Sometimes our pets or farm animals act so weird that I spend some time Google searching what the symptoms or behaviors could mean.
In doing so I’ve found out plenty of oddball facts and to be honest it’s mostly related to cats.
I only say that because I grew up with dogs as a child and only got feline pets after I graduated high school.
So, there’s been more of a learning curve with them rather than the former. For example, after I found Loki drooling while purring when I pet him, I grew concerned.
In fact, I hadn’t noticed it ever before and found it strange to say the least.
But, after ruling out other symptoms of allergies or a cold, I found out that it means he’s deeply content and relaxed when that happens.
Well, so long as it isn’t accompanied by other issues like sneezing, coughing or a seizure.
By no means does this make me a registered veterinary or pet healthcare professional.
However, I am thankful for the digital age and its ability to share information at my fingertips.
Even if my first instinct was to be worried rather than just regular curiosity.
In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on Loki to make sure it isn’t a sign of something seriously health-related. It’s also weird to say farm animals since we’re down to our last rooster thanks to a variety of factors like stray dogs, hawks and other wild animals.
I’d like to think that the rooster is glad to not have to compete for food and water anymore.
Though now we have to decide if mom wants to deal with the hassle of raising a whole new set of baby chicks to adult hen status.
On one hand, she loves having farm-fresh yard eggs and on the other, the chickens tear up her potted plants and need special feed.
I don’t care too much either way since my only contribution is to help unload feed sacks and make sure the cats don’t treat them like toys.
Then again, I enjoy having eggs at home and not having to pick through the shelves at the grocery store.
More often than not it takes me at least four cartons of eggs until I find a set that isn’t cracked or completely broken in their container.
Don’t get me started on how mom can “taste” the difference between store-bought and yard eggs – I can’t taste anything if they’re seasoned. Or, you know, used properly in a recipe.
Even when I make soft-boiled eggs as part of my ramen bowl I can’t taste any difference.
I guess we’ll have to wait and see if mom adds to the menagerie this spring.
Chickens I can handle, but if she makes good on her threat of getting a goat, I’m going to have to rebel somehow.
After all, her miniature poodle eats enough grass and garbage to take the place of a goat in my book.
