Well, we went and did it. We got ourselves a puppy. It’s not that we were looking all that hard for a dog; this little guy just sort of fell into our laps. He needed a home by February 12th, or he was headed to the pound where he’d most likely be euthanized. We couldn’t let that happen! Plus ... the farm does need a dog ... So last week, we adopted Oreo, a 4 month old Lab/Blue Heeler mix with dark brown eyes and a tender spirit. He has quickly wiggled his way into our hearts. Here you can see him with Andy and Elly through our kitchen window.

But before I begin to tell you about our new adventures with Oreo (now it’s Rio, as Andy has coined him), I must back up a bit and give honor to our farm dog that we lost this summer. Before we were sharing our lives with all of you here at GRIT, we had a few months blogging online by ourselves. I’d like to re-post one of those blogs in which I detail the life and times of our faithful friend, Candy. She made a big impact here on the farm and excluding her from our dog archives would not be right. So, from July 2008, here is the story:

It is with a sad heart that we post this blog tonight. At around ten this morning, we had to euthanize Candy, our farm dog of 12 years. Yes, this is the same dog that only days ago was rambunctiously reeking havoc with our new sheep.

Some things aren’t always as they seem. She just became really sick on Tuesday. We took her to the vet first thing Wednesday morning, and she didn’t improve. Amongst a host of other issues, her kidneys were failing. It’s weird to hear that with a dog; but there’s no dialysis for animals, at least not that a farmer could afford. The humane thing was to put her down quietly and with family holding her.

Candy ... this little Shephard/Heeler/who-knows-what mix has been running through mud puddles for over a decade here!

Twelve years ago, I was just finishing up my freshman year of high school. The spring of 1996 was a turning point for the farm. After several years of trying to do it all on his own, my father made the tough decision to sell his milking cows and just raise heifers. It would free him up beyond words, yet always leave something wanting. In early April of that year, my long-time friend, a horse named Spark, had to be put to sleep from failed hips and old age. He was as much my father’s horse as he was mine. We both lost a true friend. (To this day, don’t get us talking about Spark; we’ll both choke up!)

Shortly thereafter, I heard from a friend at school that they had puppies to give away. We didn’t have a dog on the farm at that point....

The timing was ripe. It was perfect. But Dad didn’t want to deal with a new puppy! So I promised him that I would take care of its every need and he wouldn’t have to do anything. (How many of you have said that before?) With help from my mom, we convinced him. Not that he said yes. He just said, “Fine, but it’s YOUR dog. Not mine.”

I don’t remember how we picked her out of the litter of rolling puppies, but suddenly we had a vibrant, three month old pile of fur that we could call ours.

In honor of her golden-coated mother, Snickers, we named the new puppy Candy. She came to us as big as a large tomcat and loved us from day one. We taught her to stay off the road (more than one farm dog met its demise on that highway), to fetch and to not jump on people. Ok, that last one she never really got.

The life of a farm dog is exciting, free and often dangerous. Candy was not more than a “teenage” dog when she learned what a kick from a cow can mean. The heeler in her caused her to nip at the cows’ feet to get them moving and they did not like it! As she grew in size (and bark!) they began to respect her and moved along as she saw fit. Now, it wasn’t perfect by any means. We never really trained her much in the art of herding. A herding dog has the instinct to keep animals together and on the move, but a lot of the times, Candy had them all perfectly formed, stampeding forth ... in the complete wrong direction.

And sometimes, she really got it. If a heifer strayed, Candy would hunt her down and work her back into the group. It was beautiful to see, especially if you’ve ever had the privilege of trying to move a herd of unruly cows. (There’s lots of running involved. Seeing a dog do that part is satisfying indeed.)

A few years into her young life, Candy had an accident that we thought would end her. It was winter and my father was driving some heavy machinery around to feed the cattle. Always at his side, Candy slipped on the ice and went right under the tractor tires. She was rushed to the vet where they did surgery to repair her hips, but she was crushed so bad that her left socket couldn’t hold her leg into place. You know what? She pulled through! For ten years, she ran around the farm (and I do mean ran) with a dislocated hip and a limp.

Candy could be really annoying, too. I guess, who can’t? She would bark at the sound of thunder, fireworks and gunshots. We live in rural Wisconsin. Those noises are very common. She jumped on every guest with muddy, poopy farm paws. She barked all night over nothing. (Though she was invaluable at keeping the coyotes away.) She dug up animal carcasses from who knows where and ate them on the front lawn. And kept re-finding them even after we tried to dispose of them. She chewed through our summer hammock. She scratched up the finish on all the drivers’ side doors of our vehicles because she couldn’t wait for us to exit. She chased barn cats just to show off.

She was just being a dog.

She befriended the barn cats that had no feline friends. She shared her home under the porch with more than one litter of kittens. She had a companion with my beef steer Buckeye. And she always greeted us every morning with a wagging tail and loving eyes.

When I went away to college, she ceased to be my dog ... but in reality, she had been my father’s dog long before. For years, Candy was my father’s only companion on the farm. Through blizzards, rainstorms, intense heat and of course the balmy days, she could only be found by his side. That little puppy he never wanted had become his very best friend.

In recent years, Candy had noticeably slowed down. She didn’t always go to the fields with Dad. Sometimes she ignored the wandering cow. Many days were spent basking in the shade of our great maple trees. We all knew she was getting older and into her twilight years. I guess, though, you can never really be ready for that day.

Today was that day. And I write tonight so that the memory of a good friend won’t die with the dog that created it. She is at peace. The Bible doesn’t say if animals go to heaven. But God did create all creatures here on Earth and He knows every single one. He knew Candy. He blessed us with 12 long years to care for her. He delighted in her mischief and doggy ways.

And so did we. Farewell, old friend. Your loving eyes and wagging tail will desperately be missed.

Candy, you were a Good Dog.

Good morning friends, it has certainly been a busy 2009 here on the farm, and we'd like to treat you to a photo update.

This year has been paramount for us. The "farmer downtime" that Becky spoke of in a previous blog has really turned out to be a series of exciting (and sometimes heated) planning sessions.  As you can see, Elly is preparing for the grass season with a quick refresher on our Midwest grasses. She's so savvy. Our biggest obstacle inhibiting us from making some serious decisions was whether or not we would be going ahead with our small dairy.

 

In mid-January, we enlisted the help of an independent consultant. Larry Tranel works with Iowa State University, and he has developed a system that allows people to plug in many of the numbers that they are planning for in a dairy operation and it tells you how profitable you will be. Up to this point, we had desired to have a very small operation. As Larry began putting information into his system it became evident very early on that our plans were not going to hold much weight in traditional models (do they ever?). After several hours of discussion and evaluation, the lights began to turn on one by one; we would not be going forward with a dairy. The biggest reason is that we would have to go into debt for at least $150,000 to build a new facility and that was not an option; Becky and I refuse to incur such a debt-load, it is just not wise.

We talked as a family and came to a conclusion. If we were able to update the existing (though less than ideal) system for less than $10,000 then we would go ahead. We would then take the first few years to save up for the major system and purchase it outright. Dave had an end-of-the-month deadline to contact the proper people to come and evaluate the system and price out the upgrades. So for two weeks, we waited.

During this time Becky and I mapped out two paths for this year and ultimately the next few years. If the dairy was not feasible, we would focus hard on a fruit and vegetable CSA taking on 10 to 15 customers, as well as giving great attention to our grass-fed meat and poultry. This we would then grow to a comfortable size and manage. If the dairy was a possibility then we would scale down to a modest mesclun mix salad green CSA and not focus as heavily on our meats, as we will be spending much time in the dairy.

Late January, a man from a local dairy supply company came and checked us out. We didn't hear anything for about a week. During that time a friend prayed that on Wednesday, February 4th, we would be given our directive, and mid-morning we got the news: Updates would be available for $9,000 to $10,000. We are a go!

This last week we have begun cleaning the milking barn as well as preparing to finalize our '09 plans. If everything goes as planned, we should be able to begin milking in May when we have fresh grass for the cows to graze. Also, we will be purchasing seeds for our Mesclun Salad CSA as well as a few other projects. We are working with several government-sponsored, pro-small-farm organizations from which we should be able to get some grant money and, if everything goes well, be able to have large-scale solar production here as well. Vive la Resistance!

This week, we experienced much warmer than normal temperatures. Elly, Becky and I decided to do our chores as a family (instead of just me, bundled up like an Eskimo). Elly was very interested in the chickens (she does a great rooster call).

The chickens are doing well. We have been able to get them outside much more these last couple of weeks, and they have been grateful. We are using a fence this winter to keep them corralled, as about half of our flock has never been outside before (let alone on fresh grass), and we are fearful that they would not make it back to the coop. Our original free-ranging flock has decided to not be content with its well-intentioned confinement, and they find ways to hop the fence whenever they can. We're not upset, we like having chickens raking around the homestead. It's kind of romantic.

Our egg production is on the rise too due to the longer days. Chickens lay their eggs in rhythm with the amount of sun. In essence, as Becky puts it, they have a "Chicken Downtime" in the winter too, as their production goes down and they settle in. Many operations will augment their chicken house with artificial light that simulates the sun, essentially forcing the chickens to continue laying when they should be recouping for the coming year. We think that isn't right. In January we were averaging about 40 eggs/day and now we are close to 80!

Elly also had a good time with our Jersey calves, Sasha and Sophie.

At one time Sasha tried to suck on her hand and she got a bit scared.

Here is Becky with the sheepies. All pictured are currently all bred and are beginning to plump up (Becky included). We will be expecting lambs in May. If you want to come and see the little ones as they get released onto the pastures, please come, it will be a joyous time.

My mother and I were able to repair a large door in our cattle area. The opening was roughly hewn and the tin was coming off in a few places so the cattle were enjoying it as a scratching post, causing further damage. We were able to clean the edges with a reciprocating saw and screw down the edges firmly using sheet metal screws with neoprene washers. Thanks, Mom!

The heifers are doing well. They are all bred, and we should be selling most of the Holsteins in a couple of months. That will leave us with our Milking Shorthorn heritage breed that we will begin milking in late summer. In order to start milking this spring, we will have to purchase more animals that are ready to calve. This shouldn't be a huge cost as cattle prices are quite low due to low milk prices. Some people think we are crazy for getting into dairying at this low time, but we have hopes that our farm will be able to sustain us through a chaotic market.

Here, you can see Becky's dad, Dave shoveling up feed for the eager girls.

Also, I think we may have mentioned this but Becky has begun baking breads for our customers now. She has tried a traditional white, sourdough and wheat. They have all turned out amazing. We tried to grind our own wheat that we grew but didn't have a grinder. We washed them and dried them and tried to put them in a food processor but the little kernels were far too hard and didn't do much. So, instead, we roasted them and eat them as a great snack. The breads are really good by the way; we go through about three loaves a week, and, at 7 a.m. as I am writing this, Elly has just been woken from slumber by the smell of it baking and mumbled a half-coherent, "bbbreaddd?" (cute, not zombie-like).

Well, I think that's about it. If you would like more information on the many benefits of raw milk, we'd love to talk with you. We hope you all have a blessed and highly productive day!

Andy, Becky, Elly & (coming this weekend we hope!!!) Ethan