The affectionate term for donkeys and mules is long ears. As much as I adore Tonka’s pert, turned-in ears, and especially as much as I love looking straight through them to the trail,

there is something about big fuzzy ears that makes me swoon.

These long ears belong to a animal saved by the Save Your Ass Rescue – perhaps the best-named rescue, ever. If you’re looking for a 2016 calendar, they have one. Get it to support a very good cause.

I’ve been on week-long riding treks through wilderness mountains, me on a sensible horse, the guide on an even more sensible mule. Horses flee when scared. Mules stay put and assess the situation. This is how they got their reputation for being stubborn. They know more than you. It’s good to trust a mule.

Before getting Tonka, I thought about getting a mule. Something like this.

I have the wherewithal to have only one large four-legged animal, and I’m grateful to have found my heart horse in Tonka. But, oh, those ears!

If you have experience with long ears, let me know in the comments.

Owning a horse with white legs has its challenges. Horses don’t care if they’re sparkling white, but we people do take pleasure in the beauty of our animals, so much time is spent keeping them clean. It’s not just aesthetics – grooming has many benefits. Tonka is a black and white paint, with crisp delineation between the markings. And yet, this is how I often find him, with dingy yellow-brown stains on his hind legs.

In his stall, he’s a fairly tidy horse. He doesn’t churn up the manure. But I swear that each night he looks for the biggest pile to use as a cushion for his rear end. In the summer I’m able to wash him off on a daily basis, but in the winter, the water to the outside wash stall is turned off. Yesterday, with the temperature around 60º F, I was able to clean Tonka up. It was too cold to give him a full bath, but I filled a bucket with hot soapy water (there’s actually horse shampoo designed for use on white horses), scrubbed those white legs thoroughly, then rinsed with warm water. Tonka enjoyed the attention, and I like to think that he’s more comfortable without those stains, which are likely itchy.

Lovely!

This, of course, is not the end of the story. Earlier in the day, we’d gone on a 4 1/2 mile walk through the woods. Then he had his partial bath. It was warm. I knew exactly what he’d do next. There’s a special area in the center of his paddock which isn’t too rocky.

He made sure that Maggie was busy at her hay net,

because what he was about to do puts him in a vulnerable position. It’s not easy for a 900 pound animal to ease himself down to take a dirt bath.

But, oh, it felt so good!

When Tonka stood up, he shimmied.

But that didn’t shake off the mud. At least I know that the manure stains under that dirt are gone.

This time of year, rolling in a wallow includes getting decorations in the tail.

Oh well. White legs on a horse is at best an impermanent condition. What matters is that the horse is happy.

I’ve set myself a task to complete by the New Year. Since January 1 of 2000, I’ve been dumping downloading all of my photos onto my computer. For every blog post photograph that you see, I’ve taken another twenty photos that don’t get used. I’ve left them in my files and moved on. A month ago I tried to go back to find an image and it was a daunting task. There were 50,000 pictures stored in Photos! It’s become impossible to go through the files and find a good photograph. It was time to sort, discard, and organize. I’ve been tackling this task bit by bit and I’m down to fifteen thousand images. If I cut that number by half, and then slot them all into albums, my task will be complete.

Some of this winnowing is easy. I’ve got a zillion photos of tomatoes, frogs and compost in various states of decomposing, that can be tossed into the virtual garbage can with nary a second thought. But there are other series of images that slow me down.

Here is Scooter the day that we met. He was only six weeks old, and still in his foster home with his brother, sister and Mom. Scooter is the pup in the back to the left of the basket.

It’s not hard to imagine Scooter that little – although he weighed less than four pounds back then, he looks remarkably similar now. On the other hand, Pip and Caper were tiny, svelte and agile babies. Their breeder sent me this photograph when they were only six weeks old. They both fit in a feed tub. When they arrived here they weighed ten pounds each. They’re up to a hundred now, with prominent bellies and sporting long beards.

This is Lily the first day that I met her. She was six months old. She’d been digging. Her muzzle is now grey, but she still gets it dirty snuffling in the ground.

I tried to find a photo of the Beast as a 3-inch fish, but I don’t think that I snapped one! If I come across one, I’ll post it. It’s good to look back before looking forward to the New Year.

There’s not much to report here. When you have animals, that’s a good thing.

The weather has been mild. Still, it is winter and the pond has a growing sheet of ice.

The fish are in suspended animation, but the grass remains green, and the goats and hens are still able to have outings. The goats are wearing their heavy winter coats. These Nigerian Dwarf goats do seem impervious to weather. In the summer they handle hot temperatures with ease, and in the winter they don’t seem to notice it when the thermometer is in the single digits. It’s this between seasons time that I worry. So far, though, they don’t seem to mind being overdressed for the weather.

The hens have settled into one cohesive and peaceful flock. I don’t see any conflicts or dominance posturing beyond an occasional wing flap when treats are tossed.

Phoebe is ever so happy to have the Little Barn to herself. She has frequent hop-arounds with the goats.

Lily is showing her age. She’s developed a bit of a hearing loss and doesn’t always notice when I come home. For the first time in 12 years, she’s not always there to greet me at the door. But she’s still letting me know when the UPS truck drives by.

And Scooter? He does what he always does.

So, “not much to report” is good news, indeed. Wishing you a “not much to report” end of 2015 and a very Happy New Year!

The weather has been unseasonably warm. The air is damp from rain. You might think I’m happy that winter hasn’t hit yet, but I’m not. I worry about the animals. This is the time of year when respiratory disease decimates backyard flocks. To understand why, it helps to know a bit about bird anatomy. A chicken’s lungs are different from ours. Avian lungs are small and fixed to the rib cage. Air is pushed in and out not with a diaphragm, but with air sacs that act like bellows. (As an aside, this is one reason why fat hens, and those with tumors and ascites, die – their lungs can’t function when crowded and wet.) For an excellent explanation of a chicken’s respiratory system, read this piece put out by eXtension. To see an animation of how birds breathe, watch this. The entire film is fascinating, but start at 6:19 to learn about the avian lungs.

So, why do I think that early winter is a danger zone for your flock’s respiratory health? People tend to slack off on coop cleaning during the winter. It’s not fun when the mornings are frosty, and besides, the stuff doesn’t smell as bad in the cold. So manure gets left in the shavings, gets shred up by the hens’ big feet, and becomes dust that hangs in the air. In the winter, even early on when the days get above freezing, coops are closed up more tightly than the summer. Windows are shut. Ventilation is reduced. There are fewer hours of daylight so the flock stays indoors more, defecating, and breathing in air that’s filled with dust and damp particles. That’s enough to weaken a hen’s respiratory system. Add a few wayward germs and you have a recipe for a full-out disease outbreak in your flock.

I counter this by being hyper-conscientious about manure management. Each morning, when I let the Girls out, I take my fine-tined basket pitchfork and remove the piles from under the roosts. On a day like today, when there’s little wind, I open the barn. The big doors are left open all day.

Fresh air is the first line of defense against respiratory diseases. In the winter, it’s more important than ever.