I know many people anxiously awaited the email this week.  No, not the one about Obama’s running mate, the other email  The one about the pheasants.

One of the new projects this year was to raise and release pheasants into the habitat on the ranch.  The first pheasants arrived the week of June 12, and were well on their way to a release date sometime in October.  When they were put out into the fly pen — a 25 x 45 foot enclosed netted pen with top and side netting — 32 of the original 52 were still alive.  Over the next few days, a predator snuck into the confines and ended up killing most of the birds.  Although the hatchery suspects a mink, its just as likley it was a raccoon or a few raccoons.

So in my son Noah’s words, “Take two people”, 52 more chicks were shipped from the hatchery and arrived at the end of July, and this weekend, I moved their brooder into the fly pen, and have done a series of staged releases.  15 were released Sunday, and 15 more today.  Assuming no predators attack tonight, I’ll release the final birds into the fly pen tomorrow, and then they grow for another 10 – 11 weeks before being released to the fields on the ranch.

With any luck, they will be safe under the watchful eyes of Steve, the watch rabbit.

There was a television show about a popular neighborhood bar called “Cheers” and one of the characters was named “Norm.”  And when ever Norm would enter the bar, he would say Hi, everybody”, and the entire bar would yell “Norm!”

Earlier this spring, a very small and skinny rabbit was around he cabin and Noah said “I’m going to name him Steve.”

“Steve”, as it turns out, decided to be a quasi mascot and pet, each morning he would greet me near the car, and many times, would hop down the driveway in front of me before darting into the tall grass.  He’s made a burrow in the barn, and –much to his credit and salvation — has not eaten the garden.  Most days, he can be found near the pheasant fly pen.  One of these days, I’ll update this post to include a photo.

By habit, when I see him, I yell out “Steve” like the folks in the bar in Cheers did for Norm.  This seems to have rubbed on my others, as “Steve” has become the mascot of the ranch.

If he could only defend the phesants against preators, I’d plant him his own garden.