What Do You Do With a Kangaroo ... Er, Wallaby?

Some people keep dogs, some people keep cats, some people keep rabbits. We’ve got a wallaby (and then some, but let’s just focus on the wallaby here). We’ve done the wallaby thing before so you’d think (as we did) that we were not novices when we picked up Tabitha in the spring of this year. We had Clancy for over 13 years so we thought we had some experience, and we were right. We did have some experience. After all, we kept Clancy close by and we bottle-fed him. However, Clancy never did bond in the same way as Tabitha has. We can’t say exactly why. It may have been because he was older, or perhaps because he had a different personality, or because we didn’t know what we have learned this time. It also may have been because we got Clancy in January, so he was ready to move outside in May or June of that year. When all is said and done, this time around, we’re going to have a wallaby under foot for just about an entire year!

Clancy checking out his new shed.

Clancy at about 14 years old.

When you live in a house with a pet wallaby, you’re bound to get inquiries from the slightly envious, or the mildly disgusted, or the intensely curious. I know you’re bound to because we do. So here’s the lay of the Funny Farm household as run [ahem] influenced by a baby wallaby.

9-month-old Tabitha trying to find an itch.

“Where Do You Even Get a Wallaby?”

We got Clancy from one place, but this time we decided to try a different breeder, so we got Tabitha from Fall City Wallaby Ranch outside Seattle. I was lucky enough to be able to stay for several days when I went out to pick her up. Rex, the breeder, really loves his wallabies and kangaroos and spends quality time with them and their offspring. He was well acquainted with Tabitha since he had been bottle-feeding her for almost a month before I got there. He hadn’t intended to “pull her” (meaning remove her from her mother) until I arrived, but her mother became ill, so Rex had to pull her earlier than he wanted, even though I couldn’t be there yet. He really tried to talk me into a different joey because Tabitha was very small, but I loved her immediately and I guess he decided that I’d be okay because he let me bring her home.

Looking out the window to the wallaby, kangaroo, and 
wallaroo enclosures at Fall City Wallaby Ranch.
 If you are ever in Seattle, take the tour!

Rex holding Tabitha (8 months old)

Tabitha and Rex interacting.

“What Do You Feed a Pet Wallaby?”

We buy her milk formula from Wombaroo because it’s specially formulated for wallabies and kangaroos.

I started off having to feed her every four hours. Two of those feeding times meant I had to get up in the middle of my night to feed her and stimulate her to urinate in the playpen ‘litter box.’ This was good news since she has bonded well, but the bad news? I need a lot of sleep and I felt like a new mom. We were glad when we could cut one of the feeding times and instead feed her immediately before I went to bed and the moment I got up.

Now that she is fifteen months old, Tabitha also eats grass, hay (getting her ready for when there is no grass), and a special dry feed made for wallabies and kangaroos called L’il Hopper. Eventually she will graduate to Happy Hopper – same company, but made for older wallabies and kangaroos.

9-month old Tabitha taking a bottle.

10 month old Tabitha out in the grass and weeds.

11-month old Tabitha taking a bottle.

“Is She Litter-Box Trained?”

This is the #1 question that I am asked. Simple answer? Sort of. She is pretty good about urinating in her playpen on doggie pads. The side of the pen has been cut open so she can get in and out easily. Most of the time her scat (feces) is small and firm and can be swept up – because she drops fecal matter everywhere – though mostly on tile floors and doggie pads we have now put down in her ‘favorite’ places. Yes, she has bowel movements when she is in her pouch. Usually it is easily removed – dumping the scat out over the garbage can or outside. 
Once in a while the scat can be looser and messier and harder to clean up from the pouch or wherever. Sometimes she decides to urinate on the tile or the plastic, and sometimes her bowels are loose. Do you recognize the problem here? It is called a tail! Even though she doesn’t step in it, her tail drags through it . . . so we sometimes get trails of, well, whatever.

Occasionally, like when we leave her home alone, Tabitha has been known to leave scat and urine on our bed. So, every morning I cover the bed with a plastic drop cloth and throw a couple of dog pads up there.

“Does She Jump All Over The House?”

Well, speaking of the bed, it is high (even for a bed) -- about 3 feet off the floor (because it has drawers underneath) -- and Tabitha can jump up on it from a sitting position on the floor. This means that she can jump on furniture, tables, chairs, counters, etc. So far she has limited herself to the bed, the hearth, and one of the bathroom counters. We may have encouraged these limitations by making sure every door is closed along the hallway and we have gates up to keep her out of the living room and basement.

Tabitha on our 3 foot high bed. 

The hearth

A bathroom counter...

“What’s It Like Living With a Wallaby?”

What about other aspects of a wallaby as miniature roomie?  

Well, for one thing, she chews on things such as my good sneaker laces, David’s biking gloves, and the straps of her pouches. She has also stripped wallpaper off the wall and chewed on the carpet.  On the bright side, I guess I might finally learn to put things away, I wanted the wallpaper off the wall, and we needed new carpet before Tabitha.

My poor shoelace.

Our poor carpeting and our wallpaper.

Even the toilet paper is not safe!

One of the fun things about Tabitha being in the house!

Tabitha waiting at the door for me.

 For another thing, she doesn’t seem to share her space so well. She hisses at our border collie, Amos.

Her hiss is soft and quiet and isn’t all that intimidating unless you’re an ant. However, he is a passive dog and tries to stay away from her. She will follow him around, and once in a while he finally growls. Soon we will see how she does with our mini pig, Neum. He comes inside at night, but goes directly to his crate, so there hasn’t been much interaction. However, with colder weather coming, he will be inside a lot more. I may have another post when we see how that relationship shakes out.

Then again, there are many great things about having Tabitha in the house. There is still a lot of bonding time. She now comes and demands a bottle when she wants it and she often drinks a little and comes more often during the day. This is probably more what would happen if she was in the wild. I know that my goat kids sip a bit from the doe and play and sip a bit and go, etc. They never stand and drink like the ones I’ve bottle-fed have been expected to. I still get to cuddle her when she is in one of her pouches.

She isn’t crazy about being held without a pouch, but she is very cuddly when she is in one. She still wants attention – and we’d miss that if she was outside. When we take her out and let her do her own thing, she likes it, but she wants me where she can keep an eye on me. That’s really okay, of course, because at fifteen months old, she would still be hanging out with her mom if she were in the wild.

Still, even with all the nice things about having a wallaby close at hand, we will all be happy when spring comes and Tabitha moves into Clancy’s old digs, because, when it comes down to it, a human house isn’t really designed for even the cutest, sweetest little macropod.

Wallaby development for the first 13 months.

Talking Turkey....cuz Turkey Day is Coming --

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, it seems appropriate to talk turkey.  Here are some things you might not know about the turkey:

1. With about 600 million turkeys in the world (National Geographic, May 2011), about 90% of Americans eat turkey at Thanksgiving and 50% consume turkey at Christmas (www.home.aristotle.net/Thanksgiving/trivia-submit.asp  2012).  

A white broadbreasted and a Spanish black heritage turkey -- the same age.

2. Turkeys are the only breed of poultry native to the Western Hemisphere, with the first turkeys being domesticated in Mexico and South America (www.infoplease.com/spot/tgturkeyfacts.html  2012), and there is evidence that they have been around for over 10 million years (www.baltimoremd.com/content/turkey1.html  2012). 

Turkeys are curious birds and investigate everything -
and we haven't had one drown in the plastic goose/duck pond,
though my cousin said that she had one that drowned in a trough
(it got in and couldn't get out).

3. Contrary to popular belief and in spite of the musical that I really like (1776), Benjamin Franklin did not go head to head with others in favor of the turkey being the national bird.  The legend seems to have originated with a letter to his daughter about six months after the national coat of arms was accepted with the bald eagle as the national bird.  His letter mainly referenced his feelings about a military fraternity and after finding fault with the society's motives and its concept, he writes:

    Others object to the Bald Eagle, as looking too much like a Dindon, or Turkey. For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen as the Representative of our Country. His a Bird of bad moral Character...Besides his a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District. His therefore by no means a proper Emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our Country, tho' exactly fit for that Order of Knights which the French call Chevaliers d'Industrie.

 I am on this account not displeas'd that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turkey. For in Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bid, and withal a true original Native of America...He is besides, tho' a little vain and silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Genadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.

 So, while Benjamin Franklin may not have been that happy with the choice of the Bald Eagle, he never actively promoted the turkey (www.americanheraldry.org/pages/index.php?n=MMM.Turkey?action=print).  The things we learn in history class...

I left the dog kennel open and came home to roosting turkeys. 
When they saw me, they came to greet me. 
Who wouldn't like that?!?

4.  Several sources claim that, unlike wild turkeys, domesticated turkeys can't fly.  It is clear that they haven't been to GEE Funny Farm where our turkeys fly short distances on a regular basis.  While we have mostly heritage turkeys that are much more similar to wild turkeys in build and functioning ability, we happen to have a broad-breasted turkey who flies over our six foot fences on a regular basis -- which surprised even us, since that has not been our experience before.

Several of my heritage turkeys, at a young age,
roosting on our 6 foot kennel fence. 
Yep, they flew up there.

5. And finally, there is the claim that domesticated turkeys are so dumb that they will look up at falling rain and end up drowning.  Snopes says it ain't so. And we certainly haven't had that experience.  You can go to Snopes to find out what they believe caused the myth.



My favorite turkey, Sariah, coming
to visit at the front door. 

Sariah at the back door.
How can I not love this bird who seeks me out?

While we have heard from people that turkeys are 'dumb.' Ours come when called and know where to find food and water (including from the dishes of the other animals on the other side of the fence).  And while we may be among the Americans enjoying turkey at one of our holiday meals, we really love and appreciate our birds.  We are glad that they enjoy a life of leisure and fun as they wander where they will every day and that they have a secure place to go at night (from which they can and do escape if I'm not on hand when they feel it is time to get going in the morning - they fly through the opening between fence and 'roof.')  I really like turkeys...and not just eating them.

Another Weird Pet (Back Then)

 While David and I were newly married, my best friend showed up with a weird critter.  It was a ferret. 

While ferrets are common in pet stores these days, back in the 1970s they were practically unheard of. I thought it was so cool that I found one (I think Robyn, my friend, actually found it).  We named her Meshach.  She was very clever and active and fun.  And a few months later she disappeared in Robyn’s trailer house.  We thought she went through a small hole in the bathroom.  David made small holes in the bottom of the trailer, trying to find her.  We never did.  I cried for days.  I often wonder what happened. (Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Rhoton for the holes we left in the trailer – they probably didn’t help the insulation).

A while later, we found another ferret for sale.  I was glad that Monamie was darker since Meshach had been white.  When we found Shawnicey, it didn't matter that he was white.  He was so playful!

      

Monamie

Shawnicey playing with my parents' puppy.

 

And then the Sheriff’s office was called because a woman woke up at a truckstop with a strange ‘rat-like’ animal sitting on her chest.  She was totally freaked!!  At the time, I was a dispatcher for the Department of Public Safety (Highway Patrol) and someone at the Sheriff’s office knew I had ferrets.  They called, after the one they had found was quarantined and no one claimed him, and asked if I wanted him.  Umm, of course I did.  At first, Shawnicey and Monte 'argued' a little and I figured it was just to establish pecking order, so we thought it would all work out.  Later, they were very aggressive with each other, so they couldn't be let out at the same time, and we had to have separate cages for them.

Monte (found at a truck stop) at the Sheriff's office in Williams.
We took Monamie and Shawnicey in to see if they would get along.

We thought three ferrets were enough (especially since the boys didn't get along), but then we met  a poor little ferret that I am sure had brain damage.  She was sweet, but seemed totally out of it a lot of the time.  All of the other ferrets accepted her, so she came to our house to live. 



Bandite, the weird little ferret.

We tried breeding them, and had one litter.  None of the babies survived, and we didn't want to go through that again, so we had them all neutered and descented – no, they weren’t sold that way back then -- which improved their smell considerably, though not completely.   Ferrets have a built in defense system similar to a skunk's. They have a very unpleasant odor when they become frightened, though not as strong as a skunk's and it dissipates a lot with soap and water.  Even descented, and in the best of circumstances, ferrets have a musky odor.  Sometimes, with some perfumes or colognes, I think of ferrets.

Shawnicey getting a 'bath.'

Our ferrets were smart.  They knew that they had to use the litter box before they could be out in the house.  They were pretty good about using it anyway, but it was a requirement before they could leave the cage.  They liked attention and they were fun to watch. Ferrets, handled a lot, are friendly and playful.  They are curious and like to investigate everything!

 

 

 

We had the ferrets long enough that our oldest son played with them.  While I've heard of ferrets hurting children, ours were friendly and liked attention.  We were always with our son when he handled the ferrets and it is very important to spend a lot of time with ferrets or any other exotic animal pet.

Picking the ferret up.

Carrying him around.

Putting him away (notice Monamie at his feet).

Something that was interesting to me was that, while I had never heard of ferrets before and a lot of people who saw us out walking our little business (group of ferrets), both of my grandfathers had had ferrets when they were younger.  My paternal grandfather had passed away, but my grandmother told how he had used ferrets for hunting rabbits.  He sent the ferret into the hole to chase the rabbit out.  He and other hunters would be at other rabbit holes and bag the rabbit as it came out.  Sometimes the ferret would catch a rabbit, eat it, and fall asleep in the hole.  Then my grandfather would go back later to get it when the ferret would make its way out. Who knew?!?  My maternal grandfather didn’t actually own the ferret, but he told how they used it in a factory where he worked to keep the vermin down.  My grandparents were not particularly impressed that we had them as pets.

We had them for about 8 years – They moved from Arizona to Virginia with us.  Three of them passed away (two were not babies when we got them – they were longer lived than the ones people get now). One of the ones who passed away had a tumor (I still have the x-ray somewhere), and I guess that is common even today. One we gave to my veterinarian’s kids when we were moving into an apartment in a different state (Missouri) and couldn’t take him.

I've been asked why we don't have them now.  I was glad that I had ferrets.  Because people started breeding them when they first became popular, ferrets now have many more health problems than they did at first - breeders don't always worry about inbreeding, breeding even if their animal has defects, etc. Also, my daughter had them for a while as a teen, and even with handling, they weren't as responsive as our first ones were.  I don't know if that is breeding, or because there are so many that they don't get attention when they are very young.  So, no ferrets for now.

I liked the uniqueness of the ferrets.  Each had its own personality, like all animals, and they were interesting.  I liked taking them for short walks (they kind of went their own way and I followed along so I guess they actually took ME for walks).  While we lived in Virginia, I took them to the Science Center and did presentations with them -- the pros and cons of having them.  Plus, I don’t know if I would have heard the stories about my grandfathers if I had not gotten them.  That might have made it worth it in any case!

 

A side note:  In the photo album where I found the pictures, I wrote, "We have talked about starting a small zoo with many unusual pets."  David won't confirm that he thought that, but it is there is writing! 

My Not Quite a Pet Exotic Pet - Sam

When I was in Junior High school, my dad opened a second hand store across town.  He was quite the wheeler-dealer and he ended up with a peculiar looking animal that he planned to put in the window to draw people into the store.

The owner of the animal brought it in and it got loose.  It went into a carpet roll or something like that and my dad told me to go in and get it.  I started to go and the guy said, “Hey, that animal bites, don’t send her after it.”  My dad said, “She can get it.” And I did.

One of my favorite people was the elementary school librarian (she was MY librarian when I was at the elementary school and my mom’s friend – my mom was a first grade teacher at the same school).  Mrs. Rush started researching to find out what this odd animal was.  After a couple of days she announced that it was a vulpine phalanger. 

 

Not long after that, a student from Northern Arizona University came by.  He was from Australia and he said, “I heard you had a vulpine phalanger – what would you want with one of those!!  They are real pests!  Farmers hate them!” 

 

Vulpine phalangers are marsupials and are sort of like our opossums.  They are considered to be nuisances.

Meanwhile, once Sam was put into his cage, my dad said that I shouldn’t try to handle him because I might get bit – go figure.  However, I worked at the store on Saturdays and my dad was barbering, so I would open the cage and give Sam carrots and other veggies.  I wasn’t disobedient enough to handle him, but he did get where he would come and sit by me because I gave him treats.

Aren't vulpine phalangers cute?!?

 

Maybe my dad got more cautious after he saw his teeth!

Eventually, my dad sold him (maybe he found out I was hand feeding him).  I was sad.

 A couple of guys from school came by and for the next four years (through junior high and high school) they called me Sam because of the vulpine phalanger. 

 

Hooray! It's Shearing Day!

After a crazy winter that seemed to stretch well into April, we finally got our sheep, alpacas, llamas, and Angora goat sheared.  I appreciate people who can shear – they make it look easy.

When we only had two sheep, after seeing a shearer at a fair, I thought, “I can do that.”  I ordered hand shears and gave it a try.  After an hour, with little results, I thought I’d better get electric clippers.  So, I ordered them.  I followed directions and tried again.  The sheep was a Merino – they have a lot of fold in their skin and their wool is very dense.  After four days, and my poor sheep looking a mess, I gave up.

The next year I had two sheep and two llamas and hired a shearer.  He pulled into my driveway and pulled out of my driveway 30 minutes later.  My sheep and llamas looked relieved, the fiber was mostly in one piece each, and I had hardly broken a sweat (I did catch the sheep and llamas and bagged the fiber).

Since then, we’ve hired shearers.  We appreciate them.  They do a much better job than I could (at least without a lot of practice). 

Shearing is like giving the animal a haircut.  However, it is tricky.  The goal is to do it with the fiber coming off as one piece.  If the shearer misses some fiber and goes back to get it with another cut, it is called a second cut.  The goal is one cut and one fleece in one piece.  All shearers have some second cuts.  However, the fewer the shearer has the better for the fiber holder.

The fiber is an excellent insulator on sheep as well as on people…you can almost see the llamas and alpacas breathe a sigh of relief as the fiber comes off.  One year we had a particularly hot May and the alpacas and llamas were acting up until the first swipe of the shears.  As the fiber fell away, they held completely still ready for the relief!

So, how did it turn out yesterday?  Here are some before and after pictures of our animals…

Abinadi and Liahona waiting...

Vonnegut wating...

Hosea and Nephi waiting..

 



All of the llamas and alpacas done!

 

So, following are before and after pictures of our sheep and goat...





 

 

You can see pictures of Shiblon, our Angora goat, being sheared and the end
result on our GEE Funny Farm Facebook page.

Sheep skin is very thin and easy to cut.  One more reason to let a professional shear my sheep!

I found a video clip on Youtube that shows a professional sheep shearer.  He makes it look so easy - which is true of most professionals, don't you think?!?

Sheep Shearing Made Simple by David Duke

Enjoy!


Now That Was Eye Opening by guest writer Keegan Taylor

Somebody from church was given a turkey awhile back, and he gave it to us. We've had it in our basement freezer for awhile now, and I thought I should just go ahead and bake it. I've never baked a turkey before, but I brined it and mish-mashed several recipes together to prepare it, and -- voila! -- my final masterpiece.

Here's the thing, though, in the last couple of years, I've read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver as well as Some We Love, Some We Hate, Some We Eat (twice) by Hal Herzog. My parents have also recently been sharing some things they learned from Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. National Geographic also recently had a feature article on feeding our hungry planet. I also have a few friends who are vegan or who have moved in that direction. So generally, overall, I've become more informed about what it takes to create all the meat we consume. I get it and I feel concerned about it, though I haven't figured out how my moral feelings will govern my behavior.

But fixing this turkey was just one step more on the road towards cutting back on meat consumption. When you handle a whole turkey, you see how much meat is on this one animal. This was an 11 pound turkey.

I have some familiarity with animals because of my mom's farm. That experience mixed with my most recent major efforts in the kitchen combined to give me a truly hands-on understanding of what's going on here.

In Some We Love by Hal Herzog, he describes the life of the chicken on your plate in the hen house:

"Cheap meat comes at a cost. A broiler chicken's bones cannot keep up with the explosive growth of its body. Unnaturally large breasts torque a chicken's legs, causing lameness, ruptured tendons, and twisted leg syndrome. According to Donald Broome, professor of animal welfare at Cambridge University, severe leg pain in chickens is the world's largest animal welfare problem. Arthritis, heart disease, sudden death syndrome, and a host of metabolic disorders are prevalent among industrial broilers.

"The living conditions of the animals destined to become chicken nuggets are Dante-esque. The chicks will never see sun nor sky. Because they are so top-heavy, broiler chickens spend most of their day lying down, often in litter contaminated with excrement. As a result, many will develop breast blisters, hock burns, and sores on their feet . . ."

So I've read that before and I've felt anxious about our food consumption around here, with five meat-eaters. But when you have a meat-made turkey lying on your cutting board and you're handling that thing, you can see that there is a very high meat-to-bone ratio. My mom has turkeys. They are the sweetest, most contented things. My mom loves them, because they follow her around and live in a little happy troupe. In the summertime, they have the run of the yard and they mostly forage for their own food. With that turkey in my kitchen, I imagined plucking my mom's healthy, wholesome turkeys and I knew that they would not look like this. They are not the same kind of turkey, but that's the point. The kind of turkey we're consuming in massive amounts are not, by design, healthy animals.

When my parents bought the farm property they now live on an older couple lived there. They owned a horse, a pony, and a sheep, which my parents inherited with purchase of the property. The three animals had all been excessively grain-fed. The pony suffered severe laminitis and the sheep -- the sheep was a horrid, massive, bulky creature whom we named "Mammoth." There was no hope for him by the time we inherited the property. My mom weaned back his grain consumption but he was too far gone. There came a day when the beast could no longer rise. He was just plain too heavy for his own legs. A neighbor came and put an end to Mammoth, may he rest in peace. Now, I know I've gone from turkeys to chickens to turkeys to sheep, but the point here is I would never have wanted to eat that well-fed enormous sheep, but I do regularly eat equivalent kinds of chickens and turkeys. Unfortunately, when I put that turkey meat in my mouth, no matter the fact that I'd been pondering the unfortunate circumstances of its life, I still felt satisfied and pleased with the taste of the turkey. It would be so much easier to align my beliefs and actions if I didn't like the taste of animals.

I'm not really sure what affect this experience will have on our meat consumption around here. My husband isn't all that fond of turkey anyway. When I told him about my experience with the turkey, I said, "Are you listening? Do you care?"

"Yeah. I heard you," he replied, "But, ya know, cruelty just tastes good."

He said this tongue-in-cheek about the turkey because he doesn't even like turkey. But he (and I) do like beef and pork and chicken. But I'd like to think that we weren't so crass as to feel that cruelty does taste good. I'd like to cut back on our meat consumption because that turkey on my table demonstrated full-on that grocery-store poultry absolutely truly is the result of some cruel experimentation, and I don't particularly want to be a party to it.