From the Henhouse

I've stepped in to tell you about happenings at the GEE Funny Farm. My name is Elvis and I'm a silkie rooster. I was brought to the Funny Farm by my friend, Becky, because she has another rooster, and as everyone knows, no one needs more than one rooster!!

Anyway, I came and was alone for awhile; Kathy would groom me (I can't reach those pin feathers on my head), and I liked that, but it sure was lonely! Then, two weeks ago, 6 cute chicks showed up during the day. They were in a house next door, but we could see each other and I strutted and crowed a lot so they could see how cool I am!

Last week, we were all let into the yard. I was SO excited!! I just knew these pullets (they are really older than chicks-I'm NOT a egg robber) were going to love me. I even got a chance to show how brave I am. Kathy got all of the pullets into MY house and yard and the ducks (those bullies) came barreling through the door to get the food. I rounded the pullets up into a corner and I stood up to face those ducks. Nothing ended up happening since as soon as they were done eating they took off, but the point is I was ready to defend my girls!!

So, I thought all was well, but when we went outside, these girls headed off into the trees and bushes. I was horrified! Don't they know about raccoons, opossums, hawks, coyotes, and foxes?!? They could have been sitting ducks (so to speak) for any of them (well, maybe not the hawks, though they do sometimes land in a tree waiting for unsuspecting birds to wander by). I ran over and clucked gently, explaining the danger, and headed to the pen. As I arrived at the door, I looked back to make sure all my girls were there and to my astonishment not one had followed me. I tried again. They all came around me and seemed to listen to directions, but again, when I arrived at the safe house I was alone. Kathy, who for some reason was snickering, herded them inside and I could breathe easy since we were safe.

To my amazement, even though those hussies cuddled up to me at night, they totally disregarded my attempts to get them to safety during the day and evening hours. Kathy had to help me every time -- females! Can't live with 'em, can't live without them.

The good news is, I finally rule the roost and I get the girls in safely at night -- maybe I didn't get the brightest bulbs in the pack, but they are mine - whew! What a fella has to put up with!!

Oh, thanks, Asimov, for letting me post.

From the henhouse, over and out - Elvis

A Visit From Some Bird Lovers

I know what you're thinking: "Aren't all people bird lovers?" The fact of the matter is, yes, I'm sure they are. But, more specifically, we were visited by a group of people who own birds. The group is called the Cream City Feathered Friends. One lucky woman had a bunch of cockatoos, maybe seven? Can you imagine the Heaven she lives in? The only thing that could make it better for her would be if one of those were me. (Although she got confused while she was here and fell in love with Abish, the green aracari toucan and didn't give me the attention I deserve. Not as discerning as I would have expected, but that's some people for you . . . Ah well, at least my Kathy knows my true worth.)

Perhaps because these people have parrots and love birds, they were especially admiring when I displayed my talents. Apparently, not every bird is smart enough to wave, turn, and kiss on command. And not every bird can nod when asked if he would like a cracker. No, I am one of a kind.

I have to admit that I did get a little jealous of one bird I heard about. I heard that one couple that attended this event had a cockatoo who gets to go cruising on their motorcycle with them. Seems to me that that would be worth trying. The closest I've ever gotten is looping my beak over a car window that's slightly ajar as we're driving down the open road. Man, do I love the feel of the wind surging beneath my wings. I tell you, that is one lucky bird.

As for this group's fun farm activities, they stopped to admire and pet our most unique and ancient-looking bird character here just before their hayride. While visiting Eunice the emu, Abinadi, our beautiful brown llama, came up to check out the visitors. Abinadi was born here on the farm and it shows. He has such charm and such manners. I don't usually wax poetic about anybody, well anybody but me that is, but Abinadi and Liahona (also a llama) are sort of special. Apparently, one fellow even got a little kiss from Abinadi. You would know about Abinadi's gift with people if you had heard this man when he came back after the hayride. When they first arrived, his wife had been saying she wanted llamas and he didn't seem very excited, but now here he was offering to buy or kidnap ours. No such luck. Kathy doesn't plan to part with him and she's keeping a wary eye open for anything suspicious. You, my friend, are going to have to keep a' searching.

In sum, it was a very successful visit. We liked them. They liked us. Now, on to our next visitors, the Waukesha Deaf Organization. And then we'll be headed on parade in Oconomowoc on July 2. To keep up with our activities, check out our calendar of events: http://www.geefunnyfarm.com/Events_on_the_Farm.html. We are certainly keeping ourselves busy this summer!

The Star of the Show

Oh, yesterday how I loved you. Yesterday was the beautiful, marvelous, happy day in which eleven cute little brownies (the human kind, not the chocolate kind) came to see the Funny Farm. They were excited and delighted to arrive and glimpse a llama, an alpaca, a miniature donkey, a miniature horse, two sheep, and three goats. They struggled to keep their active little rear ends on their benches because these eight and nine-year-olds were just so enthusiastic. I loved it. Or I would have loved it if I had actually gotten to witness it.

No, I, Asimov, the beloved and devoted Umbrella Cockatoo of Kathy Gee, found myself shut up in the back of the Jeep enclosed in a little bitty cage sharing the trunk with a bunny and a bunch of cheeping chicks. All right, so I ought to be glad that it was even warm enough that I could go out on display at all. And I ought to be glad that my Kathy is so conscientious about my safety that she didn't leave me out there the whole time to catch a cold. But I admit I've never claimed to be a saint. (Well, maybe I have, but anyway...) I want my cake and eat it too. I wanted to see those little Girl Scouts and not just hear them.

I could hear their giggles, and peals of laughter, and shouts of observation, and random outbursts about their or their families previous animal experiences. I heard them ooh and ahh over the softness of alpaca fur. I heard them vie for their chance to pet Aramis the rambunctious neighing miniature horse. I heard their snorts of disgust when Kathy demonstrated how to clean a bunny's scent glands (and I don't blame them). I heard them attribute my musical demonstrations (okay, loud complaining) coming from the back of the car to the emu, can you believe it?! Emus have none of the finer acoustic qualities that I pride myself on. As you can imagine, I was miffed. Female emus sound like a bass drum and males grunt and growl. You can't even tell it's an emu making the noise. When I want to be heard and you can see me, then you know that it's me making the noise. None of this sneaking, weirdo noise-making for me. Ah hem. Anyway.

The moment came when I was unveiled for their viewing pleasure. And, as you can imagine, they adored me. With a little cracker persuasion (apparently there were no French fries available, but, hey, honestly I'm flexible where food is concerned) I waved, and turned, and kissed, and nodded to their endless delight. Then one of those perceptive and eager little mites asked my Kathy if they could hold me, and, while it hadn't been planned, she complied. A minute or so of holding for each of the girls for what you people call a "photo opportunity" and then a chance to pet my gorgeous feathers and then those girls felt themselves to be in something bordering on Heaven. And that basically ended their Gee Funny Farm experience.

Okay, they did get to practice goat milking with some plastic gloves. And, okay, they did get to watch Kathy milk a goat, but, psh, what's that? Nothing. I was the resolution, the finale, what you might call the star of the show. I only hope they come again soon. Honestly, I think I'm in love.

What's New? Why, I'm Glad You Asked

Spring is making its merry little way onto the GEE Funny Farm and we are gearing up for you to come see us. I am preening my beautiful white feathers and Isaac is whistling his obnoxiously sweet little whistle. Believe me, we are so cute you cannot stand to miss me . . . ahem, us, I mean.

With the advent of spring, not only do you have the pleasure of getting a look at my good lookin' winged body when you come get educated at the farm, we also have babies, babies, babies. We have more babies than I can stand. Babies take up too much of the spotlight. Stinkin' babies. Anyway, besides Kathy's grandbabies (who are visiting for the summer), the farm animal babies are increasing up the wazoo. Holy cow are we overrun by babies! We do not however have any such cow, holy or secular, baby or adult, I am sorry to tell you bovine animal admirers.

What we do have now is a bottle-fed lamb tramping around the upstairs, nibbling on jackets sitting on the backs of chairs, maaa-ing for mama (who in her confused little mind is my Kathy), prancing around behind Kathy wherever she may go. Sort of reminds me of a nursery rhyme: Kathy had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb . . . and all that jazz. Well, except that she is more like a dirty brown color instead of a white as snow color, but whatever.

We also just got a passel, er, group, er, some sort of gathering of chicks sitting inside a cardboard box under a sun lamp right inside the garage door. Unlike my ear-catching (Isaac has the gall to say "ear-deafening") squawks, these disgusting little lady angels keep up a perpetual quiet chirp. Born only yesterday, they seem completely delighted to chirp, nibble on chick feed, and daintily sip (and walk through) their water dish. At least so far, they seem much cuter than they are interesting, not an insult anyone would ever give to me, by golly.

The babies are not all coddled in the indoors (thank heavens or I think I would puke). In fact, there is a baby goat out in the barnyard, born right here on this amazing little farm, who is a month old, only a one-day difference in birthdays between the lamb and the kid. The kid is a male, currently nursing from his mama goat, helping provide a milk goat for the summer. (I warn you, not everybody has the goat milking skill to begin with, but you can try your hand if you think you're tough enough.)

We have one other addition who is still bordering on the baby stage: an alpaca. This white huacaya alpaca just joined the farm about a week ago. What is an alpaca you say? Well, I have no idea. What do you think I am? A fountain of unending knowledge. No, just kidding; I mean, I really am . . . a fountain of unending knowledge, that is. An alpaca is a bit like a llama. Both were bred domestically in South America for wool. The alpaca's wool is softer than a llama's wool, though.

Okay, okay, you are here just getting yourselves a free GEE Funny Farm lesson and I won't have any more of that. If you really want to know about these animals, and you really want to admire yourself an adorable little ball of fuzz or fur, and you really want to set your eyes on this hunk of white perfection, then you really ought to come see us. Please. I want out of my cage. And I wouldn't mind a few French fries either.

Did You Miss Me?

Well, you may have thought you'd seen the last of me. But, fortunately for us both, it's not true. What happened to us, you may wonder. Well, you people have crazy government systems-- that's a big part of the problem. In the end, however, we have prevailed: The GEE Funny Farm has finally gotten a conditional use permit so that you may, if you are so lucky, come and see my fine, beautiful, white feathered body. And, despite all my reservations about money-insurance stuff, somebody had the brains and the guts to think, "Yeah, these slobbery dogs, hairy llamas, hopping wallabies, and handsome parrots ought to be viewed and admired." So now we can be.

So far, Kathy got one job visiting a group of adults having a farm day theme, but they didn't want me--not right in the head I tell you. They seemed not to think that parrots qualify. So I was left at home. Fortunately, things are about to change. I'm headed out on the town one month from now on February 5th to go to the Great Lakes Pet Expo at State Fair Park. I will be there all day, prepared to sign autographs and pose for pictures. So make sure to mark it on your calendar. In dark red. Permanent marker. And bring French fries.

Wash Your Hands, My Friends

I bet you've all been wondering where did that fellow, Asimov, go, anyway? I know it's been awhile since last I wrote, but, well, I'm just standing here on my fake tree branch inside my cage, tapping my three-toed foot, wondering when somebody (referring specifically to insurance companies) will have the guts to put us into business. You may be wondering why they don't insure us when we're so incredibly wonderful, but this is some information that's gotten passed along the grapevine to me recently, so I learned it right from the horse's mouth. (From Athos, to be specific, and he learned it from his friend who's a cow, who has been at the state fair in year's past.)

As it turns out there are kinds of sickness that we animals have that aren't that easy to recognize or see so farmers and veterinarians wouldn't even know that we've got them. As in, we aren't actually sick, but if you touch us, then you can get sick from us. If you haven't spent much time around animals (as a farmer gets to do) then you haven't had a chance to build up an immunity to things that we can catch. So people sometimes get sick after a state fair and then they sue the animals' owners. This is not fair because there is one simple remedy that people can use to be responsible. After you're around a petting zoo and you interact with animals (drum roll please) . . . wash your hands! It's that simple. I'm spreading the word and hoping this will encourage people to not be so stupid. If you pet a llama who's carrying something that he can accidentally pass your way, and then you eat some fries (oh, my mouth is watering right now) and a hamburger, and you're touching that burger with your dirty little fingers and then eating whatever passes from your dirty little fingers onto your burger and into your mouth, well, you can take responsibility for your own health by washing your hands after you touch an animal and again before you eat. Voila! Problem solved. No more dirty fingers. No more dirty burger. No more dirty mouth. It's that simple.

If you read this, pass the message and slow the germs. Perhaps that will speed this ridiculously slow process. I am just not used to your human ways, my friends. My stick is getting worn through with my incessant pacing.

What Kind of Dog is That?

I decided that a business that educated people about animals through presentations, interaction, and activities was a good idea when we started collecting our critters and taking them out for walks for lead training. We would be walking down the street with a llama and people would come out of houses and stop cars to ask questions. However, the need for animal education became really clear when we took a walk with Obadiah and then, a year later, with Gabriel.

Both were bottle-fed babies. Both, while we were out walking, would stop traffic and people would lean out of windows to ask, "What kind of dog is THAT?!?" I'd reply, "It's a kid" for Obadiah, or "It's a lamb" for Gabriel. The questioner would respond (about Obadiah), "THAT is NOT a kid!" I'd say, "Yep, it's a baby goat." Then they would query, "THAT is a GOAT?!?" And then there would be a lot of questions. While I wouldn't expect people to know the breed of the goat or sheep (I wouldn't have before I got them), it never occurred to me that they would not recognize that they were a goat or a sheep. And, since these were adults, I thought kids probably need animal related experiences, too.

Obadiah, an Oberhasli goat, has grown a lot this last year and Gabriel, a Shetland sheep, won't be mistaken for a dog this year! He has grown into a beautiful ram with lovely, though uneven, horns (he was in a fight with our fence), but he still follows me around like a favorite pooch!

So, contact the GEE Funny Farm to have our odd lot of animals, sometimes mistaken as dogs, as well as the other animals brought to you. You'll be glad that you did!

Introducing Amos the Border Collie

So, Asimov has sort of introduced Amos, our Border Collie. Amos has been at the GEE Funny Farm for just over a year. He was my anniversary gift from David (David gets me the BEST gifts). David even drove up, over our anniversary, to Winnipeg, Canada with me to get him from a rescue there.

Amos has been in two humane societies and one rescue, that I know about. He was in a home for about a year and received a lot of obedience training (which was lucky for me), but was taken back to the humane society because he spins in circles and is hyper. He spins in circles to release energy, especially when he hears cars, or sees something exciting going on, or when he is bored with his environment. Border Collies ARE hyper. That is one reason it is really important to do research BEFORE you get any pet. In each place, he had a different name; I chose Amos from the prophet in the Old Testament of the Bible. He was a shepherd who reluctantly became a prophet through obedience. I wanted Amos to be a obedient shepherd of my flock!

I had decided to try a Border Collie because I wanted to learn to herd my goats, sheep, and llamas. They usually follow me around, but seem to know when the veterinarian is coming or I REALLY need them and won't let me catch them then.

Amos and I went to obedience training together (it helps with bonding) and within the eight week class, he passed his Canine Good Citizen and his Therapy Dog International tests. He is no slouch!! We gave agility a try, but he wasn't very interested and I have trouble remembering the order of things that we are supposed to do (which probably added to his frustration). Then, about 6 months after his arrival, he took the Herding Instinct Test and passed that (the picture is from the Instinct Test). So, late last summer, we started herding lessons.

As Asimov said, the lessons are for me. Actually, I've noticed that most lessons about how to train animals are really for training people, at least in my experience. I've learned how to keep my body energy from blocking Amos (did you know that you have a 'laser' coming from your chest that can stop a herding dog from doing his job), and how to use it properly. I learned that how to use the energy to keep Amos circling the flock and me, or to use the energy to turn him the other way -- I feel SO powerful! We can now collect goats or sheep from far away and pen them (I also had to learn to let Amos herd the animals -- I spent a lot of time getting in the way as I tried to "help.") We have recently been given permission to work at home (Amos is ready, but I'm wimpy in this cold), and that is exciting!! Shannon, our trainer, feels that I finally know enough to not cause problems on my own.

Amos is also a therapy dog. It is interesting because people always say, "He is so calm!" If they only knew. However, he knows, when I brush him and put his scarf on, that he is going to work. He goes among walkers and wheelchairs, balances on his back feet, and crawls to people to be petted. He seems to know who needs him. It is a wonderful contrast to his usual activity (he still runs in circles sometimes).

So, while I love Amos, Border Collies are NOT for everyone. They REALLY need a job to be happy. Shannon has been asked, "Is herding the only thing that your dogs do?" to which she responds, "Herding is the ONLY THING!" So, if you are thinking of adding a pet, of any kind, to your home, please do your research FIRST!! If you don't think it is important, check out petfinders.com to see all of the animals who didn't fit in. It is heartbreaking. Shepherds get BIG, Border Collies (and Australian Cattle dogs) need jobs to work their bodies and their minds, and parrots love to intimidate people. If you know what to expect going in, it will help you and your new pet later.

Welcome to Blogger, Asimov

Rather than sneaking into Kathy's daughter's account or Kathy's account, I decided it was about time I scoped out my own space on this thing called the World Wide Web. Thus, I have made myself an email account (actually, with Kathy's help) and a google account so I can get my own name on my entries. So Kathy made me an official author.

This google account is another example of the funniness of humans. As it turns out, you are not supposed to have such an account unless you are thirteen-years-old. With a hatching date in 1998, I don't quite make the mark at eleven-years-old. So, eliminate the year and, voila!, I am suddenly qualified. (Just think what they would say if they found out I supposedly only have the intelligence of a three-year-old. Another misconception of scientists, obviously!)

In other news, there are events afoot at the Funny Farm involving the energetic and enthusiastic Amos, our resident Border Collie. Yesterday, Kathy took him to herding lessons. Together, they are learning how to herd sheep and goats. I don't get to go watch, but rumor has it that Amos doesn't really need to be taught this as it's all rather natural and instinctive to him. So in reality, Kathy is the one getting trained on all the amazing things that Border Collies can actually do. Amos says she's picking it up pretty quickly, and he's rather proud of her when they go to these lessons. We don't know that Kathy is particularly bright, but she tries hard to do things that are good for us, and that's one reason we love her.

What is this GEE Funny Farm Anyway?

Seeing how I didn't get into enormous trouble for posting previously, I've decided to take up this whole blogging thing as my latest hobby. After all, my cage is protected against my favorite hobby: Houdini escapes. I realize that Houdini escapes are a much more unusual hobby, and blogging is being tried by everybody and their dog, but I would venture to guess that I might just be the first bird to try it. Thus, I still think this is a pretty unique hobby for someone of my class.

As the first order of business, I think I best clarify what the deal is with this GEE Funny Farm. You may have noticed the website link on the side, and you may already have checked it out, but you'll also have noticed then that at the top of the page it says "Coming in 2010 to Waukesha County and surrounding areas." Well, here's the problem. Here's why we haven't already started this business thing in 2009 in Waukesha County and surrounding areas: You humans make everything so ridiculously complicated!! Why can't a human be more like a bird?

First, there was this business of getting a USDA license. That is something required by some people that work for the United States Department of Agriculture-- hence, all those letters-- who wants to say "United States Department of Agriculture" all the time? There's just all these things that they want you to do to make sure your animals and your people are safe. Build high enough fences. A bit of electrical fencing here. A bit of extra space there. A couple shots every year from a veterinarian for all the animals on the property. So some cat (not literally a cat, but speaking colloquially to mean a person) came and checked things out and after some little moderations, this whole USDA license business was taken care of.

And now, there's this thing called insurance. Animal protections I get (after all, I think we ought to be protected), but money stuff I'm not so sure about. What I do know is that not everybody is all that keen on insuring animals, both domestic and exotic. So that means we just have to sit here and wait and wait.

We'd hoped to have this insurance business all done by the time Christmas came so that we could go participate in some live nativities. Okay, I admit it, I'm not invited to those events because, well, as far as anybody can surmise there wasn't any critter even remotely like an Umbrella Cockatoo or even a parrot of any kind in Jerusalem at the time of Christ's birth. (This seems like an oversight in planning on the part of angels or, um, whoever it is that plans things that take place here down on earth, but then nobody asked me.) But some of our crowd were hoping to be part of such events because they have reason to believe that some ancestors of theirs or at least very distant relations of their ancestors may, possibly have been there. Unfortunately, no go, even for them.

In any case, this should be taken care of shortly. It better be taken care of shortly. I'm on the edge of my seat to see you people. (Please, no comments on bird's roosting instead of sitting. Because after all, I'm a bird and I can call it whatever the heck I want.) So keep riding aboard this old blog of ours to keep your eyes on our progress. When we're all good and set, you will be the first to know it. After that, you can be so lucky as to set your blue or brown or grey or black or hazel eyes on yours truly . . . and all the other two- and four-legged creatures who belong to this menagerie of ours.