I have a lot of animals at my place… my chickens run to me when they see me coming, that’s joyful. In the morning I open a part of the barn where there are some favorite nests and 2 or 3 chickens dash in! I wonder if they have been standing with their legs crossed, desperate to lay their eggs, wondering what will they DO, where will they go, if I don’t show up soon and open thae door.
The guineas are part of the chicken flock, they shout deafeningly loud when any thing out of the ordinary occurs. They behave like thugs, bullies, cowards. I love them. They’re as funny as the hens. Just guineas being guineas.
I love to see the chickens being chickens- fulfilling their chicken natures, cats being perfectly cat, dogs being dogs, sheep being sheep.
I love to see the mountains being mountains too. I guess if I thought deeply about it, I would get joy out of the mud in my driveway being mud.
I’m not saying I don’t train my animals! I have a ram, and he is sweet tempered, but someone put the fear of rams in me, so I am wary. He’s last year’s lamb, so quite young. He was protective of the ewes, should I spell that possessive last fall during breeding season.
When the ewes lambed, he was quite attentive, and seems to keep an eye on the lambs. I have no idea what he would do if a stranger showed up in the pasture, but it appears he accepts my presence, all the sheep come to me in the field. If I am out there and the ram touches me with his forehead, I rob him of his dignity… I grab a couple of his legs and make him end up on his back. He needs to understand I am not a subordinate member of the group.
But he is sweet and kind, and clearly he feels a bond with the other sheep, and to me he is fulfilling his ram nature.
This community of animals brings me joy. I enjoy the inanimate mud and rocks and gravity and mountains and sunsets, but the living beings that show a fondness for me, that fills my heart. They allow me to observe their private lives.
When I go out to the pasture, the dogs come too, and the cats. The cats constellate themselves a casual distance from me, they keep watch on me while they do whatever else they are doing.
When I walk to the mailbox, about 1/3 mile, the cats accompany me down the driveway and then they take cover in my neighbor’s woodland next to the road while I continue on to the mailbox. But they wait for me, and accompany me home again.
It brings me joy to write about it.