The Clark Ranch

Whew, what a week.

Old McDonald may have had a farm, but the Clarks have a ranch. Now complete with livestock, a working dog, and heavy machinery.

Okay, the machinery is just a rental, the dog isn't working in a productive way quite yet, and the livestock are just 6 fluffy little chicks.

But the name stands. There are critters and tools on our little piece of property, so we feel justified: it's the Clark Ranch.

Some back story? Yeah, I think that's in order. I don't even remember when I converted to being pro-backyard chickens. Brendon has wanted some for a long time, and all I could ever think of was a disgusting pen I'd seen in someone's yard once. They were a client, so when she'd invited me into that den of disgusting, squawking stink, I'd felt obliged to do so. Ew.

And then sometime after moving to Austin something changed. Was it the laid-back, semi-hippie atmosphere? Was it the uber health-conscious mentality of the local/organic/famer's market folks of this city? I don't know. Suddenly I HAD to have chickens. We had to have a perfect little coop, our own flock, and I wanted to go out and collect fresh eggs every day.

I think Brendon's desire for a dog was as intense as my desire for chickens became. We acknowledged that perhaps this wouldn't be the best animal combination, but finally decided that we were tired of over-thinking things. If the Circle of Life played out in our back yard, then so be it. We would hope for a dog that was more of an animal herder rather than an animal eater, but beyond that and a little training, what can you do?

So one of Brendon's many trips to the Town Lake Animal Shelter resulted in this little adoption:

He also headed out to Callahan's one day while I was at work and brought home some little cheeping fluffballs.

And then I guess some sort of primal vein had been struck in him, because later in the week he came home with this gigantic trencher.

Isn't this normal for a man? Once he begins to raise livestock and train a dog, surely he feels the need to plow the earth as well.

That wasn't meant to be a euphemism. Stay classy, Clarks.

Thus begins our experience with suburban ranching! I know, all you got to hear about before was silly whining about not buying clothes or perhaps a post or two about trying to run long distances. In a flurry of fur and feathers, the topics are changing!

Now please excuse me, I must tend to the livestock.