Goodbye Reckless, Hello Stoney

No not the musicians. Our goats.

To everyone that enjoyed coming out to our place to harass Reckless and try to tackle or rope him, I am sorry. He liked to beat me up a little too much. But he is still living out his days very happily at someone else's ranch in Robertson County.

But don't worry. Stoney is just as fun to pick on, and he doesn't try to kill you. He's actually a pretty sweet cabrito.

And you can try to tackle or rope him the next time you come out. Just be sure to tell him thank you when you're done. Or scratch him between his ears.

Oh Nuts!

Or lack thereof.

I stumbled upon this the other day while we were moving goats from one pasture to another.

Can you guess what it is?

If you can answer yes to that question, then you're probably laughing right now.

If you still have your head turned to the side trying to figure it out, then all you need to keep telling yourself is "rainbows and unicorns, rainbows and unicorns, rainbows and unicorns."

Don't stop saying it. Or else you will soon realize what it really is and get all grossed out. And stop reading my blog. And I wouldn't want that.

Cats are yummy

Sometimes Kassidy gets super excited about snuggling with her cat.

So she buries her head in Cricket and grabs at her ears.

And then she tries to eat her. Or lick her. Or whatever makes her happy.

And Cricket just lays there and takes it.

Note: No cats were harmed in the taking of these photos.

When donkeys get bored

They do this.

Leon and Boone are the worst. We'll find half-eaten feed pans spread all over the pasture. I think they chase each other with the pans in their mouths.

Silly donkeys, feed pans hold food. They aren't food.

In Texas there is no grass

No grass!
That's why I freed my ass.
And when I walk out my front door.
My animals are begging for more.

If you think I"m crazy and have no idea what tune these words should be sung to, watch this video here.

And I'm ashamed you don't like polka.

But then you'll get it. And maybe even chuckle.

Asses in the front yard

Woke up, opened the front door,
let Massey out, and saw this

No more fish in the lower pond. Well, no more lower pond

I hope you like the color brown

Absolutely no more grass

At least Massey still has her upper pond.
It's only gained 20 feet of shoreline

59 words.

Chester vs. Kassidy

Chester is 14 days old in this picture. Kassidy is only 3.

Chester can walk, run, jump and feed himself. Kassidy can eat, sleep, poop and pee.

Chester: 1, Kassidy: 0

But I like to think that Kassidy at least wins the cute award.

44 words.

It's a baby!

 

Goat. Cabrito. Kid. Whatever you want to call it.

It's a baby.

And, it beat Baby K by about 2.5 weeks.

Makes me wish I had the gestation of a goat. 20 weeks instead of 40 weeks. Yes, please.

39 words.

The Promotion

Our goat herder in training at only four weeks old.

This weekend Massey got promoted. From Head of Ranch Security to Chief Goat Herder. Well, technically she's still responsible for both jobs.

When Brady needed her most, she came through. The two of them spent an hour chasing goats around the pasture. Massey would cut them off. Brady would throw his loop. And miss. And then they would start all over.

Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, the goats surrendered. So Brady didn't have to rely on his roping skills to seal the deal. But, he did have to rely on Massey, and I have to say, we were both pleasantly surprised with her goat herding skills.

Her reward? A dip in the pond and the trimmings from our brisket. And, a long, long nap. I even let her snore.

Can you say spoiled?

129 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: My cat thinks she's a dog

Goose thinks she's a dog.

When Massey rides in the back of the truck, Goose does too.

When Massey herds our goats, Goose is right behind her.

If Massey is our Head of Ranch Security, then Goose is her Drover.

Poor Goose. I don't think anyone has ever told her she's just a cat. And, yes, I named my cat Goose.

Ku-Tip: Cats make awesome dogs. Or sidekicks to dogs. Or whatever use you can find for them. Gopher-eaters. Yep, cats make awesome gopher-eaters.

84 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: Practice makes perfect

In three short months, Baby K will be here! Which means we need to get in all the practice we can now.

Like, how to hold a baby. How to feed it. How to change it. How to make it sleep through the night (I wish).

Or, how to swaddle it with a sweatshirt. See picture below.

And, we can't forget that all babies should be placed on their backs to sleep, as demonstrated by Cricket below.

We've been trying really hard to make sure we practice every day. And Cricket is always sitting on the back porch waiting for us. Apparently, she doesn't mind helping.

Ku-Tip: Cats make good practice babies. Actually, they're even easier than babies, because when you're done with them, you can just throw them back outside. You can't do that with babies.

139 words.

What the heck is a scoon?

Just ask Brady. He invented it. The word I mean. Not a scoon.

Last week we were driving home late from College Station.

A few miles before our turnoff on Hwy 46, we both notice this semi-large animal dragging another dead animal off the road.

"Holy cow! Did you see that?" I asked him. "That was a big-ass raccoon with an armadillo I think."

"Yeah, I did see that," Brady responded back. "That was one big-ass squirrel!"

"Squirrel? Seriously? You thought it was a squirrel."

"Ah, you know what I meant. That was one large scoon."

"Scoon? Seriously?" as I'm trying to keep my laughter to a minimum at this point.

"Ah, you know what I mean. A stupid raccoon. I'm tired. I'm ready to be home."

And that's how Brady added a new word to the English vocabulary.

I like to define a scoon as a rodent of medium size that is a cross between a squirrel and raccoon. Except that Brady and I can't agree if a scoon has the head of a raccoon and the body of a squirrel or vice versa.

So, I used my awesome Photoshop skills to create two scoons. And everyone better agree with me because I hate losing to Brady almost as much as he hates losing to me.

Scoon #1

Scoon #2

217 words.

Hear No Evil. See No Evil. Speak No Evil.

 

I think this picture says it all.

7 words.

Shotgun!

Did I ever tell you that my dog also has FOMO? Did you forget what that is? That's okay — here's a quick reminder.

This is how we spent our days off during the Christmas break.

Me driving the tractor since it is probably not safe for a pregnant lady to fall out of the bucket.

Brady riding in the bucket because it's okay if he falls out.

And, Massey? Yes, Massey has to ride in the bucket with Brady. She loves it. And she can't stand to be more than 12 inches away from us at any one time.

I think she was so excited to jump in the bucket that she loaded up before I even had time to lower the bucket all the way to the ground.

Silly puppy. Buckets are for humans. And their pets apparently.

139 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: How to catch a calf

If you haven't caught on already, we do things a little differently here at Lazy K. Like, how we round up our crazy bovine.

So, my advice to you on this Friday is to tell you how to properly catch an animal. In this case, how to properly catch a Doodle.

1. Find your new rope that you got for Christmas
2. Make a nice, big loop
3. Hold the rope over your shoulder and don't use it
4. Go find Doodle and tell her to follow you
5. Doodle will follow you

The calf is now properly caught.

Ku-Tip: If you train your animals correctly, you won't have any use for ropes, pens, halters or horses. Of course, this means your animal is now considered a pet, and everyone will make fun of you.

135 words.

The Guard Dog That Wasn't

Why living in the country is awesome:

• Lots of space
• Lots of stars
• Lots of peace and quiet

Why living in the country isn't awesome:

• Weird noises scare me
• The dark scares me
• Being home alone scares me

Brady thinks it's funny when I act like a scared little 2-year-old. Which is why I think it's funny when Brady acts like a scared little 2-year-old. Although he would never admit it.

One night in particular, Brady went out back to put Massey up for the night. She never barks. It's one of the reasons we choose to claim her. Except this night, she started barking at something in the dark.

Our wannabe guard dog playing dead as part of her attack method

Playing innocent is also part of her game

Protecting Brady from big bad monsters

If you haven't ever lived in the country, or haven't lived in the country in a while, you may not realize that when I say dark, I mean pitch black. No moonlight. No street lights. No stars. So now we all agree why this can be scary.

As soon as Massey started barking, Brady claims he heard a thundering noise.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump.

Are you scared yet? Well you should be.

Massey ran out in front of Brady into the dark, when all of a sudden, she came hauling ass back past him.

Guard dog reporting for duty, sir

Don't make me come over there and lick you to death

 The thundering noise got closer.

Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump. Thud. Thump.

Brady is now running after our dog. Our supposedly guard dog. Our dog who is supposed to protect us and scare big bad monsters away. Yep, she tucked her tail between her legs and ran as fast as she could back into her pen. And Brady was right behind her.

I'm gonna come at you like a spider monkey

See what I did to this Frisbee? Don't tempt me.

As soon as Brady shuts himself and the wannabe guard dog in the pen, a huge horse runs past. A dang horse. It wasn't a big bad monster. Just a horse.

This would have made more sense if we had owned a horse. But we didn't.

If a neighbor's horse decides the grass is greener on the other side, do you get to keep the horse? We couldn't find any laws pertaining to roaming horses. So, Brady delivered the horse back to our neighbors. Brady walking as calmly as he can while the horse chases him the whole way. Sometimes Brady having to run around in circles to keep the horse from running him over.

I think the horse thought this was fun.

Anyway, the horse found his hole in the fence and reluctantly went back home. Back home where the grass isn't always greener. And there are no wannabe guard dogs to pester. Or 24-year-old boys to scare. Cause I wasn't scared. But Brady was. His pounding heart and wide eyes told me so.

448 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: How to catch a peacock

Last summer I found a peacock. Found as in I was driving to work down our dusty gravel road when a random peacock darted out in front of me and decided to waddle (do peacocks waddle?) down the middle of the road. It was like a peacock on parade. And it wouldn't get out of my way.

So during my 35-minute commute to work, I had nothing to do but dream up how I would catch this peacock and make it my pet and hug it and love it and call it George. Or Petey. Yep, Petey the peacock. I like the sound of that.

Since Brady was out of town for the week doing manual labor for his parents in Garden City, I figured this was the perfect opportunity to surprise him with our very own peacock upon his return. Surprised wouldn't even have captured his reaction appropriately, especially since Brady has always openly declared his complete hatred of owning any type of fowl. Ducks. Guineas. Chickens. And peacocks.

Ignoring his complete hatred for all things fowl, I decided I wanted to try to catch the peacock anyway, and relied on the power of Facebook and my Facebook friends for advice on how to actually achieve this.

I received a variety of suggestions in less than a few hours. My favorites included:

• Using cheerios to lure it down the road into a pen
• Chasing it with a fishing net and strategically making sure this net landed on the peacock
• Enlisting the help of a full-length mirror to make the peacock think it had a friend it needed to follow
• Using the full-length mirror to make the peacock think there were double the cheerios

Yep. I now had ideas. I was going to catch a peacock.

I called Brady to advise him of my plan. Without taking a breath, he told me I was not allowed to catch the peacock.

Then I hear some talking in the background. Brady laughs and gets back on the phone.

"Jenna," he says, "you're still not allowed to catch the peacock, but Deb's here, and she's supposedly an expert pheasant catcher. She says the key to catching any bird is to make sure you grab both its legs at the same time."

Thanks Deb. Great advice.

I never saw the peacock on my way home from work. I didn't see the peacock the next morning. I never saw the poor little lost peacock again. And, too bad. Cause it would have liked being my pet.

Ku-Tip: Never ask your friends for advice on how to catch a peacock. They'll tell you anything just to see if you'll embarrass yourself. Some will even offer to show up with a camera to capture the moment and call 911 if necessary.

465 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: The anniversary gift

Lazy K Ranch increased by three this past weekend. Brady and I are now the proud owners of two John mules and an orphan calf. Why, you ask? Because when you start running out of anniversary gift ideas, you turn to animals. No, not really. What really happened was that we had wanted some mules or horses that we could actually enjoy riding on our place, and my mom found these guys for us. So we spent last Saturday on the road to East Texas to bring them home.

How did Doodle come to be? Poor Doodle was born May 16, and my parents found her in the jaws of an angry donkey who thought that slinging her around was a fun way to spend his afternoons. They saved her (not so much the donkey) and nursed her back to health. And, since Mom knows that every year Brady and I try to have as many unique characters for our church's petting zoo, we agreed that Doodle should become our new pet.

Pictured above: My mule Smokey "McCoy" Kujawski who looks pretty handsome in orange.

Pictured above: Brady's mule Gibson "Scout" Kujawski. These two go together like peas and carrots.

Pictured above: Two things I've already learned about Smokey. He likes grass and his butt rubbed.

Pictured above: Doodle is the fastest bottle drinker ever. I think her record is less than 2 minutes. She does spill on herself though.

Ku-Tip: So I kinda lied. The mules are our 4th anniversary gift to each other. I even thought about how we could tie these guys to the traditional 4th anniversary gift of fruit or flowers. Are you ready for this? We had to drive through Tyler — the Rose Capital of Texas — to pick them up. Yep, I'm that creative. Don't hate. Just enjoy the mules.

237 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: The missing egg

In the past few weeks, Brady and I have gone from two chickens (Larry & Gary) to three (added Harry) back down to one (lost Harry and Larry), and just this week, lost our last surviving chicken (Gary). We had Gary and Larry since last fall and they had learned to roost, lay and survive the elements, but when we got our new friend Harry two weeks ago, that's all he lasted. Larry went missing not too long after. We were really bummed about that, especially since Larry and Gary were best friends and had lived in our barn together for almost a year. Poor Larry. And, then on Tuesday of this week, Gary went missing. My mom thinks it's a bobcat. I'm thinking raccoon. Brady thinks stray dogs or cats. Guess we'll never know.

Back to my original reason for this post. We wanted to teach our chickens to lay their eggs in one spot instead of going on an egg hunt each time we went to the barn. So we placed a nesting box in the barn, filled it with hay and laid a fake ceramic egg in the middle. I have not seen that fake egg since.

I like to imagine a poor, dumb chicken snake with a huge, fake egg stuck in its belly. Kinda like in the cartoons I found below:


Ku-Tip: I guess chicken snakes can't regurgitate. I guess chicken snakes don't know the difference between a real and a fake egg either.

249 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: I'm my own Grandpa

Pictured above: Everyone tells me I need to start having kids. Exhibit A.

Meet Micky. Micky greeted this world exactly two weeks ago! Micky is an accident, but we still love her. An accident, you say? While I won't go into the exact details, let's just say that Brady has been singing Willie Nelson's I'm My Own Grandpa here lately...

Pictured above: Check out this face.

Pictured above: It's even cuter when Micky lays down and decides to eat. Lazy goat.

Ku-Tip: Even accidents are cute and can have all four limbs, two eyes, two ears and a nose. And all accidents just want to be loved.

47 words.

Friday Ku-Tip: King of the donkey

One of our all time favorite movies is Out Cold, a comedy about a bunch of partying snowboard bums at Bull Mountain Ski Resort in Alaska. Several times throughout the movie, the gang has a "King of the Mountain" snowboard race down the mountain, where the winner earns bragging rights and free beer.

Well, we don't have mountains in Texas. And, we don't have snow. But these two little guys decided to have their own version of "King of the Mountain." We simply refer to it as "King of the Donkey."

Pictured above: "Get out of my way!"

Pictured above: "Did we kill him?"

Pictured above: "Let's check his other end to see if he's breathing."

Ku-Tip: Give your goats some toys or else they will decide to play on your donkeys.

107 words.