June and July: But the Duckworth’s didn’t only have four wonderful dogs. They had a little bit of everything, just as a real, old school farm should.
There were eight horses and two ponies in this beautiful green stable.
The donkey was tiny and charming but stubborn, like donkeys generally are, and called Squeaky. You could not help loving her.
Troubles, her ball and Squeaky. She really was tiny, that donkey.
There were cows and two calves. When I arrived, they were just weaning one of the calves – he was screaming for his mom day and night. I also got to milk his mom one day, and seriously, I thought it would be a lot harder than it was. So now I know how to milk a cow. In case of the zombie apocalypse or some other catastrophy that forces all the survivors to move out into the country and start farming again.
They had chickens, egg birds that lived on the hill. But those I knew all about already.
Four sheep, that kept to themselves up in one corner of the property. They were very private and sceptical of strangers. They would not let me come near them, even though I sang “Bä bä vita lamm” for them and everything. And they really needed to get their wool cut too!
And then we have the geese. They moved around in a group, very close together and talking talking talking like a bunch of gossiping old women.
And more than once they turned up in places where they shouldn’t be. Like in the blueberry field on a picking day. Lorri sent Pax after them, but that just made them scream louder and scatter all over. So, there was nothing else for us to do than to chase everyone down and catch them and carry them out, one by one. And, I tell you, a goose is heavier and a lot tricker to carry than it might seem. But they are funny. Oh yes they are.
Animals. They are so much fun.
Katja Malmborg 