As I said, all of the first birds that were given to me flew away as rapidly as they could fly once they were free! Needless to say, I was extremely disappointed! When I informed my new friend, Gerry, about what had transpired, he said, "That makes me feel really good"! I must have sounded like a real idiot when I sheepishly asked why did he say that? His response made some sense when he said that it showed that they were indeed "Damned Good Homing Pigeons", and they were aware that my barn was not home. I then asked if they had gone back to his house, since, after all, his loft was their home. He replied that they did not go back to his loft, they were too young and inexperienced to know where home was, and they were flying about looking for HOME.
He reassured me that things would be all right and that he had some more birds that he would let me have.
Thus, I had already gotten off to a rocky start in the world of flying pigeons! If I had had any idea what was to come, I would have cut my losses and quit right then! However, I have always found it imperative to learn things the Hard WAY!! Besides, just look at him, if he could do it, then why couldn't I?
This was the fall of 1998, and I then made preparations for a loft to be constructed inside of the barn. There was already a plywood platform in the middle, so on Gerry's advice, we starting planning for a loft to be built. Just prior to making that decision, I finally got two birds to accept the barn as their HOME! The male was a good-looking blue check with no band, and the female was a blue bar with a white splash on her head. These two birds immediately mated and began nesting in the dirt adjacent to the plywood platform.
As loft construction began, Gerry was the architect, Randy Sutton was the contractor, and I acquired the dubious title of "Banker"! As I said before, I should have cut my losses and QUIT, but I was far too "Hard Headed" to have thrown in the towel so soon!
As construction progressed, my pair of birds hatched out two babies exactly 17 and ½ days after the eggs had been laid. The first pair was hatched on March 16, 1999. I guess it was just a coincidence that that was my 55th birthday. What in the hell had I gotten myself into? I had come to Arkansas to start over after closing my business, and I had all intentions of fishing the White River, Lake Norfork, Bull Shoals, Table Rock Lake, the Spring River, and Reel Foot Lake in Tennessee. So, what was I doing fooling around with pigeons?
On April 2, 1999 tragedy struck! One night just before loft completion, something got into the barn and ate the mother and one of the babies! I was left with an unruly cock, who was very difficult to handle, and a baby that, Joan and I would need to bring into the house so we could finish raising her. She was a Sassy little blue bar with a small white splash on her head. She looked very much like her mother, and it did not take very long for us to get very attached to her. She had so much personality, and it was quite obvious that she Identified with Joan and I as parent figures. We banded her when she was five days old, we named her "Peep" and she was given band No. 22581 to wear on her right leg for as long as she lived. We placed a green spiral band on her left foot so that we could identify her in a crowd.
The loft was completed quite quickly. We used new lumber and a good grade of hardware cloth that would make it difficult for even a mouse to get into. However, one afternoon, prior to the completion of the wire enclosure, I went out to look around. Once inside, I discovered a large Fox Squirrel inside looking for food. To this day, I have no earthly idea why I did not simply let the harmless animal alone! I guess that I am very territorial, and it was invading my space. So, I went after the animal as though it was a mortal enemy of mine! With foot and hand speed that still surprises me, even today, I caught him by the tail. As I tried to get a better hold on him, he did a "chin up" and bit me on the knuckle. I dropped him on the floor, and he took off again. This time I knew that I would have to catch him again and kill him. I am well aware that he was only looking for food, but once he had bitten me, I was obligated to get his head so that it could be examined for rabies. Again, round and round we went, and when all was over, amazingly, I had accomplished one of the more foolish things I had ever attempted. Of course the results came back negative, and I still regret going after the animal in the first place. I love birds, but I also love squirrels, so the whole thing just gave me a sick feeling!
Finally, the three-room loft was completed! I had a breeding room with 6 nesting boxes on one end, a room in the middle for old birds, and a room on the other end for my young birds. The latter two rooms were equipped with a trap and a landing board. There was a door for entrance and exit in the young bird room, and a door for entrance and exit from each of the other two rooms. I bought feeders, water dispensers, heaters, perches, and all the amenities necessary to make the birds feel comfortable. I have long since repressed the price tag and rationalized the entire thing in my mind, which should have been examined along with that of the squirrel's!
Once the loft was complete, Gerry loaned me 5 pairs of prisoners and another hen to replace "Peep's" mother. I then began to breed more of my very own birds.
When the construction was taking place my kids did not appear very interested. The fall and winter of the year before, we had gotten into raising rabbits, and I am very sure that they remembered, all too well, trudging through the snow and ice to keep the rabbits watered and fed! That was on the heels of the spring and summer when we ordered 100 baby chicks to raise. They were the large Cornish Rock variety, which ate incessantly, and grew to enormous proportions in little or no time at all. We picked them up at the post office and began to raise them in the loft of our log cabin. Later that spring we transferred them to the chicken coop, which is adjoined to the south side of the barn. As the weather warmed up and the chicks blossomed, we encountered a crisis. Suddenly we had wall-to-wall chickens, which were about to die from heat exhaustion! I declared a state of emergency, and summoned the children to help Joan and I slaughter the huge chickens. We boiled water in our large shrimp and crawfish pots, and transported hot water from the house to the barn. Our place is quite remote, so I stripped down to my under wear, a tee shirt, a tennis headband, and a pair of white rubber "Shrimp Boots". I was not particularly concerned with fashion. I just wanted to get the job done. The work was rushed as we beheaded the birds, dipped them in scalding water, gutted them, and plucked the feathers. When all was said and done, we had about 85 of the birds in the freezer. We still sometimes eat chicken, but not the "Mail Order Variety!" If the feathers are white, that's fine as long as I don't see them through the shrink-wrapped package in the super market!
Prior to the chicken experience, we got into rabbits. This happened as a result of a wild rabbit dropping off her young in our fruit and garden area. The family all pitched in and caught about a dozen wild rabbits. I must say this was a lot of fun, and we bought an old cage to keep them in. We fed them pellets just as you would tame rabbits, and then we ate them. They were surprisingly tasty, so this is when we decided to buy new cages and start raising tame rabbits.
We purchased 6 pairs of white rabbits, and started another chapter of Arkansas life! By the fall of 1997, their sheer numbers over whelmed us. We had purchased two large cages for the young animals. As they grew Joan and I knocked them in the head, skinned and dressed them, and put them into the freezer. Joan even learned how to tan the hides, however, her interest in that was short lived. As fall approached that year we had two large cages full of young rabbits. I told Joan that surely we would get a day off together prior to their reaching sexual maturity! Well that did not happen, until we had two cages full of pregnant rabbits. They were having miscarriages, and the whole thing was just sickening.
When we finally got the free time to dispose of the problem, it was such an act of disgust that I just dug a large hole and buried every rabbit that we had, breeders and all. We don't each rabbit at our house anymore; wild, tame, fried, or stewed! So if you are traveling in Arkansas and have a craving for Rabbit, I strongly suggest that you do not stop in Violet Hill!
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