The Horrific Noise

We have lived out here on our property for a bit over 8 years now.  People usually have one of two reactions when they hear where we live:

1.  They think we are crazy.  This is because we spend the majority of our time in town driving our kids to and fro and hither and thither and yon.
2. They are jealous.  They dreamily say, “Oh, don’t you just love it?  It is my dream to have some land!  How wonderful!”

And yes.  We are crazy and spend way too much money on gas.  But let us examine reaction number two, shall we?  Let us discuss the dream of living out in the county on a bit of land.  I will let you in on a little secret, friends:

Weird things happen.

Last night, David and I went to bed early.  As we are wont to do.  Our house was super hot.  We are having a GORGEOUS October.  The mornings and evenings can be chilly, but the days are sunny and warm.  We had mistakenly kept a fire going in the wood stove all day. Not because we were cold, but mostly because we find rebuilding fires at night to be loathsome.  And by the time it was bedtime, our home was a sweltering jungle.  So we opened our bedroom windows before we went to bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I heard screaming.  I was sure it was Handsome Dude yelling help.  So I shove David.  Which was completely reasonable.

Me:  David!  GET UP!  HD!  We need to find him.

(I say find him because three of our children sleep in many different places.  The only child who actually sleeps in her bed each night is Sweet Pea.  The other three might make a bed on the floor of a room, sleep in the loft, sleep on couches.  I don’t know why.  I have no time to fix it.)

David:  What?  Huh?

So we both jump out of bed and start panicking.  The sound was horrible.  I stopped at the bathroom because I have given birth to four children.  But then I kept panicking and trying to find the source of the noise.  I realized the sound was not a human.

Me:  David!  Is it a cat?  Is it a hen? Is it coming from outside?

David:  I don’t know!

Me:  What is going on?

David:  I don’t know!

The noise stopped.  David closed the window.  We went back to sleep.

It wasn’t one of our kids=we no longer cared.

This morning, I took the dogs on a walk.  I stopped at the chicken coop and discovered what I believe was the source of that horrific sound.  Right by the fence was a-

Now, dear readers.  You will have to excuse me.  I have lived in the country for too long now and sometimes I get “the look” from townsfolk.  Townspeople do not get country life.  They do not understand how many animals I have seen dead.  How many bones.  How many random body parts.  It is like a horror flick out here. Flashback to a conversation I had awhile back:

Friendly person:  Taylor!  How are the boys’ ducklings doing?

Me:  Ducklings?

Friendly person:  Yes!  Last time I spoke to you the boys had just gotten ducklings.

Me (thinking for a bit): Oh!  The ducklings!  Yeah, they died.  Didn’t live long at all.

The look of horror on Friendly Person is a look I am just too used to seeing.

But remember!  We are living the dream life of owning our own land!  Anyways, forgive me.  I mean not to scar you for life.

Anyways, right by the fence there was a dead hen.  It looked like something took her head clean off.  What took it off?  I really can’t say. Her head was nowhere to be found and her hen friends were happily pecking the ground all around her.  Not one bit phased by the fact that one of their kin had suffered a horrific beheading during the night.

I saw the hen and felt a bad for it, but then continued on my walk. If I had to guess, a coyote grabbed at it though the fence and tried to pull it though, but only made off with part of the hen . . . if you know what I mean. Anyways,  I love walking around our property, and our dogs love it, too.

That’s Tank.  He is 10 now.  He’s my fave.

David bought another cow yesterday.  I haven’t named her yet.

She is in the middle there.  Matilda is on the left and Rosie is on the right.  They are all three expecting.  Or so we are told.

David is off to fetch two more pregnant cows today.  Because he is crazy. So that means we own  pregnant cows (Matilda, Rosie, and three  Unnamed Cows), three steers (Stupid Steve, Houdini, and unnamed steer-formerly known as unnamed bull calf), and one Bessie who is being bred on another farm.  So after David gets these two, we will have 9 head.  We would have had 10, but my poor baby Tiny Tim didn’t make it.

I am telling you!  Things die!  A lot!  Out here!

Don’t be jealous.  Seriously.  Live your life in town and be happy you didn’t see a beheaded hen on your morning walk.

Happy Sunday!