I’ve lived my entire life surrounded by as many animals as I could possibly have ( my parents were very tolerant people). As a child, coming flying in the back door carrying a box turtle, garter snake, or baby opossum wasn’t unheard of… And even now, if it was possible for me to have more Lord knows I would!
We already have the beginnings of a funny farm around here, but I’ll never have enough! As long as I can feed them and they’re well taken care of, they’ll live with me. I wanted to take a minute and introduce the critters around here, as some of them have interesting stories. So without much further ado, here are the critters that call Smivie Farms home.
Scooby was here before I was, Mr. Smivie had him a few years before I moved in. I never in my life thought I’d ever own a pit bull, after growing up with labs. But, I couldn’t ask for a better dog in the world. He’s absolutely amazing and so smart sometimes it’s frightening! He was the runt of the litter, and has a serious skin allergy. We’ve taken him to several vets and eventually were told we could test him for years and still never pinpoint all of his allergies. Because of them, he’s got bald spots all over him. They don’t bother him, his skin is still good and healthy, he doesn’t itch at all, but it sure does make people stop and ask questions!
Right before Christmas 2015 we had to have our 13 year old cat, Steve, put to sleep. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. He was my buddy, and I loved him more than I ever thought possible. I was absolutely heartbroken, and so was Scooby. We were heading into the feed store to pick up our usual haul, when I looked down and this little furball was staring up at me. She’d been dropped off minutes before we walked in the door. About 10 weeks old, already fixed, and wild as hell. She still doesn’t have a real name, we just call her Dun-Dun (as in bad shit happens somewhere in our house, she comes flying down the hallway like a super hero going Dun-Dun-Duuuuun). She hates me. Doesn’t let me come near her. Hides in my kitchen cabinets 99% of the time. And hauls ass whenever I come close to her. But she loves Chuck, and absolutely adores Scooby. So I guess we’ll keep her.
My Petunia. When it’s all said in done, this is my girl. There’s no truer love in the world than this pig has for me. She knows the sound of my car and waits for me at the gate. She’ll ignore every person in the world, but comes running when she hears my voice. It’s that kind of love.
Petunia was a rescue, and one of the best things we could have ever done. I’m on several of the social media yard sale pages (and LOOOVE them). A lady put a post us saying she had a “mini pig” that she needed to get rid of. She was giving her until the end of the day. If someone wouldn’t come get her, they were either going to turn her loose into the Southern Nevada desert or shoot her where she stood. Mr. Smivie saw the ad before I did. He didn’t say a word. Just grabbed the keys and told me to go get in the truck. When we got there she was in a dog crate so small she could bare stand up, let alone turn around. Her hooves were horribly over grown (still are somewhat she doesn’t let me touch them much so it’s an ongoing process), and she was about 60 lbs over weight. The lady started to tell me a little about her. Apparently they’d gotten her from a “mini pig” breeder who claimed she wouldn’t get over 30 lbs, and when she did they put her in a barn stall all alone. She was fed scraps and whatever crap their children would take her (cookies, cake, ice cream, etc) and she said they’d only bought one bag of actual food in the time they’d owned her. They gave me it with her, and it was so molded and rotten we threw it out. The kids picked on her endlessly, she’d snap and bite at me when I tried to touch her. So, we brought her home and put her in my greenhouse. She lived there and dealt with me trying to get close to her until we thought she was ready to go into her own pin. That didn’t last but maybe 2 weeks. Now, she’s my walk-about. She has full run of our property and does whatever she pleases. She’s loved, and she knows it. And that’s all that matters.
My little pigs, Scarlet and Charolette. They were a present from Mr. Smivie shortly after we moved into our property here. He knew I’d grown up with pigs and absolutely loved them. The guy that owns the feed store here breeds them, and I ended up with the last two, out of the last litter born in 2013. They’ve always been together, so we had to keep them together and gladly brought them both home. We were told they’re “Vietnamese Potbelly Pigs” but I’m not so sure. They’re wild as hell, love attention, want nothing more than to be where we are, and will scream for hours just to get their ears scratched. We did have them out loose with Petunia for a while. But that was short lived. The made a hole in our fence and would wander up and down the road whenever the felt like it. That scared me to death, so we had to lock them back in their pin. Hopefully, if everything goes according to plan, they won’t be stuck like that for much longer though!
Chuck-Chuck is a creature unlike any other! When we first saw him, I just HAD to have him. He was different, and unique and I just knew he would fit in here perfectly. I got him with two silkie chicken siblings from our local feed store (after getting a dozen others because you know, you can just never have too many chickens). For the longest time everything with him was great. The bigger birds had already been moved into the coop, so it was just him and the two silkies, but time came to move them out to the coop.
From the morning feeding, until the next morning, the bigger chickens had literally pulled every single feather from his eyeballs to his toes. He was almost completely naked, and shivering and I thought we would lose him. I couldn’t just leave him to die, so we moved him into our laundry room, in a plastic tub with a heat light until he got a little bigger and all his feathers came back in. After attempting to put him back into the coop again, we realized that would probably never happen. Withinin minutes all 16 others were on top of him again. So, this little guy will live out his time with us. he’s scared to death of everything, very untrusting, and makes noises nothing like a rooster. But, he loves it when I talk to him. He’ll talk back to me while I’m folding laundry, and I figure if he’s healthy and happy that’s all that matters. Eventually he’ll get his own tiny coop in the yard, but for now he’s my house chicken.
Lord knows I was never chicken friendly, So why I decided I needed 17 of the damn things is so beyond me I still can’t figure it out. But, I will say, they’re a lot of fun to have around, we make a little bit of money off the eggs we get, and I don’t think I can ever imagine Smivie Farms now without having some hens around!
Yup, there are rats that live in my bedroom. This is Pixie and Dixie… Now, there’s a third, an attempt at live feeding the snake that went horribly wrong. No, it wasn’t because I just couldn’t feed him to her. It was more because she just couldn’t eat him. I figure if the rat can stare a snake square in the eyes, and lick it on the end of the nose and live to tell about it, he deserves to live to see another day.
And lastly, the reason my grandmother will forever refuse to come to my house (well beside the fact we’re 2,300 miles away). Yes, there’s a almost 6 foot snake that lives in my living room. In her defense, Flapjack was here about 6 years before I was (yep, she’s almost 10) so I really don’t get a say in her. However, I figure she doesn’t hurt anything, she doesn’t stink, we only have to feed her like once a week, and she doesn’t make a single sound. She’s actually kind of the perfect pet!
Well, that’s everyone that’s here for now. We have plans to expand and get more “productive” animals in the near future. These are names and faces I’m sure will appear in my posts on a pretty regular nature, and they’re a HUGE part of my life and our day to day here. I figure they deserve their own page and they deserve their own stories to be known.
**Steve the most amazing, angry, and fattest cat a girl could have ever asked for**