Monday, September 5, 2022-- We had another torrential downpour in the wee hours this morning, but I was awake, resting from yesterday's relentless but individually petty demands on time, attention and patience.

The animals I care for and about survived the day, but I was worried about Speckles, alone in the coop, especially when the storm started, and Specs had no warming or drying light.

So I collected the basics of rain protection and trudged barefooted with flashlight through the deep mud puddles the 100 feet to the coop, to turn on Speckles' light.

But the rain was so heavy that I wanted to stay with him and wait out the worst of it.

Speckles, my first-born chicken, is a trooper.  He has had a traumatic life for most of his ten-plus years.  He will be eleven years old in late November.

Speckles with Toozie, my second and last- born, taking dirt baths, March, 2012, kco2012
Speckles with Brownie in the coop, 2017, kco2017
Speckles crowing, kco2015
I call him "The Screamer," because he has such a powerful and relentless crow, but he is also a cuddler, having endured my medical interventions repeatedly over our long relationship.  The worst was when scale mites ravaged his feather/scale junction so badly that the resultant ulcers were making it hard for him to walk.

I developed unanticipated veterinary skill in soaking and debriding the wounds, including holding Specs almost upside down to see the edges of the wounds and clean them.

Specs spent several winter nights on the floor of the coop while healing, and his consort, Brownie,  guarded him from her perch on the high shelf.

But Brownie died last October, at ten years, ten months old, and Speckles has had only Squire, Tweety, and me, to keep him from getting too lonely. 

Today, Speckles took advantage of the marginally sunny skies, by taking a long dirt bath under the guest house attached to the coop, while I spiffed up his quarters, in time for hurricane season and winter.

2 thoughts on “Drenched

  1. katharineotto Post author

    Speckles does better than I do. I’m the one who gets wet from head to toe, with clothes that don’t dry for days, then smell musty and sour. I go through lots of shoes, too, since I’m so hard on them.

    The chickens get to sleep until before dawn, when their day begins.

    I think of you frequently and want to acknowledge you on a blog, soon. Maybe the idea of climate change links us, but like mirror images of too wet vs. too dry.

    I wonder if the change is related to the earth’s wobble and the fact that the polar axis is shifting eastward (the South Pole westward) and the magnetosphere is changing accordingly. The tectonic plates are unstable and always have floated around.

    In other words, I wonder if “climate change” is beyond the scope of human control. Humans certainly have done damage, as with all the environmental toxins released into bodies of water, including ground water and the oceans, but the eco- friendly humans, like the ones trying to save the Sequoias, provide a kind of balance to redeem humanity from its worldwide assault on Mother Nature.

    I can only do so much and try to conserve and respect resources. I expect no more from others. The idea of formal organizations to “fight” this or that is not for me, but I appreciate others’ willingness to follow their own paths.

    Bottom line is I’m trying to play the cards I was dealt. It seems, though, that too many cards are being thrown my way, too fast for me to play them well. I wonder if others feel similarly.


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