Pony with chickens
by Margot Callahan, contributing writer
For most of my life, I didn’t know much about where my food came from, and like most people, I was okay with that. Then, I got my list of chores from the Amish farmer I deliver for.
Chore times: 7a and 4p
*Start irrigation pump for the fields when you arrive. 30 – 45 minutes.
In barn:
Horse: 1 scoop grain and hay – morning/evening.
Dog: fill bowl with dog food – morning/evening.
Pullet chicks: fill feeders and waters – morning.
In field:
Turkeys
Move broiler chicks to fresh grass and fill water – morning.
Feed pigs, 1 bucket feed – morning.
*Stop pump before you leave.
*Animals that do not need anything, only look over them: ponies, goats, sheep, laying hens out by the wagon, turkeys.
When your employer is also a friend and he and his family go on a much deserved and too short vacation and he asks you if you’re able to stop by to help out the neighbor who usually cares for the animals and you say, “Whatever you need” thinking it won’t be much because there’s the neighbor, then he tells you that the neighbor isn’t available and would you be able to come by twice a day and take care of the animals, you feel great responsibility, plus you just like animals and you want them to be stress-free.
Before the family left, Jake took my spouse and I around to every “chore station” and showed us the location of the feed and water. He commented about some of the animals and those that won’t eventually be food, have names.
Ernie the horse
Ernie, the horse. Patch, the dog. Six pigs, “They’re a lot of fun and smart.” Fifty broilers, meat chickens that don’t lay eggs. Eighty pullets, young hens that won’t lay eggs until they’re about six months old.
I divided the duties with my spouse who would take care of moving the broilers, starting the irrigation pump, checking on the turkeys and feeding the pigs. That left me with feeding Ernie and Patch, the pullets, and checking on the ponies, laying hens, goats and sheep.
Jake had organized each station making it as easy as possible for us, even staging piles of hay for Ernie. But now it looked different from when we walked around taking notes, maybe because there was less light and more pressure. My partner was already on the lower part of the farm. I started talking to myself.
“Where is Ernie’s scooped food? There’s Patch’s.” So I took the bundle of straw and put it in Ernie’s trough. He eyed me as if to say, “Get my delicious fruit and molasses grain that Jake showed you. I’ll wait.” So I eyed him back. “And where is it Ernie?”
I fed Patches and the pullets, refilling their water, and began looking again for Ernie’s feed. Aha! Jake had conveniently put the feed outside Ernie’s stall door. I took a scoopful and put it in his trough. Ernie didn’t even consider it, and did he just sigh? I realized that I had given him pig food.
In the meantime, my partner-in-inexperience had finished his side of the bargain. “I can’t remember where the pig feed is,” he said, coming into the barn.
“It’s just outside the door. I thought it was Ernie’s food which I finally found over there.” The resident brown duck knew that stolen treats could be had underneath Ernie’s trough and he was already positioned and quacking away.
“One of the chicks got out of the pen while I was moving it, but I got it back in. Another complained when the wheel went over its foot, but it’s okay.”
“I’m going into Ernie’s stall to scoop out the pig feed and then you can take the whole bucket down to the pigs. If Jake finds out I gave Ernie pig food, oh, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
While I was checking on the other animals, I heard, “Woah! Get back there!” My spouse had put the bucket of feed down and turned around to close the gate and a 200 pound hungry pig had pushed it over. Yep, smart.
Ernie looked up. Did he just roll his eyes?
Next stop was the laying hens who all rushed the fence. All the plastic containers in the fencing were turned on their sides or just empty. Empty of what, I had no idea, so I called Jake. It was 7:30a and the first day of his vacation.
A sleepy hello. “I’m sorry I woke you. The plastic containers are all empty in the hen laying enclosure and they’re really vocal.”
Pause.
“Yeah, they get like that sometimes.”
Pause.
“So there’s nothing that I need to do?”
“No.”
“Oh. Okay. Bye.”
We only had to do this four more times before the real farmer got back to the job. A couple of weeks later, Jake called. “Are you able to come by one day this week and take care of the animals again?” Yeah, maybe he couldn’t find anyone else, but I like to think we did a stellar job and we were the first pick. And that Ernie had not said, “Neigh” to the arrangement.
***
About the author: Margot Callahan called Highland Park home, but now enjoys the beauty of Lancaster County. Writing for many years, she now shares her short stories with others.
