wildlife I can surprise. I've glimpsed all kinds of critters – deer, quail, pheasants, even an elk (outside the fence, not inside).

Yesterday I snuck up, peeked through the gate, and caught a handsome male pheasant engaged in a private moment preening his feathers.

What a handsome boy.

 Just one of those little pleasures of country life.

The magic of the forest chickens

Now that we have cows, we have cow plops. Big surprise.

Fillet, being an especially big girl, leaves especially big plops. Yet somehow, magically, each and every day these cow plops are flattened and spread out. In this manner they crumble and dry out quickly, and soon blend into the dirt of the corral.

At the moment, we don't have any chickens to accomplish this helpful miracle. How was it happening?

As it turns out, it was the magic of the forest chickens.

Early each morning, the forest chickens (otherwise known as pheasants) descend upon the corral and the richness of fresh overnight cow plops, and get to work.

One by one, they scratch their way through the cow plops, looking for insects or bits of seed, just like any domestic chicken would do.

I've caught as many as five at any one time, almost always early in the morning when I release the cows.

Just part of nature's clean-up crew. And, like any clean-up crew, they're very much appreciated.

Cows and fencing and water, oh my

Our bovines are settling in nicely. We've gotten into a routine, and they quickly learned to come to the "Bossy" call to get a bit of sweet COB (corn/oats/barley) each evening.

Here's Maggie, peeking over the edge of the deck.

Mignon nursing off her mama Filet.

Right now they're restricted to the area below the house. This is an area of less than 1.5 acres, so we've been closely monitoring how much grass they have left and supplementing them with dry hay in the barn.

We have a larger pasture, but can't release the cows into it until it's properly fenced. That's a task that has been consuming us for a couple weeks now. Most of the hard work has fallen on Don; not only because I was gone for 10 days to visit my parents, but also because I work my online job at least three days a week (sometimes more, if covering for absent coworkers), during which times I'm positively glued to the computer.

Additionally, with this crippling heat wave the western portion of the nation has been experiencing, we're limited to working in the very early mornings. This week, I was at last able to give Don some proper assistance in getting longer stretches of fencing tied up.

We're using up the field fence we bought several years ago, purchased because we knew this day would come. We have plenty of rolls, and we're glad we bought it when we did since prices are significantly higher now.

A roll fits perfectly into the tractor bucket.

We needed two rolls (they're 330 feet each) for one of our fence lines, up a steep enough slope that we didn't want to tote them by hand (each roll weighs 144 lbs.). We were also armed with gloves, extra T-posts, wire, nippers, a come-along, and all the other accouterments necessary to pull a fence tight and wire it in place.

We started at the top of the hill and unrolled the fence downward.

Earlier, while I was down in California, Don was weedwhacking along the fence line when he discovered this brave pheasant, setting on eggs on our neighbor's side of the fence. She hasn't moved off the nest, despite us working mere inches from her. Pheasant hens set for 23 days, and we have no idea how close the eggs are to hatching.

Well hidden, isn't she?

She watched me with her gimlet eye, but hardly blinked.

A day or two later, when passing the same spot, I noticed the hen was gone (doubtless off getting something to eat). Six eggs, that's her clutch.

Once the fence was unrolled, we loosely looped it over the T-posts to get it off the ground.

Then, section by section, Don ratcheted the fencing tight and I wired the fence to the T-posts. We've been working very early in the morning to beat the worst of the heat, which is one of the reasons the process is going as slow as it is.

(Bonus photo: I was trying to focus on an insect that had landed on a stem of grass when suddenly a hover fly flew into my camera focus, so I snapped a pic. Not the clearest, but kinda cool.)

Meanwhile, another chore that needed doing was cleaning out the cows' water tank.

It had become gooky (is that a word?) and needed a good scrubbing.

Siphoning it out was a slow process and took about an hour.

Finally it was drained enough that I could tip the rest of the water out.

After that, it was just an easy application of elbow grease.

I rinsed everything, then reattached the float valve and started filling the tank.

Filet wandered up about this time to see what I was up to. She got the benefits of fresh, cool water to drink. It must have tasted like ambrosia after a warm day.

Yeah, they're extra work. Yeah, fencing is a pain in the patookus. But I'm glad to have cows again.

New bird

I got a nice photo of a female ring-necked pheasant the other day.

They're not nearly as skittish this time of year as they are during breeding season, and she posed very prettily for me.

But I also got a photo of a new bird I couldn't immediately identify. She was crouched by the side of the car in the driveway as Don and I got back from walking Darcy one evening. It was dusky and the light was fading, so the photo isn't the clearest. The bird didn't seem overly alarmed by our presence, though of course we kept Darcy well away from her.

Clearly she's in the Galliformes order of birds, and at first I thought she might be a chukar. But now I think she's a spruce grouse. Here's a photo from Cornell's "All About Birds" website:

Both my bird books (Golden Guide and Roger Tory Peterson Guide) mention these birds are fairly tame, as indeed she was.

If I'm wrong about her identity, let me know. But it always gives me a minor thrill to spot a new species of bird.

Dream big, I always say

I noticed our neighbor's cat in our pasture the other morning, focusing on something.

This section of pasture appears to be a rich hunting ground, and we often see our neighbor's cats making short work of voles and mice. But this time the cat was looking a little beyond a small rock outcrop. She seemed nervous, too.

But whatever she was stalking certainly had her attention.

Interestingly, a couple of turkeys walked past just about then. It seemed the cat and the turkeys completely ignored each other, though to be fair those huge (by comparison) turkeys could be why the cat appeared nervous.

Turkey: "Hey, watcha doing?" Cat: "Shut up. Shut up!"

I finally saw what the cat was focusing on: a couple of male pheasants.

Well, that's ambitious. Those pheasants are nearly as big as the cat. Dream big, I always say.

Another turkey walked by the pheasant. Can you imagine the conversation? Turkey: "Pssst. Hey Charlie, the cat is after you." Pheasant: "Thanks, Hank. Let him try."

Pheasant: "I seeee you!"

Cat: "Nuts. The jig is up. Retreat!"

Ah, kitty drama.