Farm Pets

 By Steve A. Maze
     Arab, Alabama
    Most families are pet owners. In fact some people feel as close to their pets as some of their relatives … closer in some cases. The vast majority of family pets include cats, dogs, aquarium fish and hamsters. Some pet owners even raise exotic animals like snakes, tigers, lions and other creatures that you would normally find at a circus.
  Up until the 1970s, Grandpa raised a large variety of “pets” on his farm, including the usual dogs and cats that seemed to multiply almost as quickly as rabbits. The cats were not only pets, but helped keep the rat population down in the corncrib and barn.
  The canines usually consisted of hounds or bird dogs used in hunting. If you are a hunter, you will not be surprised at how attached a person can become to their dogs, especially when they help put meat on the table.
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  When Dad was growing up on the farm he had a little feist dog that would kill snakes. It was okay for the dog to kill the poisonous snakes, but not the non-venomous reptiles that helped in the rat extermination process. In fact, Grandpa kept what he called a “rat snake” in the corncrib for that purpose. 
  Everyday pets also included rabbits and baby chicks, but there was some not-so-ordinary ones as well.  Dad once had a crow for a pet. He spotted it in a nest one day and watched as an adult crow fed its sole fledgling. Dad decided to climb the tree in order to check on the baby crow. When reaching the nest he discovered that the crow had already feathered out. He took the small bird home with him and began caring for it. 
  The crow, named Joe, enjoyed Dad feeding and caring for it and decided to stick around even after it could fly. The bird also developed an attachment to Grandma, following her everywhere she went and sometimes sat perched atop her shoulder as she tended the garden. 
  Crows can become quite a nuisance as they grow older, however, and this one was no exception. It got to where it would pick up anything shiny and hide it in the loft of the barn. Small objects were constantly disappearing. 
  The raven-colored bird also started pecking ripe tomatoes and dried beans out of their hulls when it followed Grandma to the garden. Due to its aggravating nature, the crow mysteriously disappeared one day while Dad was gone to school.
  Humming birds were also plentiful since Grandma always had a large quantity of flowers planted around the house. Dad would sneak up on the birds and trap them by pinching the end of the flower off with the bird inside. He let the birds go after only a few seconds since they could only live a very short period of time in captivity.  Dad made pets out of other farm birds as well. Pigeons flocked around the barn on a regular basis. They weren’t tame, but became regular visitors due to the shelled corn that Dad fed them everyday. The wild guineas did the same. 
  Dad would sometimes trade a tame rabbit for two bantam roosters. He would feed and raise them, but learned to not become too attached to his “banties.” When the roosters became big enough, Grandma would invite them inside for a pan of chicken and dressing, or chicken and dumplings. 
  The same was true for the yard chickens. If a hen quit laying, or a rooster got too old, it was traded to the peddler or served for supper.
  Dad said that milk cows were similar to a pet in that he saw them twice a day. In fact, he didn’t even have to run the Jersey’s up to the barn most of the time. Somehow, they knew the routine and would walk in from the pasture each morning and evening. If the milking schedule were changed, however, Dad or Grandpa would have to run them up. That was always the case on the Fourth of July when milk was needed during the afternoon to make ice cream.
  Dad even had a bull for a pet. He broke the bull and taught him to pull a homemade truck wagon. The bull became mean-natured when his horns started growing and would run everyone out of the pasture. Grandpa solved that problem by selling him.  Grandpa never had any horses on his farm since their hooves were too large to plow with. Their over-sized feet would trample the tender cotton and corn plants in the field. Instead, he used mules to plow and make a crop with. 
  Grandpa would only keep a mule about three years before trading it for an unbroken one, and a little cash. A good mule that could “gee” and “haw” was worth its weight in gold. The cash was very important, but by end of three years Dad had grown somewhat attached to the mules. All was not lost, however, since Grandpa always held on to one of the older mules to train a younger one with.
  In the 1960s, Dad brought home a “pet” that had been caught near grandpa’s farm. One of grandpa’s neighbors had cut down a hollow tree and discovered a squirrel’s nest in it. A young gray squirrel ran out and the neighbor caught it. He gave Dad the tame squirrel and he built a wooden box for it to stay in behind our house.
  We named the squirrel Charlie and it would come whenever we called its name. In fact, it was quite playful. My brother and I had a swing made out of an old tire in the back yard, and the squirrel would jump in our lap and ride with us. Dad called for Charlie one day, but he didn’t scamper out of his box as he usually did. Dad went to check on him discovered Charlie dead in his box. Our entire family was devastated.  In fact, many of my pets disappeared or were killed when struck by cars over the years. Later, I decided that I didn’t want to have any more pets. 
  My wife and daughter, however, decided that they wanted a dog about seven years ago. I put my foot down and told them there was absolutely no way that we were going to get a dog. For those of you who are the only male living in a house with two other females … well, you know how I came out on that deal. I finally relented, but only if the dog stayed outside. I absolutely did not want a house pet. 
  Do you remember the thing that I just said about the male living with two females? Not only does our little Maltese named Nala stay in the house, she sleeps in our bed … and on my pillow! I still don’t know if it was the dog or my wife that growled one night when I rolled over on them. 
  There’s one thing about it, though. After Nala goes to dog heaven in a few years, there will never ever be another pet in our house! But I guess it will be best to hang on to Nala’s dog bowl as well as my pillow. 
  You know, just in case.