Wednesday, March 31, 2010

House Guest, Cleaning and More

Where does the time go? Geez, I tell myself to post everyday and before I know it several days have past. The last couple of days have been busy. Yesterday it rained and snowed, although the snow did not stick. ( sad face). Maybe next winter I will get my much beloved snow! The other day I was out in the stall area writing down everything that needs to be done as soon as the weather gets warm enough. Stalls need to be washed, mats scrubbed, more granite in the breezeway, etc....

As I was standing there jotting down everything I noticed a clump of something in one of the horses stalls. Hmmmm, what the heck is that! It was the start of a birds nest made with horse and donkey hair. I have no idea where it came from otherwise I would have put it back, but with so many trees and the bird houses around, well, I just didn't know. I put it by the barn door in case a bird wanted to take it. But before I did that of course a pic had to be taken.

There are a couple of wonderful Donkeys that chew on wood. Well, they finally managed to eat through the top of a pole that is out in the front pasture. The pole is cemented into the ground and to be honest, I just don't want to dig it out. But I also don't want half a pole sticking out of the ground where one of the horses or donkeys could hurt themselves on. A few years back I remembered seeing an article in a horse magazine where old brushes were screwed onto trees for the animals to rub on. Well, why not use that same idea on the pole! So, into the barn, rummaged through an old box and found some brushes that are no longer used. Yeah, I know, why still have them when they weren't being used.

I'm one of those people who hold onto something because I just know there is going to be a use for it. And sure enough this time those old brushes would get used. Although I was only able to put on two rubber brushes before my electric drill battery needed to be recharged. Later today or tomorrow I'll put the other brushes on.

We have a house guest for awhile. This is Otto. He belongs to my middle daughter and she had to find him a temporary home for awhile. Where she lives there are no pets allowed. Well, the landlord found out and it was either get rid of the cat or get evicted. Hence, the reason why the cat is here. As soon as she finds another place that accepts pets she will take her cat back with her. This guy acts like he has lived here his whole life!

And speaking of cats, that reminds me of litter boxes. I don't know anyone who likes to dig through litter for cat poo and I really don't like that chore. It is the dreaded chore!

Anyway, I use the clumping litter and it works great, but, a few of the cats insist on pushing all the litter aside and then they pee on the bottom, then they cover it up. Well, the pee sticks to the plastic bottom and a pooper scooper just isn't strong enough to scrape it off. When I was at the auto parts store an idea popped into my head. An ice scraper to scrape the wet, sticky litter off the bottom. So, I bought one and guess what? It works like a charm! Make sure you get a long handle one so your hand doesn't actually touch the litter as you are scraping. ( Don't ask me how I learned that one). lol

Until next time.....................

Cattle Call Farm, I can't leave comments on your blog. I have tried everything. And I want to leave comments!!! Help!


  1. Awwww Otto is sooooo cute, reminds me of my two black cats....I didn't know that donkeys love to chew on wood so much, just one more thing I have learnt about them since I started at the DSC. You should see some of the fence boards there.....darn...working like little busy beavers. lol

  2. So Otto is a temp, that's how I got Fluff 9 years ago,(LOL)I haven't changed anything on my blog but it went through some auto update and they made changes. I will check it out. Thanks for letting me know, wondered why I hadn't heard from you.

  3. Otto has found his forever home, right there with Cindy, (I know what you said but...) I sure can't blame him.


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