As for the chickens, there was a really nice couple who'd bought fertile eggs from me to hatch in their incubator. I called the husband and asked if he'd like to adopt any of my birds to add to his flock. I knew he let his chickens run around free-range like I did, and had several grandchildren who really enjoyed the birds, so it seemed a perfect match. And he took all 30 of the hens that I had left after the long winter plus Odo and Hamburglar, my two roosters.
A good friend from the Spinning Loft took Tyr. He'd been without another sheep for company since his buddy Thorn had passed away early last fall, and sheep, being herd animals, need friends. He had done really well with the llamas, but ideally I wanted him to be around other sheep, and he's now in seventh heaven with a small flock of Romney ewes and lambs, of which I'm told he's particularly fond. (The ewes are probably considerably larger than he is, so the lambs would be more his size.)
Whenever I ask after him he's been spending his days lounging with his harem under the apple trees and winning over all comers with his charming personality, asking for pets and strokes and following everyone around on their chores. Since he was bottle-raised, I'm still not even sure whether he knows he's a sheep--but the more time he spends around others of his kind I'm sure the sooner he'll catch on.
Llamas are also herd animals. I wanted to keep our little five-llama herd together, and was delighted when a neighbor with a llama farm agreed to board them. She's a wonderful woman and fellow animal-lover who's been raising llamas for many years, and our girls and boys fit right in at her place. I spent several hours over there the day of the big move and it was exciting to watch many of her fifty llamas meeting their new friends. Her regular email updates have reassured me that everyone is doing well.
As for life here in the big city, I couldn't be happier being able to walk to the grocery store, the bank, the butcher, the laundrymat, the post office, and the bus stop. Our apartment is spacious and light, and I, like the cats, am settling in quickly. We're on a quiet street lined with linden trees, one of which shades our bedroom windows and through which we enjoy an almost constant breeze. Here's the view from our kitchen at the back of the apartment.
It has the advantage of being green, but with nothing for me to plant, weed, water, mow, shovel, feed, repair, paint, fix, nail, tack, glue, sand, or waterproof. Nothing needs a roof or a fence or winterizing. There's no snow to shovel, no ice to break when someone's water freezes, no hay to throw, no thunderstorms or tornadoes or snowstorms to brave when someone needs fed.
Of course, the view isn't quite as nice as the spacious fields, and I do miss seeing the llamas in the pasture and the chickens scratching and Tyr grazing. But I know they're all in their new pastures back in Michigan and scratching and grazing in their new homes, just as happy as can be.