Shwan Song

The last couple of months haven't been fun.

Much has been lost.
Much has been taken away.
Much has been given up.
Much has been given away.

It has been ugly.

Ellie May, Jethro, ALA and i were sitting at an excruciatingly long traffic light the other day, kinda talking around some of the stuff that has been going on, and i made the comment that the only constant in life is that everything changes.  Ellie May replied, "Except for this light."


I try to see my Creator in all that i do, and my constant prayer is that i am His servant (and i do believe that G-d is a male...a woman would not have inflicted bras, pantyhose and purses on her own kind.)

Sometimes, i have hard time when He's workin' a Plan, though. 

Figuring out what it is, seeing it, living with it...you know. 

But i try to remain obedient.

His Will will be done.




Like everyone else, there are times when i have trouble hearing the "still small voice."

At those times, my prayer is that He give me a neon sign, so that i don't miss what he is telling me, and do the wrong thing.

This is one of those neon sign times. 

Been askin' for it.

Been lookin' for it.

Been waiting for it.

Finally got it.
Or at least, i was given words of encouragement, anyway.

Ya never can tell how He will speak to you. 

Lots of times, He has spoken to me through the animals (not literally, you KNOW what i mean,) and many, many times He has spoken to me through my babies.  And the last couple of years, He has spoken to me through the very amazing leader of this really groovy church i have been attending.

This week, i was spoken to again. 

On the back of a couple of semi-trucks, of all places.

Really.

I was driving down the highway, begging for guidance and respite from the onslaught, when i finally focused on the truck i had been following for who knows how many miles, and in great big huge letters on the back door was:

Phil. 4:13

FAITH

Now, i had to wait to get home to look up the scripture, but the reminder, the simple reminder of our most important and sometimes most difficult endeavor, brought me back from the edge of the cliff.

Remember Who is in control.  Have FAITH.


A couple of hours later, still on the road, still talking to G-d, i pull up behind another semi, and this time, the entire scripture was covering the door.

"Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the Lord. Psalm 31:24"

The Philippians?
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."

How many trucks do you pass, or pass you, and how many of them quote The Word?
I'm tellin' ya, He was speakin' to me.

And so, on this, the final posting of Tales From Tails Up, i leave you with those words, and a couple that the amazing leader of the groovy congregation tossed out some months back.

Have faith, be strong, take courage,

and remain steadfast.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my dithering of the last couple of years, and thank you for all your comments, kind words, and encouragement.  It has been way fun, and i will miss writing for ya.  Love and blessings to you all.

Mahalo Nui Loa and Shalom,
Chickory Blossom


P.S.  To all you doomsday fruit loops:  That Mayan Calendar monkey business?  They weren't predicting the end of the world, they were predicting the end of this blog.

All that fuss and worry for nuthin'.

It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This...

 

How did i miss posting these?  This was back in the spring before we cut the hay.

Time Won't Let MeeeEEEEeeeee....

Ellie May put in a brief appearance and is gone again.

*sigh*
*double sigh*

**REALLY BIG sigh**

Am getting calls and notes wondering why i haven't been posting.

Well, if y'all wanna pony up and send over a housekeeper, a cook, a bottle washer, a seamstress, a washerwoman, a couple of farm boys and a goat herder, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker (the soap maker came last week,) a chauffeur, a butler (give the major do mo the month off, as our social schedule is quite manageable,) a chamber maid, a physician and/or a vet, a tutor, a bookkeeper, and a personal assistant, i will be MORE than happy to sit down and spin ya a yarn. 

If you include a masseuse and a manicurist, i might even spin a couple.

WITO

Been without my baby girl for about six weeks now.

Doin' double time around these parts, which should explain the lack of posting going on. 

She has been with the Sweet City Cousin doing some intensive tutoring with a really amazing lady, and is absolutely blossoming. 

We got to meet up last weekend for a Women In The Outdoors retreat at Lake Tenkiller in Oklahoma. 

I had never been to one of these, but would definitely do another--it was great fun, and there were so many classes, i gotta go again...it was darn near impossible to choose four out of thirty-nine possibilities!!

Our first pick was "Wilderness Cuisine and Wild Edibles."

We thought it would be more of a walk through the woods pointing out "you can eat this but not that" kind of thing, but it turned out to be a very interesting and engaging Native American lecturer, full of lore and tradition; and then a bunch of cooking.  I was delighted, but Ellie May was less than impressed with the cooking part.  She was a good sport about it, though.

Most important fact taken away from the lecture:  AS A GENERAL RULE...red berries good berries white berries bad berries.

We shelled a bunch of acorns...

...and ground some into flour for acorn scones (interesting, but a tad bitter--would have to be real hungry,) and some were caramelized in bear fat with sugar and cinnamon.  Those were fabulous.  Could have made myself sick on 'em.

Let me just say, if anyone ever shoots a bar, i would love to have the fat to render.  It was different than regular lard, not solid, and in the jar, was a touch gamy smelling.  Not really gamy, i guess, but funky.

But oh, when ya put it in a pan and get it hot....it was Divine!!

We sauteed some yard onions it the bear fat for a poke weed quiche (YUMMY!!) and everyone kept coming over asking what smelled so good...and it gave the quiche a really great flavor.

I am now a HUGE fan of bear fat.

Here we see Ellie May concocting the quiche...

Other members of the class made persimmon ice cream and the star of the show was a dip made with poke, chickweed, and wood sorrel. 

Can't tell you how good it all was.

Next we went to a knife forging class. 

Unfortunately, the knife forging instructors were a couple of grumpy old men.  Make that VERY grumpy old men.  We forged the knives, but didn't have a good time doing it.  It left a bad taste in Ellie's mouth, and she begged off the Basic Blacksmithing class the next morning, in favor of flint knapping, which she enjoyed.

Sad thing was, though, that the Basic Blacksmithing class was a hoot.  The instructors were happy and humorous, and everyone had a great time.

The pictures are of one of the girls in the class, but i did the same thing when it was my turn.

We took a piece of stock and had to draw it out and put a point on it.

I would say this was some hot stuff.

Then we put in a series of bends and curves.

There were two forges going, one gas, and one coal.

In the end, we ended up with the hook on the left.  I closed my hook up more than the others did, as i intend to use it in the barn, and don't want the bucket to get knocked off.

The knife is on the right.
But then you figured that out, now, didn't ya.

The final class we went to was Wilderness First Aid.  Once again, we thought it would be a walk in the woods with a "use this plant on bee stings and that plant for sunburn" kind of a lecture, but it turned out to be a general kind of thing.  Didn't really learn much, except for one very interesting tidbit. 

Did you know that Duct Tape is made in a sterile environment?  In dire circumstances, you can use it to bind wounds.

Of course it is going to hurt like the dickens when you have to take it off.

Hopefully, if you are in a situation where duct tape is the option, by the time it comes off you will be in a hospital on a morphine drip, and it won't matter anyway.

Only In Texas

Redneck Drive-Thru Road Food

If Homesteading Was Easy, Everyone Would Do It

Maud, The Amazing Flying Goat
February 5, 2011 - November 2, 2012

Cat Napping

Okay, how about DUCK napping?

Can ya see that?  They are all tucked in and snoozing on the pond.
Aren't they cute?
Musta been up partying all night.
Can't believe i managed to get the shot withought waking any of them.

Uh oh.

Ya don't think they are dead, do ya?

Mikey: Candidate for MIT

Mikey is no rocket scientist.

There is a reason he is enrolled in freezer camp.
Gonna get him the T-Shirt, and everything.

Mikey seems to have trouble with the concept of field fencing.
These days, we are pulling his head out about twice a day.

The youngest faction of The Krew came for a visit last week, and all the children were running around outside. 

At some point, CBear came into the kitchen, and very calmly and politely asked, "May I please borrow your tool bag?"

Now, my tool bag is one of the few things that i get proprietary over.  I have lost untold numbers of hammers and pliers because others don't seem to respect tools the way i do.  I even bought a big pink tool box full of pink handled tools one time, thinking that others would be humiliated to be using such girlie instruments.  Didn't work.  They all disappeared piecemeal, including the box.

Additionally, i am no spring chicken.  Been around the block.  I am smart enough to know better than to hand off an arsenal to a pack of munchkins under the age of 12.  Especially when the PTF (Petite Delicate Flower) is involved.  Might walk out there to find the boy-childs trussed up to the side of the barn. 

So i asked. 
"CBear, what do you need the tool bag for?"

He replied, "One of the goats has his head stuck in the fence and we are trying to get it out."

This can't be good.

I go out there, and sure enough, Mikey is screaming bloody murder, and Jethro and The PTF are working away at the $200 a roll field fencing with wire cutters.

Of course i tried to be calm, cool and collected, but i think i might have shrieked.

How do you explain to a couple of small men (and The PTF) with tools in hand that a stranded doe or the big bad buck would be worth tearing up the fence, but a freezer kid that does this twice a day requires a different tack?

I opened the wire a tad and grabbed his little horns (Mikey's, not the munchkin's) and yanked him out of there.  Didn't even take any hide off. 

The munchkins were very disappointed in not being able to perform a procedure of some kind.

Mikey was much relieved, until about 4 hours later when he was hemmed up again.

Our fencing has taken quite a beating this week.


 

Containment Issues That Lead To Happy Thoughts

Ya know we have a visiting buck.

Ya know that i have ALWAYS had a soft spot for Ditto.



I want Moon back.




Susan SWEARS that Ditto is a sweet and gentle buck, the lowest key buck in her herd.

Let me just tell  you about Ditto.

Moon and i have a great relationship.  Lots of face time.  We get practically nose to nose, and talk to each other.  I scratch the spot he can't reach behind his scurs, and he gives me kissy lips.  I like to believe that he enjoys this pastime as much as i do.  Moon occasionally sneezes during our talks, but they are usually small, controlled sneezes, usually to punctuate a thought, and he almost always turns his head.

Ditto and i have been making friends the last couple of weeks, gaining mutual trust, etc.   However, it would seem that Ditto left his good boy manners back at Queenacres.  The other day, we were standing at the fence, finally having our first real face to face...practically nose to nose...talk, and in the big middle of it, Ditto gave a HUGE, very BUCKLY goatie sneeze.

Goat snot, AAAALLLLL over my face.
Couldn't even see out of my glasses.



I have NEVER been slimed like that, before.


So there is that.


Now, we all know why Ditto is here.
He has only one job, and he has set out to do it well.

I was managing to keep things under control.
For a very short period of time.

HRH The Princess Gidget was bred, and the date was recorded.
Maud was bred, and the date was recorded.

Three days ago, i went out to do the morning barn chores, and Ditto was in the doe pen.
Upon inspection, it was discovered that Ditto took out a portion of fence and a very sturdy gate.
It was one of those days when there was no time for major repairs, so i tied everything back together with baling twine, secure enough to make it all do until i could get a proper fix on things, and then i separated the herd, so Ditto would have no reason to go fence hopping again.  Ditto and the four milky girls were left in the doe pen, and everyone that didn't need a date with Ditto were shuffled off to the buck pen with Lancieboy.  That would be Peaches, HRH, Cherry and the freezer camp kids.

Yesterday, things were fine in the morning.  I had to be away again all day, and when i got home in time to do evening barn chores, i walked out to the doe pen and counted noses.

Hmmmmm.  One nose short.

I looked over to the buck pen, and what do i see?

Ditto, hard at work.

Yet again, a Cherry Bomb.

Couldn't believe it.
Another section of fence was demolished.

I give.

So, we here at Tails Up are back to the "Tigger Method" of family planning.  Once again, we have had to throw open the gate, and hope for the best.

HRH The Princess Gidget Dines

Gratuitous photo day.

Oink

So i am standing in the frozen foods section of a big city grocery store yesterday, and one of the city's finest comes up and stands near me as he peruses the fish sticks and frozen pizza. 

The police officer turns ever so slightly toward me and i catch his name.

Boldly emblazoned in shiny, all-caps gold thread on his perfectly pressed uniform was

BACON

If idda had a camera i wudda gotten arrested.

Goin' On A Bar Hunt....

...Gonna catch a BIG bar...

Got me one over here, fellers!....I think.....



Uh...NOT!! You won't catch me eating any of that...but FROG is good!!

Bar huntin' wears us out.  Y'all holler if ya see somethin' worth chasin'.

For The Just Plain WRONG File

My lovely outdoor kitchen has been commandeered by the Livestock Guardian Team.

I don't remember anything about  Eminent Domain Seizures in their contract, but apparently i was mistaken.

 At least they are granting me access, although i am pretty sure it is only because they know who buys the Puppy Chow.

 I would love to draw the line at toy storage, but am not exactly sure how to make that one stick.

........Getting to Like You, Getting to Hope You Like Me

If you haven't read yesterday's post, go catch it first, or none of this is gonna make much sense.

You can run, but you cannot hide!

Acckkkk!!!!!  LITTLE HELP HERE!!!

Time out, give it a rest.

Round TWO....ding ding ding

Really?  Is all this necessary?

Lance breathes a sigh of relief as Becky the Bad enters the scene.

Pssst...sneak in here, Lance...he hasn't figured out where the door is, yet.

Finally, an accord is reached.

That new boy is VIGOROUS!!! He 'bout wore me plum OUT!!

Don't EVEN think about it, Buster!!

So close, and yet so far.....

You sure this fence will hold?

At the end of the day, the boyz share their supper.

All's well that ends well.....
Right?

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You.....

So here it is, breeding season again.

Didn't we just do that?

This year is kinda a new experience.  Moon has been rock steady for us all these years, but, as previously mentioned, it is time to toss a little chlorine in the gene pool.  This year, we have a "lease buck," here on very friendly terms.  Okay.  Ditto is all about being friendly right now.  But i meant that Susan has graciously lent us the buck of my choosing for the duration of breeding season.  When all that is done, we will send him back home, and try a milking season with no bucks so that i can turn every drop of milk into cheese for both our families.  Gonna be real busy next summer, so don't expect much out of me except for yummy delicious cheese.

Ditto and Lancie Boy kinda had a car crash introduction, so i tossed Lance in with the girlz until everyone got used to each other through the fence.  Unfortunately, Lance is a lovin' muffin of very little brain, and twice the size of my girlz.  He seemed perfectly content in with the herd, but doesn't have very good manners, and is too big to bully into line.  Even for Becky the Bad, if you can imagine that.  Ren might have been able to pull it off, but, too late for that.

They have all had a couple of days, and the initial curiosity has worn off, so i decided it was time to try to meld the buck pen again.

This, like all my breeding plans, was a Happy Thought.

Ditto was lookin' for a Love Slave, and Lance wuddn't havin' any.

There wasn't any sparring, as would naturally be expected, just a whole lotta chasin' and courtin'.

I finally walked away--couldn't stand it any more, and there was WAY too much testosterone being exuded for me to get in the pen and separate them.  After about 10 minutes, i didn't hear any songs of love coming from that quadrant, so went back around the corner for a look-see.

They had gone to their separate corners and laid down. 

Lance was by the fence, and when i tried to love on him, my affections were spurned.  He was just plain ticked at me.

Round two then commenced, and as i watched, i thought perhaps i should put a doe in there to take the heat off of Lance. 

So i go in the house and check my records, because this year (don't fall over, Susan,) i have been keeping track of who was in heat, and when, partly because i need a tad more control than the Tigger Method of Breed Planning (just throw open the door and hope for the best) affords me, and partly because i need to do a drive-by breeding with Splendora, taking her over to Queenacres for a rendezvous with Manny.

When i have a look at the "Hot List," i am chagrined. 

Give ya three guesses as to whom the next doe up to the plate is.

Can you say "Cherry Bomb?"

Just my luck.

Let me just state for the record that THAT ain't gonna happen on purpose.

Next closest At Bat is Becky the Bad.

Good enough.

I drag her into the buck pen, and voila!  Ditto ignores her like she was the dorky girl with braces, coke bottle glasses and pigeon toes at the prom (Oh!  Wait!  That's Cherry!)

Ditto continued to chase Lance around, and Becky mosied on over and stuck her head through the fence to eat from the smorgasbord in the south field.

And after all that trouble to get him here.

**Sigh**

Eventually, Ditto realized that there was another goat in the pen, and started harassing Becky, instead.

Now, the ol' girl iddn't known as "Becky the Bad" for nuthin'.

Pretty soon she gave him the slip.  Managed to stay in hiding long enough for Ditto to smooth down his feathers and catch his breath.  She then led the boys out to the buck pasture and everyone had a browse.

By the end of the day, Ditto and Lance were enjoying a somewhat tenuous truce, but truce none the less.

Tune in tomorrow for the pictoral version of this story.

Goodnight, Moon

We do so love our Moon Man. 

But his work here is done.

At least for the next couple of years.

Gotta get a little chlorine in the gene pool, 'coz there ain't much left in the back yard that Moon hasn't been party to in one way or another.

Moon headed to Queenacres today to serve as "clean-up hitter" over there, and perhaps be part of the starting lineup next season.

This is Ditto. 

I have had my eye on Ditto since he was a pup, and am very excited to have him join us this year.  Can't wait to see what his babies look like.

He is such a laid back guy, am thinking it is a good swap, although i am gonna be missin' Moon's lovey dovey ways.  But Susan promised to give him face time, so he will be alright.

The girlz weren't too sure what to think about this big buck getting turned loose in their pen...there was a lot of closing of the ranks and herd moving from one spot to the other while Ditto tried to impress them all with his manliness.  Even the Bob's came to see what all the ruckus was about.

Finally, they settled into position with a fence between them.
Never mind that there is a big wide gap in the fence immediately to the right of them, there was a piece of fence between them, and that was all that mattered.

George was completely displeased to have an unknown chasing his charges around, and was in the kid pen voicing his displeasure, with Ralph backing him up.

Finally, everyone kinda settled down and the girlz went in the corner to whisper about the new guy, so Ditto took the opportunity to go over and talk trash to Moon.

Moon was like, "Hey!!! This is SOOOooooo UNFAIR!!!!  They won't let me anywhere NEAR those girls this year, and here comes this stranger and they just throw him right in there!!!"

After he and Lance had a chance to say goodbye, we loaded Moon up in the back of Susan's truck, and sent him on off to his new Love Shack. 

You're my Booger friend!!

Lancie Boy

As i look back over the posts of the last couple of years, i see that i have not mentioned our wether, Lance.

aka Lazy Lance
aka Lance the Lump
aka Lovable Lance

 

Lance was the product of unintended breeding that took place right after we had the fire, when everything was either out of control or beyond our control.

 

His mama was my first favorite goat, Loki, who could not have been more aptly named (Loki being the Norse god of chaos and mayhem.)

She was the original Flying Goat, and no one has ever put the twist into the Happy Goatie Feet dance like she did.

She also had a thing for climbing on cars to get to the juicy leaves on the trees, and then when that was done she would go snooze on the white trash couch until i would come out and scratch her ears.

 

(We had a van at the time, and had pulled one of the benches out and set it on the back porch by the kitchen door.  Decided the bench was way more useful there than in the van, and took to referring to it as "the white trash couch.")

 

His daddy was the original Lance, and (banjo pickin' here) brother to Loki.

Don't tell PETA.

 

So Lancie Boy was never destined to be a Herd Sire or a Brain Surgeon.

And he has lived up to expectations.

 

He is kind of a lump, but he could not be a sweeter boy, and was made for lovin'.

 

Well, not Sparkin' Sparta kinda lovin', but snuggle goatie lovin'.

 

He was Jethro's first favorite goat, and is Moon's best friend.

 

Since we are mentioning the original goats that we started the herd with--Loki and Lance Sr., i gotta share a memory real quick. 

 

The other two original goats were Ren (you remember her--the cranky one that we sent up north) and One Eyed Jack. 

 

Jack had a problem with one eye, like a cataract or something.  Never gave him any trouble, and we never figured it out.  But that is how he got his name.

Jack was a real hunny boy, and we were so sorry to loose him. 

He and Ren gave us Becky the Bad, and she is a top notch homestead milker, even if she took her mama's disposition.

 

Before the fire, we had a lot of acreage, and used to turn the goats out and let them roam free all day. 

One day, when Jethro was about four, and Jack was still a puppy, i looked out the kitchen window to see the two of them in a standoff. 

Jethro was bent at the waist, and he and Jack were forehead to forehead.

Every once in a while, Jack would rare up on two legs and Jethro would stand straight, trying to see who could get the tallest, and then they would go head to head again...not head butting--Jack was too gentle for that, but eye to eye.

 

There was definitely some kind of communication going on between those two stubborn boys.

 

I have always wondered what they were saying, and who won. 

 

 

Dust Bowl

The Quail Experiment has begun.

 

Susan, Dear Susan hatched out a bevy of these beauties, and i have given eleven of them a new home.

It is my sincere hope that they are not all named Lou.

Need some Luetta's in there.

Am hoping for a little reproduction, here.

Coz all these guys are good for about one meal.

 

They started out pristine and white.

 They make the sweetest little sorta chirping sound. 

They won't be performing surgery any time soon, but we find them to be quite esthetically pleasing, on many levels.

 

Until they decide to take a dust bath. 

We have one we must call Pig Pen.

He is the one towards the top in the picture above.

He is such a Dust Hog that the fella below had trouble getting his turn.

Pig Pen gets in and rolls around on his back like a happy dog rollin' in the grass.

When he gets done with that, he rolls onto one side and streeeeettttccchhhhhes one leg, then rolls over and strreeeeeeeettttccches the other leg.

Then he does the Happy Dog again.

He is funny enough that i am not sure i am gonna be able to eat him.

Kinda like the Bob's he is worth way more in entertainment value that meat.

An Open Letter To Mrs. Obama

Dear Michelle,

I would like to commend you on your efforts to raise the nutritional level of our nation's school lunch program.  I understand that your efforts have considerably improved the content of our public school dumpsters, and would like to personally thank you for the wise expenditure of my hard earned tax dollars.

Being a concerned mother, as well, i am a tad uncertain as to how to implement a higher nutritional standard in my own kitchen, and am hoping that you would be willing to share the particular threats, bribes or tortures you use in your own home to make your family consume all that organic produce you grow out back in the White House kitchen garden, and how they manage to stay upright on so few calories.

I make every effort to provide healthy food three times a day, cooking from scratch, using as few commercially prepared ingredients as possible (except for Ranch Dressing Mix,) and spend countless hours and untold expense preserving the fruits of our labor on this humble homestead, in order to maintain a pantry full of sustenance free of growth hormones, genetically modified organisms and pesticides, as i am not a proponent of the "Better living through chemicals" way of thinking.  I find it difficult, however, to sell the fresh, raw vegetables in my own home unless they are covered in cheese, gravy, or Ranch Dressing.

Perhaps i could illustrate my  dilemma with an anecdote.

On a recent afternoon, i set out a luscious bowl of baby field greens (i just cannot say "baby field greens" without thinking of the movie "Intolerable Cruelty" where the yuppy lawyer sits down in a greasy spoon diner and orders "A salad please, baby field greens," and the cranky waitress gives him the stink eye and says, "What did you call me?"  I just love those Cohen brothers, don't you?) along with grated carrot and some breaded chicken breast for protein.

Ellie May chose two lettuce leaves, eight carrot shreds, and half of the chicken breast that i had prepared for three salads.  She then piled the plate with homemade macaroni and cheese.

When i looked at her plate with a disapproving eye, Ellie May said, "What?  That is the perfect protein to vegetable ratio."

Oddly, even though i talk myself blue in the face trying to get them to enjoy those fresh veggies, my children are not overweight. I am going to assume this would be because they are not spending two-thirds of their day sitting at a desk or in front of a television.  Rather, they are learning hard work and responsibility with a full complement of physical chores that keep them very active and out in the fresh air and sunshine. 

So i am willing to overlook a little mac-n-cheese, as long as it doesn't come out of a box.  Someday, after their digestive systems fully mature, they will understand the benefit of a big pile of baby field greens (what did you call me?)  In the meantime, i will just have to serve kid friendly fare that is made from scratch, rather than the prepackaged chemical concoctions that make some lives so much easier.  Hope that is okay with you.

You can lead a horse to water, Michelle, but you cannot make him drink.
'Nuff said.

Sincerely,
Chickory Blossom

Anatolian Shepherds--Guardians and Retrievers

The Boyz are usually passed out in the back yard by the time i leave to swim in the mornings.

This morning, they were still on duty when i pulled out.

The cows were in the pasture to the left of these shots, and The Boyz were making sure they didn't cross any lines. 

All i could see were a couple of heads.

George was out in the middle of the pasture...

 And Ralph was up by the road....

 I feel so safe.

Susan has a great story about her Anatolian, Aegis, brother to these guys.  I have waited for days for her to tell it, but she is all wrapped up in aquaponics right now (!!!!) so i guess i gotta tell it for her.

It would seem that when Susan goes to feed and water the quail, there is one of them that considers it his duty to fly out of the cage and wait patiently at her feet for the bed to be turned down and a mint placed on the pillow.  When she is done in the cage, Susan scoops him up and deposits him back in his suite.  One evening, the tasty little morsel decided to go walkabout while he was waiting on room service, and scooted through the fence into the neighbors yard. 

Susan gathered her handy shepherd's crook, and began the trek through all the gates and around the fencing to the neighbor's yard.  As she approached, the morsel scooted back where he belonged.  Susan headed home.  Before she even got to the gates, the morsel tries to make another escape.  Susan goes back into the neighbor's yard, and the morsel skinnies through the fence again, this time taking flight. 

Just as Susan is thinking, "Oh great, he is gone, now,"  Aeg comes out of nowhere, jumps up and catches the quail in mid-air.

Susan says, "Aegis!  That is MY quail!"

Aeg trots over to her and deposits a pristine, unharmed, unruffled, dry quail in Susan's hand.

Ya gotta love those dogs.