This is the first week of spring.

Ahem.

Last night I arrived home from an animal training conference where I had met two women who each had moved their horse farms from this northern clime to Florida. Sure, they don’t get snow but they do have alligators in their ponds. I’ll take snow.

Scooter is determined to bound through it to get to his favorite potty area.

The goats don’t like snow. They’d much rather spend their day standing in their stall than walking around in this sticky wet stuff. So, to get them moving a little, and to make their lives a tad more interesting, I use the skeletons of Christmas trees as hay mangers. Pip and Caper deign to tippy-toe through the snow to get to it.

The branches make it more difficult to eat quickly. The Goat Boys are up to the challenge.

The year after we built this house, in 2004, I planted hundreds of bulbs in the woodland in the front yard, where there’s leaf cover and high shade – perfect for crocus, daffodils and scilia.  A hole had to be dug for each bulb. It was a lot of work but the vision of soft waves of color under the trees kept me going.

Unfortunately, the chipmunks had visions of dinner. Or maybe it was the squirrels. Each little hole was dug up again. Those critters worked as hard as I did!

Somehow, what the chipmunks left were a few white flowers. Perhaps they’re not as yummy? It’s a more subtle show of spring than I’d imagined, but it still makes me happy.

The chipmunks did miss a few of the blue and purple flowers, but I haven’t seen them yet this year.

I’m flying out to Ohio today for ClickerExpo, an animal training conference. Tomorrow I’ll get to take a behind the scenes look at the Cincinnati Zoo and learn how they train the cheetahs and elephants. Keep an eye on my Instagram page, where I’ll be posting photos! (I’ll also share on FaceBook.) And keep watching that page, because I have a feeling that when I’m back home next week, that one or two of those elusive purple flowers will have emerged and will be in bloom. I’ll try to get a photo before they hide away again.

The Beast and her minions live year-round in the small pond in the backyard. There’s a pump that circulates water. Even in the depths of winter when the surface is frozen, there’s aerated and clean flowing water for the fish. When it gets cold Koi go into a state of suspended animation. They barely move. The Beast is twelve years old. She’s a savvy fish, and knows that when she slows down, she needs to stay safely in the cave under the big rock. A sure sign that spring has arrived is when she moves out of the shadows.

When the water is frigid, koi can’t, and shouldn’t, eat. So, even when the fish reappear, we don’t feed them until we make sure that the pond is the right temperature.

The other day it got above 50º F. It’s still chilly, so we feed a

I’d be hungry, too, if I hadn’t eaten for months!

Phoebe does not miss living with the hens. Not one whit.

She keeps her barn very tidy. She uses the corner litter box. She carefully eats up her rabbit pellets – none drop on the floor. When Phoebe comes in at night (to stay safe from predators we latch her door behind her) she gets something special, like half an apple, or carrot, or piece of raw butternut squash. She expects these things as her due. Try giving her something she doesn’t like, such as a dried apricot, and you will see what an outraged bunny expression is!

Mostly, I think, Phoebe relishes the peace and quiet of her own spacious and clean abode. Rabbits like to nap. Sometimes she sleeps in a nesting box, sometimes in the corner. Sometimes she sleeps in her hay pile.

We won’t be getting chicks this year. Phoebe has claimed this coop as her own.

The words good and bad are defined by those who use them.

The weather hit that sweet spot of almost 60º F. It’s warm in the sun but not too hot. It’s too early for biting insects, but late enough that the ground is soft. We can all agree that this is good.

The daffodils are pushing through the ground. The chickens have old leaves in the tangle of raspberry canes to scratch through. That’s good.

One chicken enjoying the dirt at the edge of the barn is good.

But, a half-dozen turning that slight strip of exposed soil into a wide swath of flying dust? The chickens say, the more the merrier. I call that bad.

The Goat Boys had an outing. Eating weeds and thorny runner vines in the meadow? We all agree that is good.

Scratching itchy heads on the peach tree trunk is good, too.

Eating the decorative cherry bush? That’s bad. At least I say it is.

Lano says that rolling in the dirt is good. His owner has another word for it.

Tonka says that a walk in the woods on such a day is as good as it gets. That I agree with.

Scooter doesn’t think that this weather is perfect. It’s not yet hot enough to sunbathe outside, however, he knows how to make the day very good indeed.