Leaving the Flocks

My family and I love to travel. We enjoy visiting our out-of-state family and road-tripping both to new and familiar destinations.

Perhaps the most difficult challenge of this lifestyle we’ve chosen—surrounding ourselves with an entire menagerie of farm animals—is that it takes some real planning—and gracious friends—to be able to leave home.

Along with my panic attacks this spring came a layer of growing anxiety about leaving our animals.

We had taken on so much and I didn’t want to overburden our friends.

So I set to work, thinking through how I could make everything as easy and efficient for them as possible.

Step One: Transport the lambs

Our friends who bought Cho and Luna would be caring for our bottle-fed lambs.

Thankfully, the lambs were ready to drop to two bottles a day—but that would mean our friends would need to drive out twice daily.

That would also mean:

• our dog would need to be tied up all week
• or, our friends would have to catch him and tie him up each morning and release him each evening
• or, the lambs would need to stay confined all week

None of those options felt ideal.

So instead, we offered to bring the lambs to them. It seemed the simplest solution for everyone.

Step Two: Extra Feeders and Waterers

We already use gravity feeders and waterers, but after running the numbers, I realized something:

If I added more, there was a good chance nothing would need to be refilled while we were gone.

That meant our friends could simply focus on the lambs—and only step in if something went wrong.

So I made a trip to Tractor Supply for five-gallon buckets, lids, and extra feed.

My husband drilled the necessary holes, and soon we had:

• two feeders and three waterers for the “big birds”
• one feeder and one waterer for the “baby birds”

I also added an extra gravity feeder and waterer for the cats—both inside and outside—so no matter where they ended up, they’d be covered. The dog was already set with his own setup.

Step Three: Ask for Help

We had one family caring for the lambs.

I also had a friend already planning to come by daily to check the incubator.

But I still needed someone to walk the property—to check feeders, waterers, and make sure everything was running smoothly.

I don’t like asking for help. I hate feeling like a burden.

But I asked anyway.

Since she would already be there, I asked if she would also walk a simple “circuit”:

• incubator
• feeders and waterers
• greenhouse plants
• egg collection

And she graciously agreed.

Step Four: Prepare.

A week before the trip, I made extra copies of our house key.

A few days before, I walked my friend through the circuit.

The day before, I finally remembered to give her the key.

That evening, my oldest and I transported the lambs to our friends’ house—just fifteen minutes away—with bottles, milk replacer, and a copy of our house key.

Then we filled:

• the dog feeder
• the outdoor cat feeder
• the indoor cat feeder
• the baby bird feeder
• two big bird feeders

And six waterers.

Whew.

Everything was ready.

Every detail covered.

At least…I hoped.

I’m always a little nervous I’ve forgotten something.

Because generally…I have.

Step Five: Leave

The morning of, we packed our last-minute items and hit the road.

We were off—headed to Iowa.

We left early and were making great time.

Everything was going smoothly.

Then came the first phone call.

Uh-oh.

What did I forget?

Turns out, the dog had gotten out through the gate.

No big deal—he does that all the time.

Then came the second call.

The key doesn’t work.

No way, I thought.

Did I make a bad copy?

Surely not.

But there it was—the familiar knot of anxiety.

I had given the original to our other friend, so I asked her to come try her key.

Maybe it was just a faulty copy.

It wasn’t.

It was the wrong key.

I had mixed up our house key and our garage key.

I had made copies of the garage key.

I had given both friends the garage key.

To our unattached garage.

With every window securely latched.

There was no way in.

I had unknowingly sent my friends on a doomed mission.

I searched for a post office in Des Moines, but everything was closing.

Thankfully, I found a UPS store still open.

I had both of my husband’s keys with me—and this time, I wasn’t taking any chances.

I shipped them both home.

I paid what is known as the ADHD tax because I didn’t double-check.

I meant to.

I even considered making copies of both keys, just in case.

But I didn’t. Alas.

Thankfully, everything worked out from there.

The keys were retrieved from the mailbox.

The animals were well cared for.

And we had a wonderful week with family.

Leaving the flocks is never simple—but it’s always worth it.

And it wouldn’t be possible without the gift of generous friends.

Next up: The Family Table