Showing posts with label homesteading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homesteading. Show all posts

Thursday, June 18, 2015

How Eggs Hatch

I have noticed an appalling lack of knowledge in our culture about the hatching of eggs. In movies and online, they typically show the hatching creature bursting from the egg, all at once, with shards flying everywhere. This is my attempt to correct this problem. This pattern should hold true for any hard-shelled animal, so if a dragon, for instance, has a hard shell, it would also hatch in this way. If it had a leathery shell like other reptiles, hatching would look different, but then you wouldn't really have people carrying them around and trading them and all those things you do with dragon eggs.

Incubating a chick egg takes exactly three weeks, which is kind of amazing. Twenty-one days to grow from a microscopic cell to a walking, cheeping ball of cuteness... how come people can't do that? I suppose I should be grateful that nobody is planning on eating my nine-month incubated baby...

So, a few days before hatching, the chick breaks through the inner membrane and receives her first breath of air (I say her, because chicks are all female until proven guilty). You can hear tapping and cheeping, and see the egg rock back and forth. 

A day or so later, the chick has managed to make a small hole in the fat end of the egg. We call this stage pipping: 


After this, the chick takes a well deserved break. She may remain still for several hours. Finally she begins to make the hole larger. She's moving in a circle, chipping away piece at a time. We call this zipping:


After an hour or so, the chick has made a line all the way around the top part of the egg. Now she needs to struggle and thrash, moving around until she can squeeze through the hole she has made and emerge into the light:

She isn't very cute yet. She's a scrawny little thing resembling a dinosaur with proportionally huge legs. She doesn't walk very smoothly either. She stumbles around and tumbles over and looks very awkward. But give her a few hours to dry off, and practice using those legs. Then she'll fluff up and turn into that adorable fluff-ball we all recognize:


So, now you know. No more of this instantaneous bursting nonsense. Right?

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

On Dogs and Dog Breeding


There are a lot of ethical questions about dog breeding. I don’t have many answers, but I wanted to share some of the things that I’ve learned as I’ve tried to understand more about the ethics of keeping and breeding dogs. I’ve gone through my personal history with dogs and some of the research I undertook when I started becoming interested in breeder ethics and genetic implications, so that others who love dogs and are interested in learning might have a few more points to ponder in order to come to their own conclusions about dog ethics and the future of dog breeding.

My Life in Dog Years
Dogs were always part of my life. My earliest memories include Curly, some sort of poodle-like mix who adopted my mother when she most needed a friend. Curly hated children in general and me in particular, and it’s surprising I went on to care for dogs so much.

When I was around seven, our family bought a dachshund to be a family dog and a breeder. Frankie (named because she was shaped like a frankfurter, but on her papers she was known as Francine Von Valentine) soon became part of our family. We made friends with a local dachshund breeder and had a bit of a relationship with her. Soon raising dachshund puppies became a part of my life. At times I loved it, especially when I got to name one of the pups from each litter. At others, usually right after Frankie had eaten one of my hamsters or some other pet that had escaped its cage, I was certain that all dachshunds were spawn of the devil and the most awful, ruthless creatures on earth.

The local breeder (let’s call her Karen) had a large piece of property on the outskirts of town with kennels full of show dogs. When I was older, I would sometimes work a day or two at her place. I would fill water and food bowls, and go into each run with a special pooper-scooper. It wasn’t nearly so bad as it sounds, and I enjoyed playing with each dog when its kennel was clean. I decided which colors and shapes were my favorite, and had secret pet names for my favorites, which I would imagine Karen suddenly becoming generous and giving to me. In middle school, I told my job counselor that I wanted to be a dog breeder when I grew up, sometimes dachshunds, but more often some other breed I was researching at the time.

The year I started high school, I got my first dog, one of Frankie’s pups we had sold that the new owner no longer wanted. She was from Frankie’s last litter, born on Christmas day as all of our visiting relatives looked on. We had given her a Christmas name, perhaps Jingle Bell or Angel, but her new family had called her Gidget. When she came to me, my daydreams had been filled with a puppy, younger than her, but the same color and hair-length, and I gave her the name of that imaginary pup: Dawn. We had babysat a dog with the same name earlier that I had bonded with, and I chose the long name New Day Dawning, assuming that once I got my new special dog it would be like a new beginning to all things bright and beautiful. While not quite as amazing as my daydreams, we did develop a close relationship—one of my high school friends told me that I had told her I preferred my dog to human company. I do not remember saying such a thing, but it doesn’t surprise me. I worked at Karen’s to pay off stud fees so that I could breed Dawn, and earned money for my first digital camera, and extra put away for college.

Leaving for college began my first dogless years.  Dawn remained at home with my family and their other dachshunds. I continued to research different breeds and pined away for a dog of my own. Finally, after I graduated, with husband and new daughter, we moved to a trailer park and were able to get a family dog. I decided that some sort of spaniel would be a good family dog, so we chose a cocker spaniel- basset hound mix named Buster. Things did not go well. I became pregnant not long after, and suddenly I had no more patience for stinking floors, chewed belongings, or leashes yanked out of my hands. We moved, and Dawn, now elderly, came to live with us and was little more than a quiet shadow behind Buster. Then Buster bolted past me one day, and I, a brand-new mom, did not have the strength to chase after him. He came back, but died a few hours later from anti-freeze poisoning. My husband and daughter mourned him, and I felt sad for their sakes. Dawn, who had always been an outside dog with many canine companions, became an only pet, and the transition has been difficult for all of us. We struggle with puddling indoors and yapping whenever we leave her outdoors, but we are working on our relationship and she will remain with us until her natural death or until her aging prevents her from enjoying life as a dog. We hope to try again in the future, which I will explain later on.

Discovering Breeder Ethics
When I went to college I also began spending more time online. I soon found out that other people, especially those who haunt pet forums and who write library books, have very defined ideas on the subject. The only accepted means of getting a dog are from a rescue or from a “reputable breeder”, which is someone who fulfills a huge list of requirements, from winning dog shows to genetic testing to absolutely never making a profit but working tirelessly to “improve the breed”. My family were called “backyard breeders”, the scum of the earth, terrible greedy thugs who made money out of their innocent pets and caused the deaths of hundreds of dogs in animal shelters.

I certainly did not think of my family in that way, but some of their points made sense to me. There is a pet overpopulation, and there are perfectly good pets in the shelters. It seemed to me that the registration should mean something more than an elevated price tag. On the other hand, I still wanted dog breeding to be part of my life, and a part of my children’s lives. I didn’t think it was right either, that the only people influencing the future of dog breeding were supposed to be either the independently wealthy breeders or the hap-hazard ignorant masses whose dogs end up in the shelters, or that the only dogs available were supposed to be the extremely expensive show winners ($800 is considered cheap) or the gamble with a shelter or rescue. In any case, I decided that maybe jumping the hoops and trying to be a reputable AKC breeder was the answer.

AKC Dog Shows
Popular opinion holds that the only purebred dog worth looking at comes from the AKC (other registries such as the CKC and APR, we are told, are simply ways for backyard breeders or worse, puppy mills, to claim that their dogs are worth more money).  The AKC, the American Kennel Club, focuses on conformation shows, where dogs are compared to their breed’s standard of perfection and judged by how close they resemble that perfect dog. Perfection is impossible, and if it ever is reached, the standard will be readjusted so that over time the breed will be “improved”. Conformation shows are not beauty pageants, the AKC folks stress. The dogs are judged on their personalities as well as looks, and the standards were written originally with traits that made them better fit to their purpose. For instance, the shape of a dog’s legs might mean it is a better runner, which makes it better able to hunt or herd sheep. The dog’s color proves that it is a pure dog and has not been outcrossed with some other breed that show different features. Dog shows were originally intended as a way to evaluate breeding stock—only the best dogs, the winners of the shows, are supposed to be bred.

The UKC (United Kennel Club) is something of a gray area. Some consider it another “scumball registry”, while others  find it legitimate. It registers more breeds than the AKC and places more emphasis on working abilities. The AKC sponsors shows besides conformation shows, from herding trials to agility to obedience, but the UKC places much more importance on those competitions. Its conformation events are more low-key (partly because they ban hiring professional handlers to show your dog for you), which make them more enjoyable for newcomers to visit.

I went to several shows, both AKC and UKC, and I checked out books and tried to puzzle out the complicated point systems. I was proud of my new knowledge, and I thought it would be exciting to use it to prove myself and the dog I might get were champions, but there was one big draw back: money. The entry fees are not huge, but they add up. It is not possible to get a championship without winning at least three shows, but that would be ridiculously lucky—ten to twenty wins would be more likely, and even the greatest dogs do not win every show they enter. In the area I lived at the time, there were two shows a year. In order to “finish” a dog, I would need to travel across the country, week after week. Besides travelling costs, you need grooming equipment, crates, leads, travelling equipment for dogs. This path, I found out, is not an option for those who are not independently wealthy, or for those who have priorities besides dogs such as family, friends, work, religion, or other activities.

Farm Collies
While at college I also started researching homesteading and hobby farming. I loved the idea of raising and making most of our own products and becoming truly independent. What could be more satisfying than raising sheep, spinning the wool into yarn, and crocheting it into finished products, I wondered. With my interest in farming, I naturally started to turn toward herding dog breeds. At first this meant the usual AKC breeds, the Belgian shepherds or perhaps an Australian shepherd. Then I stumbled onto a different dog breed, one that was regesterable only with the UKC but not the AKC—the English shepherd. This was the dog that worked on farms in the olden days, the dog that would herd the sheep, guard the fences, kill the vermin, and babysit the children on his days off. This was certainly the dog for my someday farm, I decided.

The English shepherd folks are quite critical of the AKC. You can’t tell a dog’s worth by its appearance, they say. The AKC is just a bunch of judgmental aristocrats. It’s cruel to put a dog through all the stress of a conformation competition in order to judge them on looks alone. My dog would have been disqualified because  the white mark on his neck touches the white mark on his head, and that two inches of white fur might have scared the sheep, a dog owner says sarcastically. I remembered some of the people at the AKC shows I met who snapped at me because I brought a stroller that might distract their dogs, or because I extended my hand toward a dog and might have petted it and mussed his fur. Aristocratic jerks indeed, I agreed.

When I moved to a new state, a search for dog breeders in this area lead me to discover another branch of farm dogs—the Scotch collie. The Scotch collie and English shepherd folks don’t get along very well—the English shepherd people say that the Scotch collies are a recent attempt to recreate a breed that is already extinct, while the collie folks pull out their pedigrees and insist that their founders were truly the original collie dog of Lassie fame. In any case, the Scotch collie people claim to be the true collie, the collie that lived on old farms before people turned away from “regular dogs” and started focusing on show animals. It was while looking at the difference  between these dogs that I began to realize what purebred dogs really are.

The Problem with Purebreds

The AKC, as I’ve stated already, believes in “improvement”. They took the working collie and began to emphasize some of his physical features, such as his long coat and pointed nose. They did this over and over, always improving, until they obtain the modern collie. Some animal experts call this dog a “brainless ice-pick”, a dog with such a long pointed face that it has no room for brains, eyes so small that many are born blind, and a huge coat that takes hours to comb. This is improvement.  Their hunters can’t hunt. Their sheep dogs can’t even see the sheep through the fur on their faces. Many of their smaller dogs, intended to be pets, take more hours to groom than a bride on her wedding day. Some dogs have such strange shapes that they cannot breed unless their handler holds them in place, while others cannot give birth without C-section because of the shape of their heads. This is the “reputable breeding” that our popular culture commends. When diseases started springing up, caused by this improvement, the AKC began genetic testing, filtering out the dogs that carry certain defects and reducing the gene pool even further.

The AKC accelerates these kind of problems by emphasizing extreme physical characteristics, but all purebred registries have inherent problems. If you look at the genetics, over time all populations tend to become more and more uniform. This means that any genetic defects will become more common over time, especially those that can be carried on recessively, so that a healthy individual can have children with these problems. In nature, this is overcome by having such a large population that random changes in genetic information happen as fast or faster than the uniformity, creating a constantly changing, constantly balanced, ultimately healthy population. Purebred registries create difficulties by shrinking the population size, which means that the uniformity (especially when dogs are selected to be more and more alike) will happen faster than changes, and defects become more and more common.

In her fascinating book, Animals in Translation, animal psychology expert Temple Grandin explained,

People probably put much more constructive selection pressures on mutts. A mutt who bites people, or who destroys the house by chewing everything in site, has an excellent chance of being sent to the pound or put to sleep. That means his genes will be removed from the gene pool. Just about the only mixed-breed dogs who get to reproduce are the ones who are well adapted to living with people—and good at getting out of the yard… With purebred dogs the selection pressures are completely different, and a lot of them are negative… This is just a theory, but there’s plenty of evidence on the emotional and behavioral problems of purebred dogs versus mixed breeds to support the hypothesis that the selection pressures on mutts are more constructed. For one thing, mutts are physically healthier…Mutts are also more likely to be emotionally stable…Purebreds were responsible for the large majority of fatal dog bites, not mutts. “Animals in Translation”, Temple Grandin, pp. 82-83

I would like to see more dog breeders who use practical traits more than pedigrees and physical appearances to mold their ideal dogs. Chickens and a few other livestock breeds have an open registry, which means that individuals are registered by their traits alone and not by their pedigrees. As of this writing, Scotch collie breeders have an open registry. Another good group is the American Working Farmcollie Association, which will register dogs based entirely on their herding, hunting, and guarding abilities. Other working associations have other groups.

Solutions

I don’t have all of the answers. A lot of times, finding new information brings more questions than it does solutions. I think I’ve come up with some resolutions for myself, but I cannot claim to have the answers for the entire species, or for the entire culture. My hope is that I can share what I have learned and let others continue their own research and come to their own conclusions.


Monday, March 25, 2013

Population Control

I'm the oldest of a very large family, and I always wanted my own large family as well. I've also always been interested in learning about animals and conservation. As a child I never thought that the two might be considered at odds with each other. I read descriptions of habitat loss and ZooBooks' not-so-subtle hints that we have a human overpopulation problem without taking much notice. In high school my English teacher constantly liked to talk about our population problems and joked about programs to limit the number of children one can have. I felt that was wrong, and I knew my religion encouraged having children, but until college I didn't really have a solid position on the subject.

Lessons From Religion

The first concept I learned came from religion. The Doctrine and Covenants 104:17-18 states:


17 For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare; yea, I prepared all things, and have given unto the children of men to be agents unto themselves.
 18 Therefore, if any man shall take of the abundance which I have made, and impart not his portion, according to the law of my gospel, unto the poor and the needy, he shall, with the wicked, lift up his eyes in hell, being in torment.

It made plenty of sense to me. The Lord created the earth and made sure there were plenty of resources to care for the people he created. The problem lies with people who hog all of the resources instead of allowing others to take care of themselves. It reminds me of the agricultural fields around the city where I live--gleaning was banned because people would hoard all of the food and then open vegetable stands to sell what was intended to help everyone.

Another concept I came upon while in college was the idea that Satan, the enemy of all mankind, was fighting to destroy the place where we live. His goal is to make men miserable and to hinder the work of the Lord, and it makes a lot of sense that one of his targets is to make the earth uninhabitable or at least less beautiful. But I think there's enough information out there on this subject, and our culture seems to be erring from caring too much about the earth instead of the other way around, so I'll move on.


History and Innovation

People have been worried about over population for a long time. In 1968, Paul Ehrlich stated:

“The battle to feed all of humanity is over. In the 1970s the world will undergo famines--hundreds of millions of people will starve to death in spite of any crash programs embarked upon now.”

If you look at the information he had available, you might be tempted to agree with him. In fact, the technology and practices available at the time were not enough to feed the world's growing population.

Obviously, the world did not collapse in massive famine forty years ago. What happened? At the same time Ehrlich was prophesying , a global movement called the Green Revolution was beginning.People made new discoveries and inventions which allowed farming to be much more productive.For example, Norman Borlaug bred new types of wheat. While "corn... as high as an elephant's eye" is poetic, it's not really that helpful: we don't eat corn stalks. Borlaug began breeding wheat that grows the same amount of food on a smaller plant, resulting in less nutrient and space requirements. While some of the effects of this were negative (widespread pesticide use and the crippling of the family farm, for instance), it also allowed us to support a larger population. More people means more innovators, and innovators help us to live better.


Economics

In order for a population to stay static, each woman needs to have two children survive to adulthood (one to replace her and one for her husband). Currently in the United States the birth rate is about 1.93 children per woman. Most developed countries are below, sometimes far below, this rate. The Wall Street Journal recently published an article claiming that America's baby bust will be the greatest threat to our economic standing (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323375204578270053387770718.html). The number of children being born cannot support the number of people retiring from the baby boom of the 50's.


The City Mouse and the Country Mouse

Open a map on your computer, zoomed out so you can see the whole United States-- google maps works well. Close your eyes and point to a spot on the map. Now zoom in on your spot. When I did it, I pointed to a spot just east of the Gulf of California in Mexico. As far as I can tell, it's about forty miles from any human habitation. My second try hit the Halfbreed Lake National Wildlife Refuge in Montana, about thirty miles from Billings. Chances are pretty good that you didn't hit any human habitations either.

National Geographic recently came out with an issue that highlighted the importance of cities. They explained that having people in a more centralized location lessens the effect on the earth overall. It uses less wildlife habitat, and less gas as people don't need to travel as far. My husband visited a place in Korea where the people living in the "country" live in high-rise buildings with their fields stretched out in all directions around them.

Beatrix Potter says in her retelling of The City Mouse and the Country Mouse, "One place suits one person, and another place suits another. As for me, I prefer to live in the country." I completely agree with her. I'd rather be in the country, but within a short drive of a larger city. In fact, when I was younger I suggested that the entire earth should be divided equally among all of the people, and each should manage and take care of the section they'd been given. I'm old enough to know this wouldn't work, but the principle holds true--no matter where we live, we need to care for what we have.

One way of solving problems on a personal level is the principle of homesteading, which is that each person should try to be as self-reliant as possible, especially in providing food and other goods for their family. On a city, this might mean a pot of herbs in the window. On fact, the best garden I've had yet was a tiny plot in front of our rented duplex, barely big enough for three tomatoes and a zucchini plant smashed between the owner's mandatory rose bush. In the country, this might mean goats, chickens, and a large garden (my eventual goal). The principle remains the same no matter where you live.


Effects of Overpopulation Fears

One of the biggest problems of fearing overpopulation is that almost every solution to the "problem" involve violating the rights of others. Some people do decide not to have children in order to keep from "adding to the problem", but others see fit to force their opinions on others. This includes the murdering of unborn children, forced sterilization, one-child policies, and eugenics. Eugenetics means that someone in authority will decide for the rest of the population who is fit and who is not, and remove those who are not from the population. Hitler's extermination methods are a very extreme, well-known example. Abortion clinics targeting minority races and doctors suggesting abortion for "disabled" babies are less-known examples.



Quality and Quantity

My favorite story came from a college friend. She was attending an event in high school and was assigned a roommate with very different views from her own. The roommate explained that she did not want to have children because of overpopulation. Then she paused and said to my friend, "I'm glad you want to have children, though. The world needs more people like you."

Raise the change you want to see in the world. This is what makes the most sense to me. I for one believe that there are a lot of problems in our culture. I can't change everything, but I can teach my children right from wrong. I can teach my children how to live a good life. And they will go out into the world and interact with others. I will do my bit, and they can do theirs, and goodness will spread, little by little, person by person. Lasting change for the better is never successful when crammed down people's throats. It happens on an individual level, one by one, person by person. And that's how I hope to make a difference.




Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Meaning of Food

Once when I was a teenager, my family decided to look after a pregnant goat, to decide if we wanted a goat for ourselves or not. Unfortunately, she died while giving birth, but one of her kids, a cute little boy, survived. We raised him by hand and named him Frost. Unfortunately, male goats are not very useful--they don't give milk, they cost a lot to take care of, and if they aren't fixed they become smelly and aggressive. When our baby grew up, he was sold to a family acquaintance who resold him to a family who had him for dinner. I was devastated.  I even replaced my hamburger patty with french fries in protest (my vegetarian stint lasted a single meal).

In college, my plant physiology professor enjoyed making allusions to people while explaining how plants work. "When you're eating a peanut or a pea, you're eating a tiny baby plant that never had a chance to live," he said. The students chuckled and went home to eat their peanut butter and canned peas without a second thought. While not as dramatic or emotional as butchering an animal, I have felt a quick sense of sadness when harvesting spinach or carrots. We nurtured that plant, and it beat the odds of surviving in our infertile backyard, only to be killed now.

The facts of life are simple: in order for us to live, something must die. Some people try to skate around this by assuming that certain species are more important than others. Most don't even think about it. But the fact remains. We cannot create our own energy--we must take it from something else. This is where the homesteader philosophy comes in--the idea that our culture has lost something vital by separating itself from its food source. If your meat shows up wrapped in plastic, or your dinner shows up in a cardboard box, you forget where it comes from. You don't have to think. You don't have to feel.

If you do think about it, you might find that eating is a very religious thing to do. Doesn't it bring to mind Someone else who sacrificed His life so that we could live? My religious teachers taught that the earth is a school and the Atonement is the subject. They would say that every time you eat a meal, you are being taught about sacrifice.

Whether or not you are religious, when you accept that other living things have died so that you can live, it brings to mind one very important question: what am I doing with my (and their) life? I remember as a teenager thinking about the sacrifices that parents make for their children. I knew that repaying them was impossible, but I was not bothered by this. I thought that the way to repay them is to make that sacrifice myself someday and pass on the gifts I had been given. As we continue eating and continue living, the solution becomes as simple as its cause: If something must die for us to live, let us live in the best way we can. Let us make their sacrifices worth it.

Every once and awhile, people may stop to wonder about the purpose of life and what they are doing with their own. Perhaps we are offered the chance to reflect at every single meal. What are we doing with the life that so many have sacrificed to create?

In addition, we have a holiday to reflect on the previous year and to be grateful for our blessings. Harvest celebrations are an important part of cultures all over the world, but ours has been degraded to a day of gluttony. Thanksgiving is not Turkey day any more than Christmas is x-mas. Thanksgiving is a day to reflect on the lives that have touched ours, including the bounty that nature and nature's God have given us. It is a day to remember our own dependency. It is a day to connect with family and friends, who are after all in the same boat. Repayment for our blessings is impossible. This Thanksgiving, I challenge us to ask ourselves what we are doing with our life, and to determine what we need to do to make our lives worthy of the sacrifices they have been given.