The Good Life with Sue Edmonds

I guess I've always been a countrywoman at heart, although
I've had several stints of city living during the years.

Some of my antecedents were lowly farm workers in England, and most of my early memories (in the time after WWII) are of country living involving neighbouring cows, bantams, breeding pelt rabbits and absorbing what nature had to offer at different times of the year.

So after a somewhat peripatetic life, which involved a number of different schools, different houses and never seeming to really belong anywhere, living on my block at Eureka has been like a country homecoming. Somewhere I'm determined to stay until age and infirmity drive me off.

I've probably written a lot about my ‘tribe' of animals and living with them and caring for them really gives a focus and meaning to life. This morning when I went out first thing to move the electric fence tape (which is very rarely turned on these days), they were all standing near the back gate, waiting for our morning rituals.
With the apple season finished, my dressing gown pockets these days contain pieces of carrot, eagerly awaited by one goat and two donkeys. The others aren't fussed on carrots.

But everyone requires their own special recognition by mum. Tulip donk likes a forehead to forehead rub, after she has scrunched her carrot bits. Tomas a neck hug. Snowy goat stands on the gate rungs for his carrot bits before getting down and backing away. Lily goat likes an all over scratch to ease her moulting coat. Rosie cow wants a poll scratch and Sally a big hug as well.

They are all gentle beasties these days and always pleased to see me.

They have their moments though. Sally cow decided last weekend that the grass was better over the fence in the tree line. She knows such behaviour isn't approved of and when I went out with a friend, who was instructed to take down the wire gate, Sally took one look at me and bolted the length of the trees and through that gate before I said a word.

The donkeys' feet had suffered from excessive spring growth and they were down at heel for real. The farrier came and hacked off an inch or so, but Tulip spent a week protesting silently that she felt he'd overdone it. This involved much deep breathing and lots of lying outside the back gate, but she got over it.

Goat feet seem to grow at light speed and in spring I never seem to catch up with them. As they are almost impossible to trim when very dry, I've been praying for some rain to soften them up. When her feet need trimming, Lily tends to find some long grass (always on the wrong side of the tape), lie down and munch round herself.
They do all take work to look after them. Combing all six during the moulting season requires stamina, even though they all stand still while it's done. But the affection they give back is worth all the effort.