"The World is Round and the Place Which May Seem Like the End May Also be the Beginning". -Ivy Baker Priest

What a week. A crash course in the lessons of TNR (Trap, Neuter, Return) or in this case Trap, Socialize, Neuter and Adopt. Let's go back to how this 'little' project started.

About 5 months ago Kyle and I were on our way to town. We were both hungry so we decided to stop at the Burger King along the way for a milkshake. I've known there was a colony of feral cats behind this BK since we've moved here. There was always food and water left out, and the cats looked happy with their life there. I was always curious who was managing this colony. I noticed once before that one cat's ear was 'tipped.'

(For those who might not be familiar with TNR (like me prior to working in animal welfare) a cat is ear 'tipped' when it is trapped and sterilized and then returned to it's environment. While under anesthesia the vet preforming the spay/neuter surgery will clip the tip of the left ear of the cat. This way when viewed from afar (or with binoculars) you can identify which cats in the colony are already 'fixed' and does not need to be re-trapped.)

So I knew for years someone was taking care and 'fixing' all the cats in this colony. It just so happened that the night we went for our milkshake was the night the colony managers were out trapping! When Kyle pulled up to the drive through I saw two ladies out there with humane traps. I jump out of the car and walked over to introduce myself. They were trapping the cats to be fixed at Operation Catnip the next morning.

One of the colony managers expressed a concern. They've been trying to trap, neuter and return about 3 cats a month, and so far had about a dozen sterilized. However, there were still kittens being born in the colony faster than they're able to trap and fix them. They've had trouble finding homes for the small kittens they've caught in the past and asked if the SPCA could help with any possible future litters. I gave them my business card and told them to call me if this ever came up.

And last week my desk phone rang with a familiar voice on the other end...

There was a litter of kittens. The kittens were old enough to be away from the mother, and the colony managers needed help. I agreed to help, but said we would need a foster home for them while we wait for space to open up at the SPCA Adoption Center. The SPCA is currently in the middle of what we call "Kitten Season" and we have kittens coming out of our ears. I could not take them because I promised Kyle we wouldn't foster any kittens while Miles was still a puppy. So I encouraged and convinced the colony manager to foster.

I worked with the ladies to help trap the kittens. Last Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I sat out there for a total of 8 to 9 hours attempting to catch the little guys.

Finally, on Thursday night (one week later) I got a phone call. The colony managers caught two of the four kittens! I snatched my car keys and ran for the door. Kyle stopped me and wouldn't let me leave in my pajama bottoms. So I put on proper clothes and drove out to the Burger King parking lot.

The scared little 'teenage' kitten 

They had caught two of the baby kittens and one "teenage" kitten (on accident). This concerned me. I knew the "teenage" kitten would need a significant amount of socialization if we were to put her up for adoption at the SPCA. One of the colony managers agreed to put the time and energy into socializing the "teenage" kitten, but then wouldn't have the space or time to deal with the smaller kittens. Knowing an alternative would be to let the "teenage" kitten go, and attempt to re-trap her during the next Operation Catnip day (which would be very difficult, and would probably be pregnant by that time). I agreed to foster the baby kittens if she would take the "teenager." I caved. Sometimes the best laid plans...

Very frightened kittens in a Burger King parking lot

The two trapped kittens, frightened as hell, came home with Kyle and I that night. I was overjoyed, yet felt sorry for them. They were being plucked from the only world they knew and brought into a home environment. As I was settling these scared souls into our spare bedroom that night the quote from Ivy Baker Priest came to mind, "The world is round and the place which my seem like the end may also be the beginning."

"The world is round and the place which my seem like the 
end may also be the beginning." -Ivy Baker Priest

These little kittens have no idea about the spectacular life we work so hard to provide at the SPCA. They will never have to deal with ticks, fleas, worms, ear mites or having litter upon litter of kittens. They will never have to worry about being hit on the road, or being trapped and euthanized for being a "nuisance." They have no idea what great things are lined up for them. But tonight they are just two little Burger King kittens... sleeping in a crate in our spare bedroom. 

Ode to the Simple Things

Summer. My favorite time of year. North Carolina summers are enchanting. I sit in the hammock and watch the trees sway in the backyard. Breathe it in. The smell of freshly mowed grass, the sound tree frogs and cicada bugs, the periodic glow of fireflies... I can't get enough. This time of year never lasts long enough. I take it as a personal mission to soak in every minute. Enjoy the simple things... advice our three backyard hens heed on a daily basis.

The corn swing.
Attention chicken owners: Looking for fun environment enrichment for your feathered ladies? Introducing the corn swing! We found this neat idea while on Raleigh's Tour D'Coop (Henside the Beltline). One of the backyard chicken coops we toured had a corn cob hanging from the ceiling. The chickens were delighted at the pecking challenge. So I decided to try it with my girls.


On a lazy sunday afternoon we stopped at local curb-side produce stand along our road. They were selling sweet corn for $4/dozen. WINNING! (please excuse the bad Sheen reference). Picked up a dozen along with some peppers, onions, a tomato, mushrooms, lemon and musk melon. Did I mention I love summer?

Once home, I cut some long twine and nailed it to a beam in our chicken run, and simply tied the other end around a partially husked corn cob, and let the girl have at it! Hours of non-stop entertainment. Hmmm, I wonder what other fruits or veggies I can dangle from the hen house ceiling... oh the simple things.

Out With The Old...

What better time to take on large DIY projects than long, dreary winter weekends? That's exactly what we did last weekend. Finally, after four years of looking at our old, builder-grade, white formica kitchen countertops (completely sterile, bland)... it was time for a change. A big change!

About mid January, we started brainstorming kitchen upgrade ideas. Our house isn't that large, so even small changes have a big impact on the feel of our 1,400 sq. foot home. One thing we've always loved about our cozy home is it's cottage-feel. Surrounded by towering oak trees, a couple backyard hens, a rambling brook just a couple meters from our back door... we love the energy, and warmth of our home. We wanted the heart of our home, the kitchen, to give off that same warm, cottage-type feel.

One thing we both wanted were granite countertops. So we visited a designer in Cary who helped lead us in the right direction as far as granite goes. She was very knowledgeable in color and design, which really helped us narrow down our granite choices (thanks for the recommendation, Alice!) Then about a month goes by, and we set an appointment to visited the granite fabricator. We see all the slabs of granite and pick out the color and style we feel would best fit (both our style and budget).


About two weeks later, on a Friday afternoon, the installation began! I took the day off so the granite people could stop by in the afternoon. I sat on the couch as I heard banging, and drilling in the kitchen. Then I saw the two construction workers walk in front of me, and out the front door with the entire, sterile, white countertop in their hands and I about shrieked with glee! The one thing I hated most in this house, was finally leaving. No more yucky, leaky sink, no more ugly white counters... bigger and better things were on their way (can you tell how I loathed my kitchen countertops?)

The new countertops immediately made a huge impact on the look and feel of the room. That evening Kyle and I went straight to LOWES and bought our supplies for the next day. We already purchased our backsplash tiles... and our neighbor leant us his tile cutting saw... so we were set to go.  

Bright and early Saturday morning we started laying the backsplash. After countless YouTube.com videos... I had it under my belt. We were ready to go. Our neighbors stopped in to see how we were doing. They gave us some tips and suggestions. Luckily we have a Contractor, and an Electrician who live two houses down :) Like snails, we inched along laying tiles, cutting tiles... then cutting more tiles... finally by 1:00am that next morning we finished with laying the tiles. After a warm shower, we hit the bed. 

The next day, Sunday, we had one thing on our mind, and that was "grout." We went out for breakfast to get the day started off right. Once home (after a brief trip to LOWES for extra supplies) we put our nose the the tile-stone and got back to work. Grout is gross. It's dirty, sticky and grimy. I don't know if it will ever come off my nails. Kyle did most of the grout work, and I came behind him with a wet spunge and cleaned the tiles off. We went through buckets and buckets of water cleaning off the grout. Talk about a workout!

It sounds easy... but it took the entire weekend. We entered the work week more exhausted then we when we left it! But all in all, it was well worth it. Especially if we up'ed re-sale value... CHA CHING!  Kyle and I make a pretty darn good team, but I don't think we're going to start "flipping" houses anytime soon :)

Welcome to the family Miles!

One month ago we added a special member to our family. We adopted Miles. A 5-month-old, brindle and white, American Staffordshire Terrier mix. Yes! Kyle and I have become first-time pit bull owners! Let me tell you, I have never had a dog that cuddled as much as this little guy. This dog is really something special (of course, I say all my pets have that "something special").

What were we THINKING? A puppy? Kyle and I promised we never get a puppy. We knew that one had to be a gluten for punishment to "want" a puppy. But something struck me about this guy. I see hundreds of pets move through the halls of the SPCA; but there was special something about this one. Hitch (Miles' name while at the shelter) was a transfer to our SPCA from the local county shelter. Our AMAZING animal care staff pulled Miles out of the isolation room. He was being treated for a cough. I can't tell you *just how lucky he was* to make it out of that room alive! After the whirlwind trip the county shelter has been on lately, we are so lucky the SPCA's animal care staff brought him to the safe confines of the our shelter. 

Once Hitch recovered from his neuter surgery, it was time for him to go up for adoption. He was in the SPCA's adoption program for a couple days when... dun dun DUUUUNN: He had to go to bite quarantine. The 5-month-old puppy was being just that, a puppy. His sharp puppy teeth broke the skin of a volunteer, and policy calls that Hitch go on bite hold for 10 days. His "hard time" was served in the back room of the SPCA. This is where I fell in love with him. During that week, whenever I needed to take a break from my computer, I went back to get cuddles in the hold room. One thing led to another, and Hitch started coming home with me at night. Then he'd go back to work with me in the morning. That lead to him serving out "his sentence" in my cubicle. Then going home with me at night again. We had one "trial" week with him before he was released from bite hold with "Time Served." It was now that we had to make decision. He was going to be available for adoption to the public the next day. Kyle and I fell in love with this cuddly pup; he got along great with Duncan, and enjoyed hanging out with our two cats! 

We had talked about adopting another dog for over a year (off and on, Kyle would say). I felt in my heart it was time. We are an active family, and wanted an active dog to go running, hiking and traveling with us! Hitch seemed to fit the bill. Big D (AKA Duncan) is our cold-weather cuddle bug... but in the NC heat, we feel guilty taking him out with us sometimes. Plus Duncan (who's wears a constant poker face) didn't seem to care about the possibility of a new addition. When we discussed it with him he burped, turned his head and starred at the closet door. He sat starring at it as if pondering, how long it has been there... (that pretty much sums up Big D to a "T").

So one Friday night we put Hitch in the crate, and we seriously discussed his adoption over borritos at our favorite Mexican joint. We both had a come-to-Jesus about puppy ownership. Was this something we really wanted to take on?

Then a sign: I checked my email that evening. An adoption counselor who knew I was interested in adopting emailed me that it was 3 years to-the-day, we adopted our precious cat Riff Raff. Kyle put his hand on my lap, and we knew it was meant to be. 

Hitch, now Miles, became ours that next morning! So far Miles has learned: Sit, Stay, Beg, and Leave It commands. Psssst... did I mention he's house trained? Say what!!! It's true. But we are still working on his "complaining" when we leave him alone. Good thing is, his complaints aren't anything a yummy, juicy KONG can't fix. Beyond his "Oh, I'm a poor, little puppy and don't want to be left alone" complaints, he's a good office dog at work. 

Miles' adoption may explain why I've neglected this blog the last couple weeks. Now that our new puppy routine is solidified (somewhat) I'm excited to jump back in the blogosphere! 

From Coop to Kitchen in 2.5

Drama Queen Jolene

In an age where convenience is key, we've taught ourselves that take-out and "just add water" substitutes for a little bit of elbow grease and good 'ol grit. Earlier this week we had the invite for "GAME NIGHT" at a friend's house. I jumped on the opportunity to make some of my favorite cookies (OK- I'm no "Betty Homemaker" but I need to add a disclaimer about Darci and baking. Please note, there is a significant difference between baking and cooking. If it has to do with flour, eggs, butter and milk... I can make magic. However; if it has to do with a frying pan, or even a sauce pan heating up, it is a disaster in the making). But I really do enjoy baking. My favorite homemade cookies are oatmeal raisin. Plus, I had a recent incident involving the oatmeal dispenser at Whole Foods, involving more oatmeal than I errr, intended. Oatmeal cookies it will be!

I have been waiting for this day since last May when I brought my three little pullets home! The day I could walk down to the coop, pick up an egg, bring it back up to the house, and plop it into a bowl. Since it was a warm January day, I opened the windows. Only a few minutes earlier I heard the proud Ba-GAWKing of Drama Queen Jolene (See, hens have a long tradition of bragging about the eggs they've just laid--ok, maybe not tradition with our chicks, but you get it! Let's just say, Drama Queen Jolene didn't get her name from her modest humility). As soon as I was ready to add the eggs, I put on my shoes walked out to the coop, and within 2.5 minutes I was back in the kitchen with a freshly laid egg in my hand.

I did a quick egg shell cleaning, and cracked the incredibly thick-shelled eggs on the side of the bowl. The brightest, yellow/orange yoke fell into the mix. The cookies turned out amazing (Check out my favorite recipe blog called Smitten Kitchen), and turned out to be a fun conversation starter at the party. There was even a couple interested in raising their own backyard hens! Oh how we could go on, am I right?? Owning backyard chickens isn't all about the eggs. We realize we will never see a full return on our coop investment, even if we end up selling the eggs it would take double our little flock, and span beyond the egg laying days of the typical laying hen. See, our backyard hens mean something much more. It's more about the return to the simple things in life. The fact that I took a bite of the cookies knowing exactly where the eggs came from; that's priceless (Thanks but no thanks, Mastercard. These eggs came from my backyard)!

You Can't Make This Stuff Up...

Happy New Year's Eve! Both Kyle and I look forward to this day every year. This one however, will go down in history...

It started off as a normal day. As soon as the alarm went off, I sent my Kyle out to check for a new egg (it was his turn to feel the excitement I felt yesterday, plus it was a ploy to buy me a couple extra minutes in bed)! I am not a morning person. He came in telling me that Drama Queen Jolene was hanging out in the nesting box, but no egg. Deciding we'd check back later, we ate some breakfast, and took Big D out to the dog park for an hour.

We were both eager to check on the girls when we got home. Kyle went ahead and checked... and sure enough! There was another egg. We were both so excited! As he cleaned it off and placed it in the refrigerator I gave the girls some scratch and gently stroked their soft, soft feathers.

Since Kyle was home with me, I asked if he would help me place a zip tie loosely around one of Jolene's feet (so we could tell the difference between the two Buff Brahmas). I went into the barn to find a sturdy zip tie, when a gust of wind slammed the door shut, triggering the lock latch, thus locking me in the barn (there is no door handle on the inside of the barn door). Kyle (outside the barn) had a good laugh at my expense, and warned me never to let this happen again, showing me the correct way to secure the doors so this wouldn't ever happen again. He came in the barn to help me find a pair of scissors... when another gust of wind slammed the doors shut on both of us- locking us both inside the barn.

Pointing out the irony of our predicament, we both had a good laugh at the situation. Then it dawned on me that my three hens were free-ranging outside- alone (being the over-protective hen keeper that I am, and the fact that our neighborhood dogs are also "free range," leaving my little flock unattended is very frightening). I could hear them clucking and "BaGAOKing" happily outside... so I managed to keep my thoughts on the up and up, and stay positive. We did have chicken feed, and scratch mixed with dry oatmeal in the barn if we needed sustenance... so I wasn't worried.

Kyle thankfully had his cell phone. So while he turned into the bean-counter version of "MacGyver," I gleefully helped the situation by taking cell-phone photos of us. The brief photography session ended abruptly as I heard the dreaded beep-beep of the low-battery signal. Knowing this could really turn serious... we immediately called every neighbor we knew. We started with the neighbors closest to us... then worked out way down our road. After four calls and four, "we'll explain later" conversations, everyone seemed to be away. We had one more house on our list of neighbor friends, and thank the Lord he was home. He had a good laugh at us, as we did at ourselves!

We were locked in for a good 'bout of time, which wasn't too bad. It could have been much worse. But tonight we'll be ringing in the New Year outside the barn, and fixing the lock latch to avoid future less-humorous "catastrophes."

A Hen House Miracle!

Last night while getting ready for bed I was thinking, rather debating in my mind, whether hens could be sterile (yes, this was really last night, no joke). Is it possible that our three little hens could NEVER lay eggs and just live their lives as our little poultry pets? I mean, what do I know about my three backyard hens? Let's see... they're sweet, they have feathered feet, they're quiet, low maintenance, I found them on Craigslist, I know Brahma hens are said to be... errrr, "late bloomers," but seriously, 10 months and still no eggs! Is it possible the farmer sold me barren pullets? I was told earlier this month by a fellow, chicken-owning colleague that I would probably have to wait for eggs until spring. Since the days are shorter in the winter, they probably won't lay until March or April. So with that idea, and knowing she knows a lot more about raising backyard hens than I do... I went to bed somewhat indifferent.

This morning, after running some errands in town with Big D (Duncan, our dog), I went down to feed and check on the girls. I opened their run door to let them out and play, then opened the hutch door... when "lo and behold," there was a nice brown egg in their nesting box! I immediately dropped what I had was holding and ran to the house to grab my camera. It was such a surprise. FINALLY! I first called my grandma and grandpa (who helped me make the chicken coop, and had been asking about the first egg for months...), then called my mom and dad to share the good news! It just so happened my aunt and cousins were hanging out at the house with my folks, so everyone got to hear the surprise right away. I took a picture and texted my husband at work. Wow, talk about an adrenaline rush! I am excited to go to bed tonight, just to wake up and check for more eggs in the morning!



We began raising our small backyard flock because we wanted to know where our food comes from. We wanted to know these hens were treated with love and respect, not raised in a factory farm, never seeing the light of day. But these hens became more to us than just egg producers, they are in fact part of our diverse little family. We love them eggs or no eggs. We think of these small oval shaped presents as just that... little daily "thank you" surprises.