Fun. Just went outside. It was dark. There was a mouse stuck in one of my cheap, 99p Store sticky traps. Young. About 2 months old. I unstuck it. It wiggled. I looked at it. It panicked. I got stuck to the trap. Stuck to the mouse. My hands got stuck together. I panicked. I couldn't get any of the glue from around its eye. Its legs were stuck together. Mum said "Eurg. *insert pained noise here* Kill it."
I said "Kill it?" She grunted. I said "I need a brick." She gestured vaguely with the dimly lit torch. I found a brick. Hands got stuck to brick. Hands got stuck to trousers. I unstuck, the laid the mouse onto the floor.
"If it runs, let it." Mum said. "Yeah?" I said. "Yeah, if it runs, you let it go. If not, kill it."
"Alright." We watched it struggle for a second, then fall. Good eye up, so it was looking at me.
"Nope. No, kill it." I looked up. "It's just gonna get stuck to the first thing it runs into. Kill it."
I wimpered. "It looks so sad. It's like it knows. Look! It does."
"No it doesn't. It's just scared." Yeah. That made me feel better.
I mushed it with the brick. I picked the brink up. Me and Mum grunted at the icky sight before us. I smushed the brick back down and ground the head. "I don't care if it's already dead, I'm not taking any chances."
I picked up the body. We looked at it. "You know what? I don't like sticky traps."
"No." Mum shook her head.
"They aren't even catching the rats. Mice aren't a problem, the rats are. Mice don't kill our chickens."
I don't like sticky traps. Not. At. All.
Thursday, 20 October 2011
Monday, 17 October 2011
17th October 2011
My sisters birthday tomorrow, she'll be fifteen. Lets see if our beloved 'father' sends her a card saying 'Happy Sixteenth' this year. He sent her a 'Happry Fifteenth' card last year. With the plastic still on. He still expects us to love him, but he doesn't recognise me when I walk past him in the street. Yay. We get £2.50 a week child support. Wow. We can buy a itty bitty happy meal from McDonalds for one of us, and then starve for the rest of the week. Amazing how the CSA helps people. Not.
Anyway, moving on.
I'll fill you in on the stuff that's happened since July.
Our elderly friend Jeans sister had a little Shih Tzu called - surprise surprise - Gizmo. Anyway, Jeans' sister apparently kept him in a crate for the majority of his life, and let her children kick the shit out of it and him. The crate - which we now own - can attest to that, and Gizs' emotional scars also prove that correct. He flinches whenever you look at him, rarely looks at your face, doesn't understand a smile or a frown, absolutely terrified of you if he's in his crate. He used to pee everywhere as well, but he's slowly stopping that. He's stopped attacking us over the food, and now he's learning that we won't just randomly start beating the hell out of him, he's even started to roll over and let us stroke his belly as well.
He was horrified to let us do that before, the amount of matts in his fur, his bollocks was attatched to his arsehole and his ears were so matted that he couldn't clean himself. After I dematted him he spent the next week cleaning himself, poor little sod. He's getting better. We aren't planning to keep him, but I very much doubt we'll find him a home. Mum seems to think she's amazing and can do everything, find him a home, breed the dobies and not have any puppy shit, leave the cat with a uninary blockage and then magically cure him - she didn't. He died on the sofa and my sister chucked him in the bin, then mum came down and was like "Oh, oh now, oh my god, well, why did he die? He was fine earlier" then she blamed us. I know we had no money and couldn't afford the vet, but she has to constantly act as if it's a surprise and keep going on and on about it until she makes one of us upset. Christ. It's like if you fall down and hurt yourself, you're fine, you can ignore it, but you have one person constantly fussing and asking if you're okay and you burst into tears, thus branding yourself a pussy forever.
Anywho... Gonna have boiled gammon for my sisters birthday dinner, but we're having it tonight rather than tommorow because we have Cadets tomorrow and that goes on from 7PM to 9.30PM.
I'll update later. See if our arsehole father turns up.
Anyway, moving on.
I'll fill you in on the stuff that's happened since July.
Our elderly friend Jeans sister had a little Shih Tzu called - surprise surprise - Gizmo. Anyway, Jeans' sister apparently kept him in a crate for the majority of his life, and let her children kick the shit out of it and him. The crate - which we now own - can attest to that, and Gizs' emotional scars also prove that correct. He flinches whenever you look at him, rarely looks at your face, doesn't understand a smile or a frown, absolutely terrified of you if he's in his crate. He used to pee everywhere as well, but he's slowly stopping that. He's stopped attacking us over the food, and now he's learning that we won't just randomly start beating the hell out of him, he's even started to roll over and let us stroke his belly as well.
He was horrified to let us do that before, the amount of matts in his fur, his bollocks was attatched to his arsehole and his ears were so matted that he couldn't clean himself. After I dematted him he spent the next week cleaning himself, poor little sod. He's getting better. We aren't planning to keep him, but I very much doubt we'll find him a home. Mum seems to think she's amazing and can do everything, find him a home, breed the dobies and not have any puppy shit, leave the cat with a uninary blockage and then magically cure him - she didn't. He died on the sofa and my sister chucked him in the bin, then mum came down and was like "Oh, oh now, oh my god, well, why did he die? He was fine earlier" then she blamed us. I know we had no money and couldn't afford the vet, but she has to constantly act as if it's a surprise and keep going on and on about it until she makes one of us upset. Christ. It's like if you fall down and hurt yourself, you're fine, you can ignore it, but you have one person constantly fussing and asking if you're okay and you burst into tears, thus branding yourself a pussy forever.
Anywho... Gonna have boiled gammon for my sisters birthday dinner, but we're having it tonight rather than tommorow because we have Cadets tomorrow and that goes on from 7PM to 9.30PM.
I'll update later. See if our arsehole father turns up.
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
21st June 2011
Alright, nearly fully completed the chicken run we started to build yesterday. Got two sides - it's attatched to the main run and coop, so we only needed two sides, one including a single-panel door - up and built, the door put in and half of the roof attatched. we're going to wire the rest rather than put another wire-covered panel up.
We got half of this run by a couple of people who made it then didn't want it anymore, but we've held onto it for a while, then we used a double-panel with a door for a seperater for the main run and little bits here and there for other runs.
Then later on tonight I'm going to cadets. :) I'll update this post later on.
We got half of this run by a couple of people who made it then didn't want it anymore, but we've held onto it for a while, then we used a double-panel with a door for a seperater for the main run and little bits here and there for other runs.
Then later on tonight I'm going to cadets. :) I'll update this post later on.
Friday, 17 June 2011
20th June 2011
Caught a wild rat in the rat-trap in the garden last night. We'd become overrun with them, but one of our six dogs, a Jack Russell bitch, Tippi, caught four in two nights, and we'd snapped about 16 in the rattraps we'd borrowed from out two-doors-down neighbour, Paul. The one we caught last night was the last one, we think; It was the only rat that had managed to kill any of our chicks - we breed chickens and on the 17th, Friday, it had killed one of our 8 week old mix-breed chicks, and attempted to catch one early Sunday morning, (01.28 am to be precise) but mum was awake and downstairs, so she came in and roused me so I could go down in my pajama's, crawl around on the floor and find the thankfully uninjured chick, and move them so the rat couldn't catch them.
And then yesterday, Sunday, we found out that it was a cockerel. So, it ended up dying anyway, albeit less painfully than a rat's attempt.
We currently have six dogs; Two Dobermann bitches, Tia and Kay, three Jack Russell bitches, Tippi, Tiffany, and Star, and one Jack Russell dog, Toby. We have one cat, Slinky. Three boy rats, Remus, Bracken and Mog (Pronounced Mug, but short for Mogwai). Two dwarf boy rabbits, Pablo and Luna, and a giant girl rabbit, Kiara, Maria or Donkey, depending on which one of us you ask.
We have Vinny, our Light Sussex cockerel, the sweetest cockerel you could find. Spike, our Buff Pekin cockerel, the most vicious thing you'll ever find. We bought him once, then swapped him back, and then a month later, we re-bought him because he was so vicious, no-one had taken him. He had one green eye and one amber. I would like to say that's how we knew it was him, but I'd be lying. We knew it was him because he attacked mum. Through the wire. We have Harry, our White Silkie male- we got him and his hens from our next door neighbour, Steve.
We have two black pekin hens, both with chicks that aren't theirs. Weirdly though, they both have a silkie chick, and two pekin chicks. Same colours as well. X-) We have a buff-cross-red pekin, a very light brown colour but definitely not buff, who hatched our first and currently only Black silkie chick. He's safe, because even if it's a boy we can keep it because he's a different colour from white.
These aren't the only chickens we own, but I'll update as relevant.
Edit: Alright, from about 3.30 pm we - Mum and I - started to make a chicken run, three-ish feet wide and nine-ish feet long, with a wire roof. We only half completed it because it started to rain.
And then yesterday, Sunday, we found out that it was a cockerel. So, it ended up dying anyway, albeit less painfully than a rat's attempt.
We currently have six dogs; Two Dobermann bitches, Tia and Kay, three Jack Russell bitches, Tippi, Tiffany, and Star, and one Jack Russell dog, Toby. We have one cat, Slinky. Three boy rats, Remus, Bracken and Mog (Pronounced Mug, but short for Mogwai). Two dwarf boy rabbits, Pablo and Luna, and a giant girl rabbit, Kiara, Maria or Donkey, depending on which one of us you ask.
We have Vinny, our Light Sussex cockerel, the sweetest cockerel you could find. Spike, our Buff Pekin cockerel, the most vicious thing you'll ever find. We bought him once, then swapped him back, and then a month later, we re-bought him because he was so vicious, no-one had taken him. He had one green eye and one amber. I would like to say that's how we knew it was him, but I'd be lying. We knew it was him because he attacked mum. Through the wire. We have Harry, our White Silkie male- we got him and his hens from our next door neighbour, Steve.
We have two black pekin hens, both with chicks that aren't theirs. Weirdly though, they both have a silkie chick, and two pekin chicks. Same colours as well. X-) We have a buff-cross-red pekin, a very light brown colour but definitely not buff, who hatched our first and currently only Black silkie chick. He's safe, because even if it's a boy we can keep it because he's a different colour from white.
These aren't the only chickens we own, but I'll update as relevant.
Edit: Alright, from about 3.30 pm we - Mum and I - started to make a chicken run, three-ish feet wide and nine-ish feet long, with a wire roof. We only half completed it because it started to rain.
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