All stories on this page are © of Simon Leaning, Western Australia.

Rocky the Ram

“Black Ram For Sale, Merino hand raised, very tame, to good home only” The advert in the local paper read.

We had a good home, three and half acres, and some more grazing on a neighbours block for our small flock. The ewes would love a Ram about the house. “Sold” I thought, and whizzed around to grab what turned out to be a very nice looking Ram. Into the old XC panel van he went, to his new home as king of the flock.

Playful little fella he was, butting and craving human attention. He loved to wrestle and to get you from behind. But he was small enough to be flipped over by his horns when he got too rough. He was good fun and he was very tame. We were lucky to get him and he was such a good looking ram.

Rams don’t stay small for long on good pasture but they do stay tame. It’s amazing how big those lambs turn out to be. He loved to play with people. What was cute at first had become a pain. Rocky, as he was now called, began to terrorize us. Flipping him on his back was no longer possible as his playful butts were enough to break bones, I’m sure he remembered the times he was flipped over though and he was keen on returning the favour, but he was such a nice looking ram and the ewes really liked him. (read complete story)

Galah

I used to think animal psychologists were a bit of a farce. Human psychologists were bad enough, but animals needing to talk through their problems that was just too far fetched.

That was until we made the move to the country. We had a succession of crazy animals that not only needed help but certainly forced me to reconsider my sanity and the sanity of the move.

Having a pet cocky should have been the least threatening of all the choices of pets. Sure the odd one will take a finger and may even share the occasional profanity with your dear old grandmother, but generally they are pretty harmless. Or so I thought.

Jeriko the Galah came to live with us as a hand me down. He had flown into a friend’s garden and sort of taken up residence. They had him in a very small cockies cage and were keen to let us have him as we had a nice sized Aviary complete with another Galah called Fred. We had named him Fred as we considered it would be an easy name to teach him to say. Fred later turned out to be a female, laying an egg after about four years of ownership and it was far too late to change it to Fredrika. (read complete story)

Emma and Harry

“Emma” Dad said. “I have got something for you”.

“What is it”. I said

“I entered you in a Sheep dog Competition.”

“WICKED” I said . “When is it?”

“Tomorrow”. Dad Said

Then Harry and I better get practising! Come on Harry lets go.

Out into the big paddock we went.

I better practice my casting I thought. That’s the most important part in a sheepdog trial. If your dog doesn’t get around behind the sheep and pick them up nicely then you don’t have a chance to win.

I sat Harry behind me, just like I would in a trial and asked him to look for the sheep. (read complete story)

Turkey

When you first move to the country and decide a small farm is your chosen lifestyle, its amazing how really little you know. But what’s even more amazing is how fast you have to learn.

“Free to good home” is a term often used when livestock is being offered. We were vigilant for adds with “free to good home” in them as it was a great way of stocking our small holding. Perhaps people advertising in this way should be obliged to expand on why it is free and why they want to get rid of it…….

We had been breeding turkeys for a little while in the hope of having free range turkeys for Christmas. Nothing like sitting down to a family Christmas with the knowledge that you had grown the vegies, hatched the turkeys and fattened the duck. Great pride in being able to say that. That is, so long as the kids are willing to eat “Clucky Ducky” and “Gobbly the turkey” but that’s another story.

We had been scouring the classifieds for a gobbler to add some new blood to our turkey clan. In passing, a neighbour said he that had one we could have. He was a beauty. White feathered, large framed, big legs and a proven breeder. I suppose that is when the question should have arose “why are you giving him away”. His kids had a sort of wry smile as we drove away with our new prize turkey. I think they partied late into the night. (read complete story)