that it is time to move on to other territory, a move based on quality
of forage, the seasons, or maybe simply a sudden urge for a change in
scenery. I imagine, over hundreds of years of living in the rather
sparse Alpen meadows, they needed to move on to another feeding area
enmasse on a pretty regular basis, or if the weather was starting to get
crummy. Or perhaps the next valley over had a better view, who knows?
Trouble is, my Haflingers seem to have the desire to "move to other
pastures" even if the grass in their own territory is plentiful and the
view is great. And there doesn't seem to be much in the way of natural
or man-made barrier that will discourage them.
I have a trio of yearlings (the "Three Musketeers") who are particularly
afflicted with wanderlust. There is not a field yet that has held them
when they decide together that it is time to move on. We are a hotwire
and white tape fenced farm--something that has worked fairly well over
the years, as it is inexpensive, easily repaired and best of all, easily
moved if we need to change the fencing arrangement in our pasture
rotation between six different 2 acre pastures. Previous generations of
Haflingers have tested the hotwire and learned not to bother it again.
No problem. But not the Three Musketeers.
They know when the wire is grounding out somewhere, so the current is
low. They know when the weather is so dry that the conduction is poor
through the wire. They know when I've absent mindedly left the fencer
unplugged because I've had someone visit and we wanted to climb
unshocked through the fences to walk from field to field. These three
actually have little conferences out in the field together about
this--I've seen them huddled together, discussing their strategy, and
fifteen minutes later, I'l look out my kitchen window and they are in
another field altogether and the wire and tape is strewn everywhere and
there's not a mark on any of them. Even more mysteriously, often I
can't really tell where they made their escape as they leave no trace--I
think one holds up the top wire with his teeth and the others carefully
step over the bottom wire. I'm convinced they do this just to make me
crazy.
Last night, when I brought them in from a totally different field from
where they had started in the morning, they all smirked at me as they
marched to their stalls as if to say, "guess what you have waiting for
you out there." It was too dark to survey the damage last night but I
got up extra early to check it out this morning before I turned them out
again.
Sure enough, in the back corner of the field they had been put in
yesterday morning, (which has plenty of grass), the tape had been
stretched, but not broken, and the wires popped off their insulators and
dragging on the ground and in a huge tangled mass. I enjoyed 45 minutes
of Pacific Northwest foggy morning putting it all back together. Then I
put them out in the field they had escaped to last night, thinking,
"okay, if you like this field so well, this is where you'll stay".
Tonight, they were back in the first field where they started out
yesterday morning. Just to make me crazy. They are thoroughly enjoying
this sport. I'm ready to buy a grand poobah mega-wattage
fry-their-whiskers fence charger.
But then, I'd be spoiling their fun and their travels. As long as they
stay off the road, out of my flowers, and out of my kitchen, they can
have the run of the place. I too remember being adolescent, long long
ago, and wanting to see the big wide world, no matter what obstacles had
to be overcome or shocks I had to endure to get there. And I got there
after all that trouble and effort and realized that home was really
where I wanted to be after all. Now, prying me away from my little
corner of the world gets more difficult every year. I hope my yearling
trio will eventually decide that staying home is the best thing after all.
Emily from BriarCroft, home of the Three Musketeers