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CHICKEN STORIES
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Incubators Are A 'Go'!
February 23, 2011
Plugged them in this afternoon to get 'em warmed up and ready for eggs this weekend. They are obediently purring right along, maintaining perfect temperature as always!
Of course, this means they have taken over my kitchen island for the next three weeks, but what the hey. My egg suppliers report that they all shipped their eggs yesterday, so hopefully they should arrive by Saturday. They'll need a day or so to sit and settle out, then they can be placed in the incubators!
Which have adequate warning labels in place.
You really can get anything on ebay! I plan on placing more of these stickers on the coop nest boxes, because as anyone who has ever had to trepidatiously sneak a frightened hand under a broody hen can tell you, this sentiment is no joke.
My faithful Viva La Peep coffee cup, featuring a proud and haughty Yoya from last year's hatch in a iconic pose, is ready!
Created by a fellow Goon, Pokute, on the SA forums. I got my husband and daughter Viva La Peep Tshirts as well. Oh, you want one too, do you? Fine, go here: http://www.printfection.com/vivalapeep
Finally, the basket of eggs from OUR hens, of which some will be added to the incubators. One we are sure came from Rugger (our Salmon Faverolle hen) is labeled on top.
Chickam Is Coming!
February 23, 2011
...and it was time to go egg shopping!
This year we plan on hatching some of our own eggs, mostly from the Giant Cochin girls from last year's Chickam--Yoya (grey) and Sonic (golden laced)--plus eggs from Rugger the Salmon Faverolle, Sora, our White Leghorn and Gloria, our Brinkotter. The Polish girls, Poof and Sugar, came into lay in time so we'll also include them. Since Smokey, the Porcelain Belgian d'Uccle roo has been doing his roosterly duties along with Scott and Phoenix, who knows what we'll get!
I've also gotten eggs online--more Giant Cochins from the same fabulous breeder as last year, light & buff Brahmas and black Americaunas with truly magnificent facial feathering. Sadly, my breeder for Salmon Faverolles, who sent us the eggs that hatched Rugger last year, had her flock wiped out by a coyote so I was unable to get more eggs from her.
If the weather cooperates and quits with this winter's ridiculous howling flooding rains, we'll place the cam out in the coop aimed at the nest boxes during daylight hours (Pacific Standard Time zone here) for a week or two between now and the hatch so we can test the cam and everyone can watch the hens lay eggs (and holler their foolish chicken heads off afterwards). Always entertaining!
I'm going to turn on the incubators today--they need to run for a few days to get properly adjusted so they'll hold the correct temperature, so vital to hatching--! Eggs are already on the way and I plan on starting them on Saturday, Feb. 26 or Sunday the 27th. Three weeks later will be the hatch date, Saturday, March 19th or Sunday the 20th (the Vernal Equinox!). As usual the hatch will be broadcast live, with sound on UStream just like last year. After the hatch the cam will go into the brooder box with the baby chicks for two months and run 24/7, with sound, so everyone can enjoy them growing up until the day comes when they are turned out into the flock with the adults. All the info is here:
More artwork from the kid! Springtime = love in the poultry run...
It's so sweet, isn't it?
But...it's part of a larger picture of chickens enjoying a day at the fair, and this cute couple has their own personal smart ass it seems...
The 'Get a Room!' guy is always around, isn't he?
It's Back!
January 16, 2011
Thanks to my darling hubby and a fellow SA Goon making a HUGE effort on my part, they were successfully in wresting my chicken info site away from the previous crappy provider, it's back!
This was WAY harder than it ever should have been, ridiculously so. And I see that I have to re-FTP up some of it that for some reason is not current, and some of the photo links are broken. To the people who depend on the site, sorry this took so long but you would not BELIEVE the hoops we had to jump through!
OK, THIS Is Just Getting Ridiculous Now...
January 10, 2011
Phoenix, our 1/2 Barred Rock 1/2 Americaunas rooster, takes after his father, Jack (Barred Rock) in many ways. Sweet temperment, same build, etc. He also carries Jack's leanings towards being a weaponized chicken. Here's Jack, with a look at Jack's spurs...those KNIVES he carried on his legs:
Now, Jack was beyond sweet, a very laid-back roo who would never dream of attacking a human with beak, wing or claw. Or spur, thank God. We could just walk up to him and pet him or scoop him up and carry him around at will. Phoenix is just like him. Which is a damned good thing, because yesterday Phoenix finally molted the end of one of his spurs (which I had been grabbing and worrying with my hand every so often over the last month or so, twisting it a wee bit in an effort to loosen it). Roosters are supposed to molt their spurs every so often as needed, and Phoenix had hung on to his WAY too long. I'm sure the hens, come Springtime and the mating season, will appreciate his shedding the stupid thing more than anyone--he had molted the other one back over the summer. So here is Phoenix's latest contribution to my rooster spur collection:
If it was straight it would be 6 1/2 inches long. Truly the definition of 'overkill'. This, by the way, is the cap--Phoenix still has a spur that is about 2 inches long on the shank of his leg.
Aw, my widdow sweetums Roo-Boy of Death...
More Chicken Worries...
January 9, 2011
Argh, my stupid site provider has taken down my chicken info site with no explanation and won't respond to our repeated emails. I KNOW it's all paid up and there are no problems with the site content, so I don't know what the heck is going on--but I suspect the provider is going under. We're working on moving my site to another provider, for now if anyone needs my help with anything chicken just let me know here.
Bloody frustrating though!
Our Head Hen, Bear, who is turning 9 years old this year has been under the weather. I'm not sure what her issue is but I'm treating for for a few likely causes (God, my kingdom for a microscope so I can do fecal smears--!)...but it may simply be her age. Phoenix the Head Roo is fretting for her and staying close by her side. We had her in for a few nights this last week when the temps got really cold overnight and learned after the first night to bring Phoenix in, too. He was SO worried about her the morning after that first night and was overjoyed to see her the next morning, he danced and danced around her for several minutes, chuckling and talking to her. I felt really bad, I didn't realize he'd think the worst the next morning!
We'll have to watch them both closely, I still remember when my first Head Hen, Wild Child, died from old age--my Head Roo, Jack, died about 24 hours later, out of the blue--I'm convinced of a broken heart. Phoenix is Jack's son, and has the same personality. But Bear is looking better the last two days, and the weather is FINALLY cutting us some slack on all the damned rain.
Gaah--! Voodoo!
December 6, 2010
I was taking photos of the chickens the other day. Now, it's a universal truth that chickens, when they see you point a camera at them, immediately present you with a lovely view of their hind ends and/or run away.
I'd just gotten a good shot of Rugger and Yoya lined up...framed nicely, they are actually holding STILL for a change...my finger hovers over the button, aannnd...
Gaahhh--! Dang it, Voodoo! It's like a bad vacation snapshot.
Photobombed by a chicken.
Chickam Update!
December 6, 2010
A little update on this year's Chickam babies!
We ended up with 12 chicks this year: two Salmon Faverolles (one male, one female), 5 Giant Cochins (three grays, two Golden Laced), two Silkies (one cuckoo and one black) and three Belgian d'Uccles (two Porcelain and one Black Mottled).
Unfortunately, we had some losses.
Out of the blue, Megatron, the Salmon Faverolle roo died one day. He had been perfectly healthy and happy, we just found him under a bush one day where he had sat down and died. Another very hard loss was Piggles, the tiny black mottled Belgian d'Uccle hen and Little Mac, the Golden Laced Giant Cochin roo.
Piggles was everyone's darling & favorite, a treat to have around, a charmer and beautiful to look at. Mac was growing into a stunning Giant Cochin, very calm and sweet. They passed after contracting Fowl Cholera, which again suddenly swept through our flock this year. One of the first signs of it is sudden death, and Piggles & Mac were the first victims. We had several other hens catch it, but luckily after last year I recognized it right away (thanks to Piggles & Mac) and successfully treated them. But losing two of the babies within two days of each other was SO hard, and so senseless...
Another loss, not wholly unexpected, was Puni, one of the two crippled gray Giant Cochin boys. Puni had hatched normally but had developed a leg bent 90 degrees to the side after a couple of weeks. Despite me making several splints for him the leg refused to return to normal, and by the time he had reached 3 months old he began having seizures and died several weeks later. We realized that there was nothing we could do for him so we just tried our best to keep him safe, loved and happy for the short time he was with us.
Sometimes that's all you can do.
The rest of the babies have lived on to become happy, rambunctious youngsters who have blended into our flock with relative ease. The two Silkies, Bruce (the Cuckoo) and Barney (the black)...
both proved to be roosters and just last month were rehomed with nice families who fell in love with them and had lovely Silkie hens at home that needed a fella, so we felt good about that.
Guardian, the last chick to hatch and a Giant gray Cochin roo, hatched with a twisted leg.
Again, despite my attempts to splint the leg into proper position it remained turned at the hock with his foot upside-down.
Guardian has surprised us all and grown to be a beautiful, quiet boy who is smart enough to spend his time either in the large run during the day or under cover of a tree or bush. He hops along well enough on one leg and eats, drinks and carries on normally, although he breathes hard from exerting himself. I can't say what his future will be since he is a VERY large breed chicken and may eventually grow to such a size that he cannot get around on one leg--but time will tell, and meanwhile he is spoiled rotten by everyone and loves to spend time as a houserooster from time to time. We'll keep him with us no matter what, since he's a special needs guy. He loves people and is very smart. I am going to take him to my new vet for an exam to see if he thinks that Guardian's leg can be surgically turned and repositioned to function better.
His sister, Yoya has grown into a very elegant gray Giant Cochin lady, possibly a show quality hen!
She has gorgeous feathering and form, and is already about twice the size of Phoenix, our Head Roo. This does not deter his romancing her, naturally...like a tall friend of mine used to say, 'I'm tall but I'm worth the climb!'.
Yoya is friendly enough but a bit cautious about people...she still hasn't quite figured out why they want to pick her up and snuggle her all the time--beautiful, fluffy girl that she is.
Sonic, the Golden Laced Giant Cochin, is smaller than Yoya but just as gorgeous. Like Yoya, she can't fathom why we constantly pick her up for snuggles, but she humors us!
Rugger, the Salmon Faverolle hen, is the class clown & character of the bunch.
She is extremely friendly, curious and VERY vocal--she 'talks' like a Siamese cat and makes all kinds of muttering, yowling noises when she talks to us. She really 'chews' her words! Rugger MUST be in the middle of whatever you are doing.
We worried a bit about Rugger when she was around 3 months old, when I picked her up one day and was shocked to find that she was dangerously skinny. It's natural for flock newcomers to be on the bottom of the pecking order when it comes to food, but knowing this we make a point to make sure that new members get a fair share of any goodies we pass out. I had noticed that Rugger never came when I called to pass out goodies, she'd just ignore us. This was unusual for a chicken to the point of it being an aberration--a severe one. Rugger was also skittish and we noticed she tended to startle easily. This, coupled with her being so skinny, made us check her over thoroughly for anything that might be an illness or parasite--but we found nothing. When Rugger was presented with goodies right in front of her she wolfed them down like any normal chicken, so we were a bit mystified...could her large facial fluffs be impeding her vision enough to do this? She DID have trouble seeing food already on the ground in front of her, but if we dropped it and she saw it go by, she followed it down and gobbled it up.
Then one day we were feeding her some bologna bits in the kitchen and realized that she was STILL ignoring us when we'd call to get her to come over for food, even when we'd call LOUDLY.
Rugger couldn't hear us.
Hitting on this, I experimented by coming up behind her and making a hellacious noise by banging a pot lid with a wooden spoon, something that should have made her jump out of her skin. Absolutely placid, serene...no reaction. Ah. OK, so I have J. hold her while I grab her head and thoroughly inspect her earholes for any obstruction or other problem like mites. Faverolles have huge ear tufts so this was not easy and Rugger did NOT appreciate being manhandled in this way. But it lead to a discovery...
Rugger was deaf. Stone deaf.
Happily, once we realized this we took to training her to watch the other chickens and come running for goodies when she saw them come running for goodies. It also explained the skittishness, she just wasn't hearing us approach. Rugger is now fat, happy and suffers no disadvantage. But it's the first time I've ever had a deaf chicken! We just have to remember that she can't hear us, and not to sneak up on her and scare her.
The last two chicks are our matched pair of Porcelain Belgian d'Uccles.
Smokey, the first to hatch, has grown into a gorgeous, friendly little roo boy, and CM into a petite little demure hen. Both are typical Belgian d'Uccles and LOVE to sit in your lap for as long as you'll let them and be petted, total attention sponges. CM was tiny at hatch and has remained small, and Smokey thinks he is God's gift to the entire flock--but both are sweet and a joy to have around.
We're already looking forward to next year's Chickam, when I think that more Giant Cochins, Salmon Faverolles and Belgian d'Uccles are in the works...and we'll also be adding some Brahmas to the mix!
I am a sucker for good, fat hens and fluffy faces...
Oh Lordy, The Kid Has Been Drawing Again...
November 21, 2010
This one features Bug, one of her favorite hens.
Recently, Bug had to live in the house while healing from a serious wound which needed to be kept clean and dirt-free, so she was kind of a pain.
Yeah 'jump up on things & knock 'em down' was her thing, it got annoying. Bug was like the proverbial bull in a china shop.
Note couch--including people--tied to a chicken, who is blissfully unaware of it and has, once again, jumped up on the damned furniture. The kid & her two friends were playing Halo (note the grunt on the TV screen and her dropped XBox controller), while her father and I have now entered and naturally stampede to the conclusion that someone has taken the couch yet left the television.
Next the kid tries something different, involving handcuffs. Undeterred, Bug still manages to leap onto the furniture, dragging the kid along. She's saying 'I'm in trouble, aren't I?' while I pull a facepalm.
Scream until you have an aneurism, while Bug smirks in a smug manner...
Finally, finally, her friend Bunny shows up to save the day, speaking fluent Chicken!
See? All you had to do was ask nicely!
...aaaannd Bug is, once again, perched on something.
The joke here is, the kid draws one of these little seal-type circles on the back of every book she makes, usually with the little character grinning, waving, and looking happy instead of gazing with frustrated disgust at a chicken.
Hey, NO One is More Surprised Than I!
September 11, 2010
Two of our Giant Cochin chicks ended up with leg leg problems at hatch. Today the 6 month old crippled housechickens are feeling their age. This morning Guardian, a gray Giant Cochin rooster, crowed. And my GOD, was he ever LOUD. He's never even attempted crowing before, so it was more like a single-note yell.
But he's a big birdie and makes a big noise!
He looked a bit surprised at himself, and he immediately got Phoenix, our Head Roo out in the back yard, crowing back as Phoenix wondered who the Hell the big guy in the house was.
The Slobby Cochin Brothers...
August 4, 2010
who are living in the front entryway are like big (I was going to say 'little', but they ain't little no more!) static dust mops. Their feathers collect and hold an amazing amount of the shavings in their box. Add to that their habit of energetic flapping, which helps to distribute shavings and dust to parts of the house that they may have missed.
Then we humans come along and track the stuff everywhere.
So having Puni and Guardian in the house is an ongoing cleaning project. But due to their crippled leg each, they cannot go outside much--we have a special pen for them, but since there is sickness going through the flock and they haven't caught it, we don't want to expose them. So they are inside for now and are bored, bored, bored. We try to entertain them and they can see the TV from where they are, so I guess that helps.
Other than their bad leg each, they have both grown into gorgeous Large Cochin roos, and have big, soft, fluffy, impressive feathering--and at only 5 months old! They are also big sweeties that LOVE attention, cuddling and petting. I believe they are both roos based on their feathering, but neither has ever crowed so far--they hardly make any noises, actually, just some soft clucks here and there, and Guardian lives up to his name by sounding his alarm cackle every so often.
Hopefully by years' end I'll have the money saved up for the surgery each one needs to straighten out and reset their legs--each of which work, but are pointing the wrong direction. My dream is to see them happy and out in the yard someday...
Spring Cleaning, A Bit Late...
August 2, 2010
Spent the last two days cleaning out the pantry, right down to the bare shelves. Now it looks great--scrubbed clean, questionable stuff tossed out, remaining things arranged sensibley. We'll see how long THAT lasts.
Evil has a name, and it's called a three year old bottle of dried lemon peel. That stuff smelled funky. Discovered I'd done the Peanut Butter Trick with paprika and had no less than three little jars of it.
What's the Peanut Butter Trick?
That's where you look in your pantry, intent on building yourself a good ol' PB & J sammich. Oh...well, OK, you're OUT of peanut butter. Strange, you SWEAR you had some. Diligent searching ensues, alas, no peanut butter. OK, on the next trip to the store you grab some.
Time passes. Inevitabley the PB & J craving strikes again.
You go to grab the peanut butter...nothing. Well, DAMN, you say to yourself, did I not just BUY peanut butter not too long ago? You search. No peanut butter.
So, on your next trip to the store...you get the picture.
I once did this to the point where I had THREE jars of opened peanut butter going at once. The stuff just manages to get shoved to the back of the shelf where I don't see it. I swear, the damned stuff has a cloaking device, it actively hides from me.
So, I coined the term 'The Peanut Butter Trick' for when this happens and you end up with multiples of something that you KNOW you already have, but cannot find to save your life. Yesterday it was paprika. I also discovered that the curtains in my pantry window need replacing (my house was built by blind idiots and has the stupidest construction known to modern man)--yes, I have a window in my pantry, it faces west so as to gather as much southern California heat as possible and ruin my food stores.
Also, poor Bug, my daughter's favorite hen, has a NEW problem. After narrowly escaping death, she's finally recovering from her respiratory ills, eating and drinking on her own, gaining weight and continuing her molt. Last night as I was doing the beak count at dusk to make sure they were all in the coop for the night, I gave her a little pet...and found something stuck to the feathers on her back, kinda under the end of her wing. I investigated further and found that it was HER SKIN, dried and peeled back like a corn husk. I got a great view of her muscles underneath. She had a hole in her back the size of a large pack of gum.
So away to the house she was whisked.
Luckily, the wound is spotlessly clean with no blood or pus, just a big chunk of missing hide. I figure it's a slice from Phoenix the rooster's spur on that side from a mating attempt that slipped. So today it's off to the vet for antibiotics no doubt, and to have her sewn up if he can. If he CAN'T, it's going to be up to me to initiate cell migration therapy for her and try to encourage new skin to grow and fill in the area. It will mean slathering the area with antibiotic ointment and keeping it bandaged (not easy with a chicken) and changing the cressing once a day to clean and debride the wound--you DON'T want a scab to form or else new skin will not fill in the area properly. That takes mondo time, and the bird MUST be kept clean and away from dirt the whole time till the hole heals.
Bug is NOT happy with me, she wants to be outside with her buddies and is bored inside the house. Me, I'm not happy at the prospect of vet bills and having to have J. build a little special wire cage for her to sit & heal in--because I'm NOT gonna have a crabby chicken wandering my house for the next month!
Fun Stuff...
July 27, 2010
Found a couple of old advertisements...
Bird cards! Yeah, all kids wanna collect Bird Cards! And that Flycatcher looks SO damned happy. I can just see some little advertising exec, crushed, sitting in his darkened office with his head in his hands, wondering why it didn't work. It seemed so fool-proof.
Then there's this one, from the late 50's:
Just look at that hen gobbling down that Jello. I can safely say I doubt very much if my chickens would EVER touch Jello. And they eat anything.
But Hickety's hep, all you cats.
Bye, Sis...
July 18, 2010
Yeah, we lost our little buff cochin bantam hen, who was the surviving identical twin of the pair we called The Chicken Sisters. While they were both alive we just called them The Chicken Sisters (after one of my daughter's books) since they were freakin' identical and we could NOT tell them apart. They did everything together--ate, slept, foraged during them day--even brooded some baby chicks together! They were never more than about 6 inches apart and did that weird twin 'making the same movements at the same time' thing.
As they got older they naturally tapered off laying eggs. The first twin died of natural causes back in 2006, of old age we thought. We had gotten them as adults back in 2001, I figured they were at LEAST 1-2 years old then, and they were wild little girls, too. Amiable enough, but NOT lap chickens and hard to catch, and bitched a blue streak when you DID catch them. Never mean to their flockmates or us, though.
When the first twin died we expected that Sis, which is what we took to calling the surviving Sister, would miss her, but we weren't sure how much. She obviously mourned and missed her sister, but handled it well enough.
Since then she's kept to herself, and has been the grand old dignified dame of the flock. Then suddenly in 2008 she came into lay again, laying eggs for a few weeks, cavorting shamelessly with the boys and earning herself a trip to the vet for egg binding when she got one stuck. She was too old for that nonsense, and we told her so. We did manage to successfully incubate and hatch two of her eggs, however, and she has one daughter still with us today from 2008.
We've had her in the last couple of days since it's been so ungodly hot, and she was clearly suffering from the heat. We knew she was on her way out--she wasn't sick, just old and worn out, poor sweetie. Last night she went peacefully in her sleep.
We'll miss you, Sis.
Another One Gone...
June 12, 2010
Tonight I took a beak count at dusk and discovered one of our little banty hens missing.
It was Honkey, the daughter of our oldest hen, a buff Cochin bantam who just happened to lay a couple of eggs at the age of 8 years old in 2008. Since I didn't have any chicks from her and REALLY wanted some, I incubated the eggs and successfully hatched two baby chicks--both cute little hens, one named Potato and the other Honkey.
Honkey apparantly sat under the Forsythia bush tonight and peacefully passed away.
I can't find any obvious reason. She was in perfect health, had eaten, was nice and fat, and didn't struggle as she went. I'm inclined to think it was either just one of those things that happen, or the advanced age of her mother might have been a factor.
She was a very sweet little hen, friendly and eager to hang around her humans. We'll miss her a lot.
Here she is as a chick, taking a flying leap at her hatchmate brother as they played in the living room back in 2008.
We lost her sister, Potato, in January due to an accident. This last year has been a really, really bad one for losing chickens.
Notice It Says, 'EXPECTS'...
June 1, 2010
...you don't have a choice, Uncle Sam is bluntly telling you How Things Are These Days, Bucko. Ah, for the days of telling it like it is!
Uncle Sam is right, though, and this ad would look just as natural in any magazine today. Everyone would be MUCH healthier and happier these days if they had a small Victory Garden-type vegetable garden and ran a few hens in their backyard.
Your kids would learn responsibility and respect for living things in animal husbandry, and Hell, add a rooster and you've got a little 'Circle of Life' thing going with baby chicks. The kids would also take an interest and pride in growing their own food, which would increase self-confidence. The chickens eat the garden waste/table scraps, provide bug control and fertilizer for the garden. The garden in turn feeds you and the chickens, and you get exercise, stress relief and family bonding in tilling, planting, weeding and harvesting the garden, not to mention the health benefits of growing your own fruit, vegetables, eggs and maybe even meat, if you go that route. NOTHING is healthier than home grown. Chickens also have individual personalities, provide entertainment and make great pets--something lots of people don't realize.
I'm starting to see more of a grassroots return to backyard gardens/flocks, here's hoping the local cities get a clue and lift stupid ordinances against keeping chickens. Our economy could only benefit from people working to provide a bit of their own table fare.
Latest Weird Nesting Site...
May 23, 2010
Yesterday I pruned back a bunch of rose bushes, leaving the cuttings out overnight for the tortoise and the chickens to forage in.
This morning...
Bear decided to lay an egg in there. Now--I cannot THINK of a more uncomfortable nest than a pile of pure rose branches, with all those thorns! I SWEAR they have nest boxes, lovely proper wooden ones with loads of fresh straw.
Nope. Nothing will do but this nasty pile of thorny branches. Even Phoenix the rooster was looking at her like she was nuts.
Weirdos.
Juliette...
April 25, 2010
...has left us. Peacefully and quietly in J.'s arms this morning. She was very old and we had known that it was going to happen soon, as she was getting slower and weaker. We've had her in the house every night for the last two weeks because we didn't want her to have to push and shove for a roosting spot with the other chickens. She had gotten more and more weak and frail.
Juliette came from a 'Chicken Hell' feed store back in 2002, and she was at least 1-2 years old then--so that would have made her somehwere between 8-10 years old--not bad for a tiny bantam. She was terrified of people and very wild for several years, screaming horribly whenever we had to catch her for anything or would attempt to touch her. Then in the last year she had suddenly mellowed, and had begun hanging out with us, even coming into the house on her own, accepting goodies from our hands and allowing us to pet her and pick her up. She even decided that 'This is GREAT' and would come in and hang out with us as we sat at our computers, sitting in our lap and being petted for long periods of time. It was quite rewarding seeing an abused animal forgive and find peace like that.
I hope we at least gave her a good life and maybe attoned for what she had suffered to make her hate and fear people so. Juliette was the tiniest chicken I'd ever seen and was a special girl.
A lot of our hens are getting quite old, so this year and next I expect we'll have another round of the aging girls passing away.
What Else IS There?
April 16, 2010
The people doing the Spring pictures at school tomorrow have made a fatal mistake: they say that the kids may pose with a 'prop' if they want to. Specifically, 'Bring your own props!'
Oh, dear. Unfortunately for them, they do not make any exclusions.
My Inner Smart Ass is running rampant. Hmmm...what'll it be...bloodstained ax? Voodoo or Satanic-looking paraphenalia? The mind boggles.
Also, they did not rule out 'alive'.
So hey, live chicken it is! Now...which one?
Another One Is Making A Graceful Exit...
April 10, 2010
This time it's Juliette. Here she is in 2002, the day we first got her. She was a bit skinny, but filled out nicely to a glowingly healthy little girl.
Juliette is a VERY tiny, Old English Bantam hen that we rescued back in 2002, along with Houdini (who passed away recently) from a feed store that was a Hell for chickens. We'd stopped by the place in the middle of a week-long, 100 degree heat wave and found ALL of the chickens there with empty food and water dishes at 1PM--and the water dishes were hours old, bone dry. The lone teenage clerk was chatting on the phone, so we grabbed a couple of the bottled waters they were selling at $1.00 a pop and went around with them ourselves, filling up the chickens' water dishes. The poor birds were scrambling to GUZZLE the water out of the bottles before it even hit the dishes, poor things. We came home with Juliette and Houdini that day, and reported the feed store. Both she and Houdini were adults at that time, so Juliette is at least 9 years old, possibly more. Both of them were VERY wild and hated humans, so we had our work cut out for us--over the years, if we had to grab them for some reason, they would struggle and scream like they were dying. Juliette was especially bad.
About a year ago Juliette suddenly decided that she really LIKED us, and would hang out by the house, even allowing me to lean down and pet her! She'd talk and chirp happily the whole time, making no attempt at all to walk away. She would even calmly walk into the house to tool around for a bit and visit. It's like she just suddenly decided that we were OK after all.
When chickens get very old but are healthy, what usually happens is that their internal organs begin to fail. When I opened the coop this morning, Juliette was the last one out, waddling tiredly out to stand next to me at the door. I picked her up and felt the tell-tale abdominal bulge that meant she was retaining fluid, and knew her liver must be failing. The same thing happened to Houdini towards the end of last year, and our vet confirmed it and put her on Lasix to help her pass the fluid and be more comfortable until she went. It worked quite well and Houdini passed quietly on New Year's Eve.
So we brought Juliette in and gave her a dose of Lasix (we were lucky enough to have a few pills on hand) and a bunch of mealworms. She appreciated the bugs but not the icky pill.
We put her back outside with her flock, but J. brought her in this afternoon--she had gone off into a corner of the yard but chirped at him in such a way that sounded like she was scared. So he brought her in to hold her and keep her company, petting her and offering her tidbits that she didn't have to compete for with the other chickens. We're going to keep her in overnight so she doesn't have to compete for a roosting spot or have to jump up onto a roost.
So right now she's dozing in a sunny spot by the back door, and she's got a little chicken buffet thing going with chicken food, water, corn on the cob kernels, mashed strawberry and hard boiled egg yolk. When dusk falls we'll make her a comfy littke chicken bed and place her in the living room so she can watch TV and have company.
We don't know how much longer she'll be with us--heck, it could be anywhere from hours to months. But we'll do our best to make her happy and try to make up for her time in Chicken Hell at the hands of humans.
Last Year...
March 13, 2010
As long as Chickam is going on, thought I'd share some pics of last year's hatch. Moet, our Buff Frizzle Bantam Cochin hen, was mama for that batch of chicks. One evening we were letting her and the chicks run around in the living room, and at bedtime, Moet decided that the couch looked like a much grander place to sleep than the brooder box, so up she hopped and called the kids to her.
The chicks were getting bigger by this age, and she couldn't possibly cover them all with her wings, but darn it, she did her best!
Who were we to argue? She was right. We didn't have the heart to move them after they were sleeping there so soundly, so we left them in chicken-y, ultra-decadent comfort until morning.
It's Here!
March 13, 2010
The flowers, trees and other plants in my yard have decided that Spring is here. They have not consulted with Geraldine the tortoise, who still dreams on in my pantry. I think they're early and being most rash.
The chickens are of the same opinion, and are right properly twitterpated, chasing and cackling and having mad, drama-laden Spring romances. Also the local sparrows have started making what we call Sparrow Balls--a chittering, flying, ANGRY clump of feathers comprised of one female and at least two to four would-be suitors. They have absolutely no regard for humans and will happily fly up your nose or whack you upside the head. A Sparrow Ball can be entertaining though, as the female does her level best to KILL the uppity fellows chasing her.
Indecision, Or Hide & Seek?
March 5, 2010
Hey--! Wait a second, just hold ON there, missy. It's too late to change your mind now!
We see you. Come on out!
Wow!
February 28, 2010
Chickam today had 16,300 viewers for a bit there! Chat was BUSY. Seems everybody loves it though, so it makes us happy to share the chicks. Right now the cam has been transferred to the brooder box.
I've gotten only spotty sleep for the last three days though, so hopefully tonight will be different.
But those chicks are GORGEOUS! I can't believe how nice they are.
We ended up with a total of 12 chicks: 2 Porcelain Belgian d'Uccles, 1 Black Mottled Belgian d'Uccle, 2 Silkies, one a Cuckoo and the other Black, 2 Salmon Faverolles and 5 Giant Cochins--1 Blue, 2 Lemon Blue and 2 Golden Laced.
All are very energetic, healthy and gorgeous birds, except for one, and Lemon Blue Giant Cochin with a twisted leg. It was so bad that her foot was completely upside down. I was able to splint her foot into place, not ideal but better than it was. She's one I had to peel out of her egg as she was stuck, and she's small compared to her sisters.
And KEEP Going!
February 26, 2010
Two more have hatched, a Golden Laced Giant Cochin and a Black Silkie. More eggs are wobbling and rocking as the chicks inside rotate into hatching position.
My broody blue Silkie hen, Blue, I brought in to mother the chicks...she flipped out, hates being in the house and EXTRA HATES being right next to Nadine.
So I brought in Boots, who although she isn't broody, IS a Cochin and Cochins will happily try to hatch rocks. She hung out with the chicks a bit, but her reaction was more in the form of 'favorite aunt' than 'mom'. Hmmm...I'll try Moet next, our part Cochin who was momma last year. If SHE doesn't work out, it'll just be us and the chicks!
GO!
February 25, 2010
Chicks are hatching! One hatched last night, a Porcelain Belgian d'Uccle. Today she was joined by a Black Mottled Belgian d'Uccle and a Lemon Blue Giant Cochin. All are doing well, considering that they are early--the actual hatch should be at noon tomorrow, Friday the 26th. Two other eggs have pipped and should hatch late tonight or early tomorrow.
Right now I'm making the brooder box while J. fixes his computer--it was overheating and needed a new heat sink. So the webcam is down for now, but when it returns you can watch & hear the hatch here:
So far we've only got hatching in the forced air incubator, nothing in the still air one. Time will tell!
"Mom..."
February 24, 2010
"...Bug pecked me on the mouth." (Bug being her favorite chicken)
*sigh*
"Ok, let me see." She offers me her upturned face. I see nothing. "Where did she peck you?" I ask her.
"On my mouth."
"Ok, but where?
In answer, she opens her mouth.
I'm stunned. "IN your mouth?!"
She nods.
*sigh again* "Point to where she got you." I figure it's going to be a tooth, something in the front. I still can't see anything.
She points WAY inside her mouth, up behind her upper teeth, to her hard palate!
There is a *tiny* amount of blood, but nothing major. OK, I tell her, go wash out your mouth really well.
"How did she manage to peck you way up THERE?" I ask as she goes trotting off.
"I dunno!" She tosses back over her shoulder.
Uh-huh. I dunno. "Don't put her head in your mouth again, next time it may be something you'll miss!" I call after her.
"OK!"
Ah, suburban thrills.
Ready, Set...
February 24, 2010
Tonight the eggs in the incubators got their last turn. We've left them numbered side up so people watching on the webcam can pick out & cheer on their favorite egg. We also added water for the last time. Most of the eggs were REALLY stubborn about how I wanted them to sit vs. how THEY wanted to sit--a good sign, the weight shifting inside means a chick. We still have yet to find a brooder box. I'm really going to have to hunt one down tomorrow as I need time to cut the window in the side, place the hardware cloth 'window' in it and otherwise get it ready for cute lil' balls o' fluff.
Unexpectedly, Moxie, one of the chicks from last year's May hatch, has gone broody! I don't know if she would be a wise choice for mama, since she is so young (only 9 months old) and inexperienced, and being at the lower rungs of the pecking order doesn't have much clout with the flock. Blue is still broody, but she is so tiny that there is no way she'd be able to handle more than 6 or so babies, and she is in the lower third of the pecking order. I'd really prefer that one of the bigger and more established hens such as Moet or Boots would take on the mama job.
The caged birds are VERY excited, they know what the incubators mean and that hatch day is almost here! Once chicks start peeping they'll be yelling their heads off to let us know.
Countdown, T-minus 14 Days And Counting!
February 19, 2010
Seven more days to the hatch! Tonight I candled all 61 eggs. I took out 11 clear eggs that showed no development at all. 7 Silkies, 2 d'Uccles, 1 Salmon Favorelle and 1 Cochin. I opened the eggs to check them, only found three that were infertile (all Silkies), the rest were fertile eggs. Several had been badly scrambled, probably by the postal service, so they never had a chance. The clear eggs were pretty much divided evenly between the two incubators, so I don't see anything wrong there. I also noted live babies in each incubator, so they are doing their job!
So we have 50 eggs left, I saw maybe 12 'for sure' live chicks squirming around--they HATE the bright flashlight I used to candle them. I won't candle again since there is only a week to go. Now we have to find a big cardboard box for a brooder box and get it ready!
One of our hens, a little tiny Silkie named Blue, is currently broody and may be recruited as Broody Mama for this batch. Last year it was Moet, she is an excellent momma but isn't broody right now. We'll see!
Gotta get the webcam stuff and get IT running, too! Chickam is looming on the horizon...
THIS Guy...
February 17, 2010
...this little bugger, right here:
Is our personal Sharpshin hawk, it seems. He's been hanging around for more than a year now, and while he MOSTLY does his actual sparrow killing elsewhere, he delights in zooming through the yard when the chickens aren't looking and sending them into a panic. They then get all pissed off and cackle and bark at him for 20 minutes. Even when we go out and try to shoo him away, he'll sit on the power lines right over our heads, favor us with a brief, dismissive glance and then shake out his tail and start preening.
Cheeky little blase bugger! It's a good thing he's so cute and that we love birds of prey...
Chickam Candidates Are Started!
February 5, 2010
Chickam is on the way!
The two incubators are up & running and rule in solitary splendor on my kitchen island...
...with all their assorted temperature probes & hygrometers. Inside they hold a total of 61 eggs, half in each unit. There are 16 Giant Cochin eggs (6 Golden Laced, 5 Blue and 5 Lemon-Blue), 17 Silkie eggs (3 each Cuckoo, Black, Buff, White and Splash, 2 Blue Splash), 15 Belgian d'Uccle (4 Self Blue, 5 Porcelain and 3 each Black Mottled and MilleFleur) and 13 Salmon Favorelle eggs.
We decided to do something a little different this year, and are not hatching any of our own chickens' eggs. Instead, all of the eggs were ordered online and were shipped via the USPS from the eastern U.S., so the hatch rate automatically drops--shipped eggs are vulnerable to possible rough handling by USPS workers. But all of the eggs were securely wrapped and came through beautifully, and look to be of outstanding quality. Several of the breeds are on the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy list of breeds in danger of being lost forever. Salmon Favorelles are listed as 'Critical', and Cochins are on the 'Watch' list. So by buying their eggs and hatching them we are both increasing demand for the breed and creating more of them.
The eggs are numbered in order to keep track online of which one(s) are hatching, and the X on one side and O on the other are registration marks for us, so we can tell which ones we've turned. The eggs need to be turned by hand 3 times a day, every day for 21 days.
There IS one thing...I've never owned Salmon Favorelles before but I've wanted them for a lone time--I'm a sucker for fluffy-faced chickens. However, I'm not sure if this hen is representative of the breed--!
At any rate, hatch day and the Chickam start date is Friday, February 26th!
Help, My Resolve Is Crumbling!
January 24, 2010
Salmon Favorelles. Giant Cochins. Belgian d'Uccles. Silkies. Light Brahmas. All fertile hatching eggs, all for sale on ebay.
These ebayers must be stopped. Sadly, I'm not going to be the one to stop them, it seems.
*sigh*
So Chickam may be starting early this year, around the third week of February if all goes well. Science. Science? Science! That's it, SCIENCE! I'm hatching chicken eggs for SCIENCE!
Yeah, my brain will buy that. It's easily distracted by shiny objects and baby chickens...
Leaving In Style
January 1, 2010
Houdini, our little unknown breed hen who we got from a feed store in August of 2002 as an adult, just left us. We knew she was old, and that tonight was going to be the night.
In typical Houdini style, she left us peacefully in her sleep on the stroke of midnight, surrounded by everyone celebrating and lots of noise and fireworks.
The old lady knew how to make an exit.
Bad Habits & Racial Memory
November 11, 2009
Poof, our White Crested Black Polish hen, has managed to start a fad amongst her sisters.
She likes to perch each evening in the nectarine tree, in a spot where she can see the sun go down, and watch the sunset. Afterwards she jumps down and goes to roost in the coop, where she is SUPPOSED to. Soulful little thing, for a chicken...
Unfortunately, several of the OTHER hens have decided that this looks both keen and fun, and have taken to perching in the same tree, only HIGHER and they don't get down and go in like they are supposed to, little brats.
This results in me shaking nectarine tree branches each night until it rains angry hens and cussing Poof for starting such a dorky fad.
Also, somehow a few of the chickens, some of which were not hatched by us and came along AFTER we moved the coop door clear to the other end of the run, inevitably will go to the OLD coop door and frantically run back and forth, wanting to be let in there. It's like a racial memory and kinda spooky, seeing as how we closed that door more than a year ago and they have NEVER even seen it open. It's made of wood & hardware cloth, just like the rest of the coop so it is not obviously a door, either. And the NEW coop door is a steel mesh security door.
Weird...
Death
July 18, 2009
Fowl Cholera has struck our flock of chickens and devastated them. We've lost 7 hens since March, 5 of whom died in the last 4 weeks--one each week except this week, when we lost two, Bridgette and Loretta. All of the 7 were young, adult hens under the age of three who were perfectly healthy otherwise. Sadly, Bridgette was one of the ex-battery hens that we had adopted, hoping to give her a better life.
Loretta died in my arms about 5 hours ago.
Fowl Cholera is a horrible disease, bacterial in nature, ultra-common, stealthy & swift. While you can treat for it, unfortunately the first symptom is sudden death--so by the time you figure out what the Hell is going on, and which medication to use, you've lost birds. It tends to strike older chickens and certain breeds are more susceptible. Birds go from 'fine' to dead in 3-4 days. I figure it came in this year in the Spring crop of wild birds, which hang around the back yard, or via the rodent population that our area has due to all the backyard fruit trees. Nothing can be done to keep them out, so you need to be vigilant for disease. And the lack of avian vets around here, especially for chickens, means that a proper diagnosis can be difficult.
Our only course of action is to watch the chickens like a hawk, and immediately isolate any that look even REMOTELY ill. We have 13 young hens that should be safe right now, all the rest are at least 5 years old and are at risk. The older they are, the more at risk they are.
Things REALLY suck right now, I'm quite frustrated and depressed. I've spent days combing the Internet and my bird books for anything and everything I can read on Fowl Cholera, but it's not helped much.
Hen Fight Outta Nowhere!
July 7, 2009
The other day Sugar, our Buff Laced Polish hen, suddenly became the target of Baby, our Kraienkoppe hen. Out of the blue, no reason that we could figure. Baby is broody and spends most of her time on the nest, but when she DID come off, she had a mission, it seems--to try and KILL Sugar.
We grabbed Sugar and brought her into the house to recover, but her face was so swollen that her eyes swelled shut and she was effectively blind for an entire day. She looked like a prize fighter, and the poor thing roamed around the house all day bumping into things. We gently sponged away the dirt and goop from around her eyes with a warm, wet cloth, then applied some cold compresses. Today she is improved, one eye is mostly open and she can see out of it, the other is about 1/3 open but the skin around it is still quite swollen. Her targeting is off though, she tends to peck to the left of whatever she's trying to eat.
Hopefully by tomorrow she'll be able to go back outside, at which time I'll have to isolate Baby and break her of her brood so she'll calm down. Doing that isn't easy or fun, she'll have to go into the 'hen pen'--an isolation cage--by herself for days.
Chicken jail, essentially.
Two Things I Never Expected, Both On The Same Day!
July 3, 2009
The first was when Millie, our 6 year old diminutive Belgian d'Uccle MilleFleur hen, who is a great grandmother by the way...started crowing yesterday. This heartily confused Phoenix and Scott, our two roosters, who wondered where the Hell the new guy was, and started crowing back. It confused me, too. I thought for sure that someone had dumped an unwanted rooster over our fence. Why she started this nonsense at her age is a mystery. I think just to mess with the roos.
The other thing was the little fledgling mockingbird baby that was sitting next to my back gate yesterday morning. Not only could it not fly, but it had a broken leg--thanks to the length of thread wrapped around it's leg. It is now safely esconced in a cage in my kitchen...the number of birds in the house right now was at 'LOL' level, then went to 'OMG' and is now officially at 'WTF'. It is eating well and has a blue painters tape splint on it's leg, which hopefully will help it heal at least pointed in the correct direction.
We are trying to settle on a name for this one, for however long we have it. Here it is:
Is that NOT the cutest little fuzzy head ever? I have no idea if it is a male or female, but it adapted to us pretty quickly and eats very well. I figured it is about 1 1/2 to 2 weeks old. We handfeed it every hour during the day up until about 9PM, it gets a mixture of all-purpose baby bird food, human baby food of strained meat, same with a vegetable, plain yogurt and a hard-boiled egg yolk. As soon as it's eating on it's own, it will get something similar but a bit chunkier, plus live mealworms.
Now we just need interesting sounds to teach it!
Ex-Battery Hen Update
June 23, 2009
Sora and Bridgette are doing well out with the flock. The first day was full of much posturing and chest bumping with the established hens, and some downright neck grabbing by the top hens, who felt they needed to REALLY drive their point home. We intervened, gently...pushing them apart and petting and praising them for NOT fighting. This seemed to work for the most part and today all was peaceful.
But poor Sora and Bridgette have NO idea how to roost on perches, and need to be placed there in the evening. They HAVE learned where the coop (and the food) is, so they can get in and out of it with ease. Today was sun and dust bath heaven. No eggs from either one yet, though they have peeked in the nest boxes.
Bridgette is growing new feathers at great speed, and is getting more talkative. Today she saw a cat on the fence and threw a cackling fit that several other hens took up. Sora is much more quiet and laid back, a true California girl. Both girls are very attached to each other and stick together constantly. They have learned that when we appear it means good things like food & pets, so they come running. Sora loves to be picked up and petted, but Bridgette not so much--she'll come running up to us, but due to her prickly state is NOT all that hot on being touched. We expected this, so we'll just give her time to get those new feathers out. She'll be a beauty once she does!
And So My Kid Has A Cause...
June 20, 2009
...and it's to rescue ex-battery hens.
This all happened quite suddenly the other day, when I came across a funny YouTube video to share with her about a rooster. She loves stuff like this, so we looked at a few others as well.
This one, 'A Battery Hen's Hope' is what got to all of us--it's heartbreaking and touching all at the same time, and represents just one bird out of thousands:
After N. saw it, and I had to explain to her the concept of battery cages in egg farms and how and why animals are housed that way, she was OUTRAGED, and rightly so.
Having to explain the worst parts of society and humankind as a whole, is one of the worst and hardest things you will ever have to do as a parent, by the way. Forget about the 'birds & bees' talk, that's a breeze. Watching her faith in humanity 'doing the right thing' die in your childs' eyes as you explain corporate cruelty is heartrending. The fact that this type of 'animals are disposable' thinking is commonplace and accepted by both producer and consumers is even harder.
So OK, the kid now wants to stage a rescue and save ALL of the battery hens on Earth. I explain to her that unfortunately this just isn't possible, but people DO try...then she realizes that she has seen ex-battery hens at the feed store!
C'mon mom, off to the feed store! Never mind that it's 8:30 at night and the feed store is closed.
Well, we have to go to the feed store the next day anyway to get chicken feed, so I agree to look at the ex-battery hens then.
Ha. 'Look'. Right...
So here they are, our two adoptees:
Bridgette, a sweet, curious, talkative Red Star who has suffered the loss of most of her feathers and has been de-beaked:
and Sora, a camera-shy White Leghorn who has been at the feed store long enough to grow some of her feathers back:
Neither of them had ANY idea what table scraps were, but are quite docile and quiet. Bridgette has quite a bit of trouble eating with part of her beak gone, but I'm hoping it'll grow back eventually. Both of them spent last night and today in the house, we're medicating and worming them right away since I'm pretty sure that egg farms don't care a whole lot about keeping individual birds healthy long-term.
Names For Chicks!
June 13, 2009
It's been decided: The large reddish chick is Voodoo, the darker brown one is Moxie, the smaller one with the fluffier cheeks and downward-pointed tail is Bug, and the bantam is Flash.
Flash is pretty darned uppity and may be a roo, while Bug is very calm and sweet, she wants to be held a lot. Voodoo is all Bear, and Moxie fits her name perfectly--very daring!
Maggie Is Dead...
June 12, 2009
...thanks to my vet of 10 years. She had a straightforward oral fungus growth in her mouth, which his office seemingly deliberately undermedicated--we'd run out of the medication in 3 days (normal course of treatment for something like this is 7-14 days), they'd make us come BACK in for another office visit + more medication (both charged for). Rinse, repeat, repeat... Five visits & charges in less than 10 days. The last bottle of medication, he cut her dose by 3/4 and we STILL ran out in 6 days, so she never had a chance. It's all about money, I guess. They've succeeded in draining my bank account AND killing their patient.
Maggie suffered horribly with this crap and died of starvation, despite me handfeeding her night and day. The day she died, I went into their office and sat in the waiting room, being ignored (they hoped I'd give up and go away, I guess) for three hours, Maggie on my lap the entire time. It was bizarre to say the least, as I've always been on good terms with that office. The vet was acting VERY strangely.
Good job, guys.
Enjoy your correspondence from the licensing board.
So Far...
May 24, 2009
Four chicks! I'm actually kinda surprised at this, since I had candled the Polish eggs and they were universally duds. I'm going to have to convince my roos boys that those are GIRLS. Same with the Silkie hens though, poor babies.
So far we have 2 Bear/Phoenix chicks, 1 Skitters or Giblets/Phoenix chick, and 1 blonde Baby(?)/Scott chick. The Bear and Skitters babies show the Americaunas chipmunk stripe markings, and the Skitters baby also has nice feathered feet. Both of the Bear chicks had to be helped from their eggs a bit, a combination of HUGE chick and tough egg membrane--Bear lays VERY strong eggs! Come to think of it, we had to assist Bear during HER hatching, as well, she was so big.
They are all quite cute and fluffy, of course. :)
Also, it is 3:30AM and I am quite, quite, quite tired after midwifing baby chicks all day.
HATCHING HAS BEGUN!
May 22, 2009
Wow, two days early! So far we have one egg pipping and peeping, another is peeping and rocking back and forth. There are 12 eggs in the incubators, links to the cam are here, click and scroll to the bottom of the page for the links:
http://jackshenhouse.com/VSChickLinksCHICKAM.htm
The webcam is giving us some trouble and isn't up yet, but it will be soon!
The Countdown...
May 21, 2009
...is on! I gave the eggs in the incubator their final turn last night, topped off the water, culled the undeveloped eggs and shifted the remaining 12 eggs to one incubator--the one with the forced air fan. All of the eggs are dark green and too dark to candle except two--a light shelled egg and a light brown egg, both with definitely a chick inside.
Meanwhile, the 5 remaining eggs out under the hens are too dark to candle--except one, which looks to have a chick inside but is also horribly cracked. I chose to leave it be under the hens to give it a chance. Two eggs are under Moet, a buff Frizzle Cochin who has raised chicks before and three are under Bear, our Easter Egger Head Hen. Moet got the cracked one since she is smaller, lighter and more gentle than Bear. When hatch day comes, we'll either put all of the eggs under one hen or leave them be with Moet & Bear--but the mama(s) & eggs will be transferred to a brooder box in the house for the hatching. I'm hoping the hen's eggs hatch, as Moet REALLY screeched at me and pecked me HARD (which she never does) when I checked under her tonight. Hopefully that's a good sign that she knows they are viable.
If any of the incubator eggs hatch, they will be added to the mama hen's chicks, since hens can't count. The way to do it safely is to slip them under her at night, while removing the unhatched eggs at the same time.
Hatch day is in two days, on Sunday. By tomorrow afternoon we should be seeing eggs rock and hearing chicks peep if anything is going to happen. When that occurs, the webcam will start!
Oh, For--!
May 17, 2009
So we are now UP to 10 broody hens in the coop, and DOWN to 6 eggs under them. They cracked another egg this morning, I think due to fighting and shoving over who gets to set on them.
I'm thinking from now on of isolating a hen or two with all of the eggs, and letting them set in peace. I'm doubting that any of the current eggs under the hens will hatch due to all of this. We'll see.
I See Baby Chicks Starting!
May 13, 2009
Some of the eggs are clear--the Polish ones--but others have embryos starting, hurrah! And in BOTH incubators! Can the real culprit be as simple as 'too many eggs in the incubators'? And if it really DOES end up being a '12-20 at the MOST' deal for the incubators, why does Miller Manufacturing say you can place 46 eggs per incubator? The humidity & temps feel MUCH better, too.
Hmmm.... Now if we can only keep the eggs going and get them to hatch--!
As for the broody hens outside...we now have EIGHT hens that have gone broody, including Bear, our Head Hen. I think they've realized that we are leaving eggs for them to hatch and they're all trying to horn in on the action. Bear has succeeded in taking over one nest with three of the eggs, while four other hens are setting two to a nest and have the remaining 4 eggs split up between them. At least the paired off ladies are being nice enough to share an egg apiece. I do think that when hatch time comes, we'll either choose one hen (likely Bear) for mama and give her all of the eggs, or just go with two of the ones who have paired up. I hate to deprive the others of their eggs, but they have already broken three of the initial eggs we set under them by fighting over them, and I don't want to shift things around again just yet and have it start up again.
Two weeks to go!
Once More Into The Breach!
May 3, 2009
Into the incubators, actually. AND hens! Since we've got about 6 of the girls who have gone broody (the coop is a Terror Zone for the other chickens, who dash in, lay their eggs and LEAVE), I've set 5 eggs each under Moet, who has raised chicks before and is an excellent mama and Zevon/Splash--two sisters who are brooding together and get along well. Splash and Zevon have peacefully divided up their 5 eggs--Splash has three, Zevon has 2. Moet is a Frizzle buff Cochin, Zevon is a Frizzle Cochin mix and Splash is a nice large, plump bantam of mixed heritage. These eggs will be my test--if the hens can't hatch them either, I'll know it's not my incubators or me who is at fault. I know a lot of our girls are older, so it could be affecting the hatch--but then we've got a lot of young girls, too. It's a mystery...
In the two incubators, we've drastically cut the number of eggs and will have only 20 eggs in each one. Each set of eggs is numbered 1-20 and marked with an X on one side and an O on the other, in order to track which ones have been turned. They'll get turned at least three times a day. The new incubator has been upgraded with a forced-air fan to better circulate the air around the eggs, the old incubator has a new thermostat. I'm also going with leaving all the red ventilation plugs in on both incubators in hopes of raising the humidity, which has been a real bear to get and keep to where it is supposed to be.
We'll start the eggs at 6PM tonight, which should give us a hatch date of 5-23-09--the day before Memorial Day!
Yup...
April 24, 2009
I think we've been skunked by both incubators. :( This morning at 9:30 was the official hatch time, but so far no movement or peeping out of ANY of the eggs in either incubator.
We'll leave the eggs in for three days beyond the hatch, just in case, but I doubt if any are going to hatch at this rate.
This is SO disappointing. I've now been turning eggs for the last 6 weeks, three times a day and I don't mind saying I'm sick of it. But we'll try again...once I've talked to Miller Manufacturing, the makers of the incubators, and installed both the forced air fan and electronic thermostat.
I'm also considering giving some of those broody girls out back some eggs to hatch, as a test.
Sigh...
April 17, 2009
I just candled about 1/3 of the eggs in each of the incubators--they are at about 15 days. Some were clear, others showed developed but possibly dead embryos, others had mysterious dark masses that may/may not be chicks, while still others were too darned dark-shelled to see through!
And just because Mother Nature does LOVE her little jokes on me, I now have SIX broody banty hens out in the coop, all dying to hatch eggs and obviously MUCH better at it than me.
Bleah, I've been hand-turning eggs for nearly 6 weeks now non-stop. SOMETHING BETTER HATCH.
Once More, With Feeling!
April 14, 2009
Or, just the correct temperature and humidity.
The incubators are once again full of eggs. I started them yesterday morning at 9AM, so they are due to hatch on Friday, April 24th.
I think I've solved the temperature and humidity issue, by dint of a two hour scouring of the Internet. I finally found someone who was having the same problem I was back in 2004, they had posted on some obscure forum and gotten a response--someone suggested leaving in BOTH of the red ventilation plugs throughout the incubation period, only removing one of them the last three days of the hatch if needed. I had foolishly been following the manufacturer's advice and removing one of the plugs at the beginning!
This time, I experimented by running the incubators for three days before I inserted the eggs. I left both plugs in and tested those suckers for 36 hours--absolutely, dead on, STABLE! Not even a hint of a flutter in that time, night or day! Yay, success!
So now the eggs are on their way, 31 in each of the two incubators. They are sitting, side by side, on my kitchen island. The new incubator:
And the old one:
Included inside are 13 Serama eggs, tiny little things about the size of a quarter. The chicks are the size of a 9 volt battery, the adults the size of a can of Coke. :) A very kind friend on a farming forum, who breeds Seramas sent them to me via mail. Chickam will be up and running as soon as we see eggs rocking or hear chicks peeping inside the eggs. They'd better hatch, as my daughter is using them for her Science Fair project--!
Failure...
March 25, 2009
So the hatch was a 100% failure, boo. :( We are going to try again, after conferring with other chicken people. The incubator will be outfitted with a new electronic thermostat and a forced-air fan unit, and relocated back in the kitchen. I find it hard to believe that moving the thing about 8 feet would make such a total difference, but...well...we DID get some chicks hatch last year when we did that!
The thermostat on the incubator proved VERY unreliable this time around, fluctuating wildly between 102 and 98 degrees...with the optimum temp of 99.5 degrees being very hard to maintain. Even with checking it often, we can't be sure if hours passed during the day when we were gone, or night while we were sleeping with the temp at a chick-killing too high or too low.
At any rate, the eggs will remain in the incubator until Thursday the 26th, in order to catch any late bloomers. If none hatch, we'll try again. J. says he wants to take the old incubator and try to install a better, more reliable thermostat in it so we'll try with that one.
Still time to hatch chicks for the kids' Science Fair project, so all is good, still.
Annnnnd They're Off!
March 2, 2009
Twenty-one days and counting till Chickam2009!
Here are this years' 50 contenders for 'Who Will Hatch First?'!
The blue thing is a Water Weasel, which holds the probe for the digital thermometer--it acts as an artificial egg and is a way for us to gauge the temp INSIDE the eggs, which makes for a much more accurate reading. The thing with the digital readout on the right is a hygrometer, which measures humidity--it has to be at a certain levels at various times during the hatch. It has a thermometer, too, but it isn't as accurate as the digital one with the probe. The eggs are numbered so that you can cheer on your favorite!
The eggs are due to hatch on March 23rd, but Chickam will start the day before, on March 22nd in order to catch any early hatches. You can see and hear it live soon here--two spots in case one or the other goes down:
No chat, kid-safe:
http://www.stickam.com/chickam2008/
With moderated chat but we advise adult supervision since we can't control what other people say, but we will be answering questions here:
http://www.justin.tv/chickam2008/
How do hens manage this without all these gadgets?!
Hi Tech Meets Old School!
February 24, 2009
It's Nest Boxes 2.0!
Old style wooden boxes on the bottom, recycled computer monitor cases on top.
Seems the hens approve!
Chickam Is Coming!
February 22, 2009
Run for your lives! Ha...
The chickens are getting right properly twitterpated and are in high barnyard dramaqueen overdrive, running around this way and that, having little chicken-y romances. It's cute. :)
So this week we'll start up Chickam (with sound!) again, beginning with the cam pointed at the nest boxes, so ya might catch eggs being laid. Also, check out the new, high-tech nest boxes. :) The hens lay mostly in the morning, about 8AM to 2PM, peaking around 10AM PST. Some of it might be like watching paint dry, but seeing a hen lay an egg is interesting. The youngsters from last year's Chickam (Honkey, Scrambles and Potato) are adults now, and are laying eggs too.
I plan on setting up the incubators later this week, and starting the eggs on February 27--hatch date should be 21 days later, on March 20th--the first day of Spring! The incubator cam will be turned on the day before hatch, March 20th. At that point you should be able to see the eggs wobble and hear the chicks inside peeping. After the hatch, the cam will be moved to the brooder box so y'all can see and hear baby chicks running around like ninnyhammers. It's cool, watching eggs hatch is fascinating! :)
I'll post links to the cams when they are up and running!
Fun Fact: While a hen goes and SITS on a nest in order to lay and egg, while she is actually LAYING the egg she stands up!
Kids...
December 24, 2008
Mine just came slamming in from the backyard, where she's been playing, trying to get a few outdoor hours logged before the rain starts, and burning off the 'TOMORROW IS CHRISTMAS!' energy. She goes out and plays with the chickens, who are by now used to her running up and just scooping them up for hugs and kisses, and patiently submit--even Phoenix, our huge rooster. Some of her favorites are Potato, Scrambles and Honkey, the youngsters from the June hatch this year.
So when she came in just now she yelled, "Hey mom, guess what? I just kissed Potato on the mistletoe!" Then she was gone again, with another slam of the back door.
My response, a full 3 seconds later: "What...?"
Heh. Kids!
Weird Nesting Spot #176 Or; Oh, Come ON!
November 17, 2008
The chickens have outdone themselves this year on finding odd nesting sites to hide eggs in. Sometimes we spot them right away, other times we don't. Mostly it's the banties that pull this stunt, being more savvy then their heavier laying hen sisters.
What's this? Why, it's the 'green waste' trash can, stuffed full to overflowing this week! A couple of branches that didn't quite fit are sticking out and propping the lid open a bit, but surely THAT won't cause any issues, will it now?
Will it? Wait--what's that...?
Arrgghhh! Of course, a hidden nest that is SO perfect, four of the little buggers had to lay there. Those are rock-hard Carrotwood seed pods, too.
Heck, that's nuthin'. The day before Halloween we found THIS gem, tucked away in a pot of aquarium gravel I'd just put out after transferring N.'s monster goldfish to their new tank:
The gravel was still wet, for crying out loud!
But for sheer esoteric beauty, my personal favorite is this one from August:
While we were making the new chicken run, we set our tools on top of the rabbit hutch to keep them out of the kid's reach. The banties (once again) decided that the wooden top of a rabbit hutch, out in the open, in a bunch of zip ties was PERFECTION ITSELF.
I just liked the swirly pattern they created.
Barnyard Politics...
November 4, 2008
The kid is all excited about elections after her yearly trip with me to the polling place. So she's having a 'Chicken Election' this afternoon in the back yard.
The candidates?
Bu-cawk Obama and John Buck-cain.
Group Shot...
June 28, 2008
Here are our baker's dozen!
We have one Frizzle for sure, the light gray bird at the right side.
Good & Bad...
June 19, 2008
Good: One of the eggs in the incubator is pipping, 48 hours early! Hopefully the chick is formed enough to survive, and we're working on moving the cam over to the incubator & off the 25 day old chicks. There are 50 eggs in this batch, and candling the other day showed that some were clear (never developed), some had shells too dark to tell, and others had dark masses inside that meant chicks--alive or dead, we cannot tell.
We're back to Stickam for this hatch:
http://www.stickam.com/chickam2008/
Bad: We just lost one of our favorite hens, Beast, to some damned mystery illness that stumped us, our fellow chicken owner friends, AND our vet. Best he could say was it was something bacterial in nature. Seems no amount of Lasix and Baytril could save her, and the best I could do was to pet her, talk to her and be with her as she went. Meanwhile, Louise and Houdini, who caught it first and were some deathly ill, have recovered and are fine.
This is extra depressing since yesterday Beast had turned a corner and was walking around the house, talking and eating up a storm on her own, we felt we just needed to fatten her up a bit and she'd be fine. :(
Letting Mother Nature Throw In, Too
April 11, 2008
In addition to the eggs in the incubator, which are due to hatch in another two weeks, we have two broody hens that we gave some eggs to, also. Their eggs are due to hatch today...nothing yet as of nearly 2PM, but today or tomorrow should see some tiny balls of fluff. Here they are in the custom hen pen that J. made, which we moved inside the enclosed run the other day:
This way, they are protected by the walls of the run and protected again from any jealous hens who may try and take over the chicks or just plain fight the moms. Boots is on the left with two eggs, Moet is on the right with three eggs. Each got their own fancy cardboard box nest. Hopefully these two moms can share the space, if not, one of them will have to be removed and the remaining broody hen will take charge of all 5 chicks--provided the eggs hatch!
Moet has been growling at me since yesterday when we moved her and Boots into the hen pen, I think she's SURE I'm going to mess with her eggs again. Whatever the reason, I'm on her Sh*t List!
Here We Go Again...
April 6, 2008
It's been a couple of years since we hatched baby chickens and I couldn't resist any longer, so I dusted off the incubator. The candidates to choose from:
...and the final group, 45 assorted eggs:
If I was sure of the mom, I wrote their name on their eggs. The green and blue ones are various Americaunas/Americaunas mix eggs, the small ones are bantam eggs, white ones are Polish, the large brown ones Buff Orpington, New Hampshire and Kriaenkoppe eggs, 45 eggs total. The 'X' marks are a marker they all get, an X on one side and a O on the other, so you can tell at a glance at egg turning time (three times a day) which ones you have turned and which you haven't.
In three weeks I'll post pictures of the hatch!
Two For One Sale On Chicken Emergencies, Aisle 3!
March 21, 2008
So yesterday afternoon, we had not one, but TWO hens appear on the back step with dire health issues...one was Houdini, a small gray and white bantam hen, who had managed to rip off one toenail and was bleeding pretty good. She had the sense to come and stand and bleed on the back porch so I'd see her, and let me pick her up and bring her in to clean it up and apply Kwik-Stop, a birdie coagulant. We get her fixed up and close her up in the bathroom for a bit until the she is OK to go outside again without reopening the wound, and return out back again to finish feeding the animals and putting them away.
Then I see Chicken Sister, the surviving VERY elderly buff cochin bantam hen twin, standing in one place, facing the garage door. I do the 'Food' call, and she doesn't move.
Crap.
Go over to look at her and see her do the trademark 'eggbound hen' strain. DAAAAMMMNNNN!!! At age 8 or 10 years (we got her and her twin sister as adults in 2001), she's way too old for this egg-laying nonsense. I can see the egg crowning when she pushes, but it ain't comin' out any time soon.
Grab her and truck HER into the house, for nasty egg binding treatment, which involves me oiling up a finger and getting personally acquainted with her most holy of holies, something which dignified old ladies like her do NOT approve of. The egg is stubborn, so she gets to spend the night on the kitchen floor on a heating pad in hopes of her laying the egg herself. Meanwhile, Houdini has ceased bleeding and is allowed to return to the flock.
This morning, Chicken Sister still has not produced the egg and is straining harder with a pained squeak, and no amount of oiling/coaxing by pressing with my fingers is moving that egg, so off to the vet we go.
Pop! He gets that egg out in under two seconds.
Everyone at the vets' office loves to see the chickens, though, I guess it's a break from dogs and cats all day long. Tonight Chicken Sister is again in the house so we can keep and eye on her and she can rest, tomorrow she should be able to return to the flock.
Weird Nesting Site #213
March 13, 2008
Today it was Millie, taking advantage of some stuff earmarked for garage storage...
She's actually tiny enough to fit into the Christmas tree stand, so I'm sure I'll find an egg in here later.
Poking around to make sure it's good enough for her egg...
Whoops, watch the footing--!
Whoa, whoa, WHOA!!! OK, be cool...
Hmmm... that foot must have something wrong with it, I never lose my balance...
Meanwhile, Stoney, a little banty hen, took the more mundane approach of actually using a nest box, although she DID have to growl and warn off Boots, who was looking to oust her.
The Darling Buds Of...March!
March 7, 2008
Spring has sprung, here at our house. Geraldine the tortoise is fully awake and chases you down to see if you are doing Something Interesting, the chickens are in full cackling crazed-egg-laying mode, and the flowers are doing their thing...
Ha, it's like a game of 'Which Does Not Belong?' The hens sometimes produce these tiny eggs in the Spring when their egg laying apparatus is gearing up.
Oh Boy, Mom's Got Grassy Shoes!
March 2, 2008
Yesterday we gave the front lawn it's first mowing since reseeding and fertilizing it a month ago. Turns out we actually timed the seed and food right, for a change, and got it down just before tons of rain scattered off and on, perfect to make the thing grow like mad.
I went out back last evening to relax and get in a little quality chicken time before dark. As I sat in a chair, I suddenly had a huge group of chickens clustered around my feet, all eager to clean the bits of cut grass off my shoes. Sadly, I'd cleaned my shoes very well before walking though the house, so there wasn't much.
Cue unhappy chicken noises from a bunch of SPOILED birds.
So; dorky, easily-controlled-human me goes out front again to walk aimlessly around on the front lawn, doing my best to collect lots of yummy grass bits on my shoes again. I only got one strange look from one of the neighbors, so I count it as a success.
Out back again, this time I grabbed the camera on the way through the house. The gentle pecking from all those beaks was a weird feeling...
Yum, Mom's got Grassy Shoes, my favorite!
The New Run Is Finished!...
January 16, 2008
After many months of building, the new chicken run is finally done and housing the chickens nicely! Here are two pictures of the old coop before:
And the area where the new run was attached to the existing coop, which was left in place.
I had to give up my clothesline area temporarily.
The new run's framework is tubular steel, which used to be a canopy over our patio. A windstorm pretty much took care of the canopy one night, leaving the steel skeleton. So we recycled it!
Unfortunately one of our elderly little bantam hens, Chicken Sister (she used to have a twin sister, hence her name) in this shot has fallen into the trench we dug to bury the hardware cloth below ground in. She was looking over her shoulder at me taking the picture when she SHOULD have been watching where she was going. This is her doing her impersonation of a chicken pancake, poor baby. Only her dignity was hurt, though.
Everyone enjoyed the freshly dug dirt, to a chicken this is irresistable.
The hardware cloth going up...
...and the doorway is framed in. Sheet metal connects the existing cinder block fence to the canopy framework. We didn't use wire here in order to reduce drafts.
The corrugated steel roof going on. J. used steel 2x4's and sprayed in expansion foam to help seal any openings.
The view from the inside. Where the sheets of hardware cloth met, J. overlapped them by several inches and I secured the gaps with UV resistant heavy duty zip ties to keep out rodents, possums, etc.
A better look at the sheet metal, which was bolted to the cinderblock fence.
The interior of the roof, steel 2 x 4s were staggered.
Inside again, looking towards the old coop. We left the old coop as it was and just removed a wire panel off the front of it to create the opening into the new run. The old coop door we closed securely and left as it was.
A better view of the old coop opening and how old and new connect to each other.
The wire panel removed and the nest boxes rearranged. You can see the expansion foam in place in the ceiling. Even my daughter's bunny had to check it out!
Done!
More From The OC Fair...
August 18, 2007
Before I forget, a few more pics from the Orange County Fair, now gone for another year...
We visited the show chickens the day they were there, and ran across this unlikely duo:
While the Polish rooster on the right is obviously smitten and very much in love, the Quail Bantam hen is having none of it, she is all fluffed up and flared out, and by her repeated growls we could tell she would like nothing better than to have a go at this nervy fellow.
Those Quail bantams DID have damned cute, fluffy faces though, and now I have ANOTHER breed to add to my 'want' list:
She looks like a stuffed toy, I swear.
Bye, Liz...
August 3, 2007
Just a little while ago, Elizabeth left us.
This is Liz cooling off on a hot day. We were forced to buy Elizabeth, a Jersey Giant hen, BY Elizabeth one day in 2003 when we went to the feed store. Liz ran over from across the pen and chased after us up and down the fence, staring at us and crying until we gave in. It was weird, her whole attitude was one of, "Where have you BEEN?! I've been waiting and waiting!". We couldn't resist those great, dark, melting eyes though. Liz was extremely sweet and friendly, calm and never mean. She was polite and had excellent manners. She sported beautiful greenish-black feathers and black legs, and laid many truly huge dark brown eggs. We lost her daughter, Rita, earlier this year but Elizabeth's granddaughter, Skitters, is still with us.
She was lovely old girl and we'll miss her.
Damn, She Was One Of My Favorites
May 8, 2007
Rita in the back, Poof peeking in on the left.
Rita was a feisty, headstrong little Cochin/Jersey Giant mix that we hatched ourselves back in 2003. She was one of my favorites and whenever I sat down out back, would come RUNNING over as fast as she could waddle (cochins aren't built for speed) to sit in my lap--and woe betide any other chicken that wanted equal lap time! Rita would warn them off right away. She would sit in my lap for as long as I would let her, and complained loudly when I set her down again. Often I'd have Rita on one knee, Babs on the other--Babs was a gift from Fingle's household, and Babs thinks she is still a baby chick and insists on sitting on your lap with her head rammed in your armpit--under your wing, as it were. Rita had a habit of at the last minute, sticking her head into pictures we tried to take of the other chickens. The end result was like bad vacation snapshots. So it's kind of fitting that in the photo above, Poof is doing it to her.
Rita died yesterday. I don't even know what killed her. Granted, it was nearly 100 degrees yesterday, our first really hot day this year. I had gone out like I always do on hot days to hose off the chickens and yard to keep things cooler for the animals. I had gone out at 8:30AM, 10:30AM and 12:30PM. Everything was fine. I even stopped to talk to her and pet her and all was well. At 2PM when I went again to hose things off, we found her in the coop, sitting in the corner as if to lay an egg and breathing a bit hard. Since she was distressed (we thought by the heat), we brought her in to cool off. She died less than 5 minutes later. She had been eating, drinking and carrying on normally up until then. I don't know what's worse--having an animal get ill and die slowly or go quickly like that.
Rita was one of those animals that 'picked out her human'--she chose ME as her favorite human first, not the other way around. Rita's mother, Elizabeth, is elderly but still with us, and Rita's daughter, Skitters, is twice as feisty and psycho as Rita ever was. Even Moet, our very elderly Frizzle Cochin who was Rita's foster mama, is still with us.
This is Rita as a baby, back in 2003.
Last night when I went out to sit with the chickens in the evening, Rita's mother, Liz, jumped up in my lap and sat with me a while.
She's never done that before. I appreciated it.
Indoor Egg Hunt, Again...
March 22, 2007
After suffering a setback which involved her darting out underneath the running feet of N. and getting stepped on, Maggie has bounced back. She is now back to the point of standing and hopping again, and seems to be settling in as Housechicken Supreme. She's got the routine down. We put her out in her little run during the day but she spends the night in the kitchen. Maggie has discovered (to our endless amusement) that owing to the slickness of the linoleum floor, she can get around quicker and easier if she flaps her wings madly and does her little hippity-hop run simultaneously, thus zooming about the kitchen. It looks like chicken ice skating. Maggie has adjusted well, and has learned that there is a lesser chance of N. stepping on her if she sensibly stays put on her towel in the evenings.
But the other day it was raining, and since she is still sitting most of the time, Maggie had to stay inside.
Cue loud, unhappy chicken howls. Lots of them. From a BIG hen.
I did open the sliding glass door a bit so she could at least socialize with the other chickens who were huddled on the back porch. THEY howled because it was cold and wet outside, and Maggie was dry and warm INSIDE. I mostly yelled back for EVERYONE to shut up, already.
After a bit I went out to the living room to fold laundry, and listened to Maggie whine and move about restlessly. I knew what THAT meant, but didn't really have anything for her to lay her egg in or on--besides, no matter how nice of a nest you make for a chicken trapped indoors, they will inevitably choose their OWN nesting spot.
She did, finally, here she is giving me a dirty look:
Under my desk. She did manage to pull over a file folder and scatter it's contents, but that was easily picked up later on.
Hopping Hens Here!
February 9, 2007
To borrow a phrase from one of our favorite PBS children's shows, 'Between The Lions'.
Maggie is improving, and has graduated from full-time Housechicken to part-time backyard flock member--she still comes indoors at night.
She hops/limps with loud 'thud's around the kitchen in the evening and still sits a lot, but is definetely on the mend. We are pretty sure it was a fracture in her hip or thigh, and the only thing to do is allow her to heal unmolested--hence the custom hen condo that J. whipped together last weekend. This keeps her safely isolated from overzealous roosters and jealous hens who might reinjure her.
Sigh...isn't this leg EVER going to get better?
We figure another week or so of this nonsense and we'll be able to reintegrate her into the flock, which will involve some intervention on our part with any of the hens that decide they want to pick a fight with her and knock her down a peg or two in the pecking order.
That's a whole 'nother story though--chickens have a rigid sense of caste--their flock's pecking order. Who is Head Hen and Head Roo, who is Beta, and so on down the line. Older laying hens are usually at the top, followed by younger laying hens and bantams, then at the bottom are newcomers and youngsters. Whenever we introduce new birds to our flock we hold what we call 'Meet & Greets'. That is where we bring the new bird out into the yard and set it down on the ground, right at our feet. The other chickens will come around and trash talk at the new bird and once in a while puff themselves up and try to peck the new bird. That's when we step in and growl threateningly at them and chase them off a bit, just like a mother hen would protect her chicks. We are, in essence, letting them know that 'this is MY baby, and under MY protection!' and we have a zero tolerance policy towards pecking them. Since we humans are the head of the flock, the other flock members usually catch on pretty quick that our 'baby' is not to be messed with and retreat, grumbling disgustedly. We've found if we do this for about 20 minutes for a couple of days, we can then release the new birds into the flock for good with far less butt kicking and chicken-y angst.
Chickens have amazingly complex emotions, which in turn often leads to soap opera-like drama.
Meet Maggie...
January 9, 2007
Maggie is a LARGE New Hampshire breed hen. She is the classic 'Little Red Hen', except Maggie weighs in at around 6-8 pounds. Maggie was a freebie from the feed store (they know we are softies and take all their injured birds) about a year and a half ago. She has a bad left leg, which although it supports her and she runs for food just fine, thank you, has a set of curled-up toes. She can move her toes, they just don't unfurl into the classic chicken foot shape. It hasn't slowed her down or hindered her abilities in any way, and she has been a fine little (ok, HUGE) hen.
The other day I found Maggie sitting under one of the bushes at feeding time. She didn't come running for dinner like the others, so automatically I knew something was wrong, and suspected the bad leg. Bingo. She doesn't want to stand up or put weight on it. We hope it's just temporary, a slight injury that will heal in a few days. So into the house she came, placed on an old towel in the kitchen with food and water nearby.
That was 4 days ago, and she has since learned to gracefully endure N. running around, me washing dishes right next to her (she talks to me while I work) and us throwing things away in the trash can right next to her. For this she is duly rewarded with assorted treats, lots of pets and attention. She has learned all about The Big White Foodbox and that when humans open it goodies come forth, and how to whine plaintively if she somehow gets forgotten.
In return, Maggie has gifted us with 4 lovely large brown eggs, laid right there on her towel with a little clucking, muttering and talking. We do our bit and praise and pet her, properly admiring the egg before we put it in the egg basket. We've let Phoenix, the Head Rooster, in to visit with her a couple of times so that she doesn't get too lonely and the other chickens don't start crying for her. Maggie likes it when she has company and eats and drinks better when there are others in the room eating and drinking--chicken or human, doesn't make any difference to her. A flock is a flock. We were hoping that it was an egg pressing on a nerve that was causing the leg problem, as happens sometimes, but after the fourth egg was laid we figured it must be an injury after all. Now Maggie is standing sometimes and shakily putting weight on the leg, while staring at it in irritation, so she's making progress. Meanwhile she's been a better houseguest than most humans, and is playing the 'dignified old dame' part well.
Time will tell!
Two Went This Time...
August 28, 2006
We lost two of our hens this week, two days apart.
Helen
Cutie
It was sheer coincidence that they both fell ill at the same time, with two seperate problems. Usually we can dampen or even cure most chicken ailments with our arsenal of preparations, books and online help from friends. This time we knew right away that it was time to take them to the vet, so we did.
It wasn't good news.
Helen had Proventriculitis. It's an inflammation or blockage of the proventriculus (stomach) of a bird. Sometimes you can nail down a cause such as an obvious blockage or a mycotoxin, but usually its cause is a frustrating mystery; which was true in Helens' case. She got sick and died within two days, and the vet told us surgery was not an option, just to take her home and make her comfortable. He gave us meds to try just in case, he's a softie when it comes to chickens.
Helen was the only daughter of Jack, our beloved Barred Rock rooster of many years. She was a very calm girl except at feeding time, when she would YELL. She has a brother, Phoenix, who is currently our Head Rooster.
The other hen was Cutie. Cutie was so named because she habitually would look up at you with a cute little tilt to her head, as in her picture. Cutie contracted a fungal condition known as Favus, which caused her face to start peeling. It was several days before we could nail down what was going on, but both Cutie and Helen were given antibiotics and an antifungal from the vet. Despite our dosing them and handfeeding them every 30 minutes, Helen died on Friday and Cutie died last night. The were hatchmates, we hatched them in 2003.
I love having the chickens, but it is so hard when they die. It's especially worrisome to have two seemingly healthy birds go so quickly, and have to now worry about the others.
Lily Passes
April 21, 2006
Lily was my Valentine's Day present in 2006. To heck with flowers, say it with chickens! She was a stunning adult white Sultan hen who was suffering from a VERY bad respiratory infection when we got her, doubly dangerous for a crested breed. She had to stay in the house for several weeks on antibiotics until it had cleared, but was obviously the worse for it and was never strong. She had no concept of getting the heck out of the way and tended to look a little too much like a pair of sweatsocks when she plonked herself down in the middle of the floor. Lily was very sweet and loving towards humans, but jealous of other chickens. Lily had her own idea of where she ranked in the pecking order and it was near the TOP, thank you. She 'talked' and chewed her words just like a Siamese cat. And Lily talked CONSTANTLY.
Lily picked fights with most of the other chickens, the roos included. Nothing serious, just enough to get the point across not to EVER mess with her. Note in the picture how close we are standing, ready to step in and break up any fights.
Trouble is brewing...note Lily's flared tail!
Oops, henfight! Nothing serious, just some chest bumping. We broke it up right away.
Anytime you introduce new adult birds to the flock, there is going to be a certain amount of squabbling. We only step in if it gets excessive or turns to bullying.
Because of this Lily ended up spending most of her time alone, and was having a bit of trouble coming to the horrible realization that she must now sleep in the coop with those other chicken-things. Instead, she always wanted to be in the house and at dusk when it was time to close up the coop, we'd find her waiting politely but a tad impatiently on the back porch for one of those idiot humans to open the door and let her in. Lily never really realized she was a chicken, and just decided to refuse to believe that particular nasty rumor.
We will miss her, she was only with us for two months but we just loved how special and unique she was.
Goodbye, darlin' Lil.
Happy Easter!
April 15, 2006
Thankfully, none of the 7 newly hatched chicks from this weekend are anywhere NEAR this color...
NO, Cutie was broody and was NOT amused. She bit the HELL out my hand when I reached in to take them out again. Serves me right, really.
And So Boots Becomes A First-Time Mother...
April 12, 2006
...amazing creature...!
Cochins make incredible moms. Exploring the house...
Mealworm Tug O War!
The first dustbath with mom--ah, bliss!
Oh Good, More Rain.
March 28, 2006
I just can't say that and sound sincere anymore. And I love rain. But really...Mother Nature, are you listening? Enough, please. The snowpack is good, the lakes are full, the lawn is lush, the car has been rinsed clean. We're good here. I think that Texas is most likely still (or again) on fire, could you send a little their way? Thankyouverymuch.
Besides which, the chickens look like drowned rats and are NOT happy. When they aren't happy, they blame ME.
The "Before" version of Phoenix:
Oh NO!!! Don't take my PICTURE!
Off-Season Indoor Easter Egg Hunt!
March 3, 2006
When it's raining heavily, as it is this morning, we have 5 hens that need to take shelter in the house. This is because their heavily feathered head crests can get wet, pull on their heads and cause brain injuries. Since they don't have the sense to shelter in the coop during the rain, inside they come. Usually they are well mannered and just kind of tool around in the kitchen until the rain stops and they can go back outside to hunt for drowned bugs.
But today, unfortunately, TWO of the girls were gearing up to lay an egg.
This means lots of anxious searching for THE perfect nest site, accompianied by top-of-the-lungs caterwauling. We've gone through this before, so I just try to wait it out, reassuring them from time to time that they are OK, and repeated pleas to just lay the damned egg already.
So Poof searches and inspects the area behind one of the living room end tables...
Hmmmm....nice, but not quite perfect...how about in that pile of unfolded laundry?
Perfect!
Meanwhile, the other hen, Sugar, has become ominously quiet. When I go to find out where she has gotten to, I find her thus:
That's a bowl full of oranges I picked off the backyard tree yesterday, intended for Blood Orange jelly and marmalade today. I removed the egg (and the one in the laundry) later after it was properly worshipped and appreciated by all, an important part of the egg laying process.
I think this is quite possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. :)
I Find It Interesting...
February 19, 2006
that the amazing and beautiful rainbow of eggs we get from our assorted flock of hens includes creamy pink, army green, robin's egg blue, pale blue, beige and dark brown...note the lone white egg in the center...
...the hens who lay these eggs are generally your Basic Model Chickens, although some DO have the Americaunas facial tufts and beards. Hardly exotic looking though.
Amusingly, the REALLY exotic-looking hens, the Polish, with their fancy headgear and beautiful lacing on their feathers--
...are our only white egg layers. :)
Whatd'ya mean, my eggs are 'plain'?!
How To Annoy A Chicken...
February 3, 2006
...or a whole BUNCH of chickens.
Time to dust everyone for mites! Oh, joy.
Since our chickens free-range (fancy talk meaning they walk around the back yard), they hang out with the wild birds, who in their comings and goings, leave behind not-so-pleasant calling cards in the form of parasites, both internal and external. Our chickens are very healthy and having great immune systems, rarely get ill. However we do take the precaution of worming them and dusting them with Sevin (an insecticide powder). Usually we only have to undergo this routine twice a year, but occasionally there is an outbreak of mites that demands an unscheduled round of 'Piss Off Your Pets'. Like yesterday.
Thankfully, yesterday no worming was needed, we had just seen some creepy crawlies on a couple of the hens so we got out the Sevin. Dusting is a procedure that any self respecting chicken RESISTS, and resists with vigor. It neccessitates grabbing the bird in one hand, a handful of Sevin in the other, and massaging the dust deep into the chickens' feathers, all over their body. ALL over their body. Including wingpits and undercarriage. Hens, quite rightly, have a deeply-seated sense of dignity and modesty, and DO NOT take kindly to having J. grope them in such a familiar and thorough manner, and in full view of the rest of the flock. My job was to catch the chickens and hand them over to J. for dusting (the look they shot me reminded me of french aristos going to the guillotine), a process which is much easier in some birds than others. Sweethearts like Babs, Rita, Sugar and Phoenix complied with a minimum of squawking and struggle, but some of the others (Houdini, Juliette and Splash), when they caught on quickly to what was going on, became deliberately slippery and impossible to catch. As the procedure wore on, the dusted birds would stand fearlessly at our feet, in an invincible, "Hah, I'VE already been done!" manner. The as-yet-unmolested chickens hid under any available bush or lawn chair and willed themselves invisible.
Eventually everyone got done, and the coop, roosts and nests as well--for when you dust you have to do the living quarters as well, otherwise it's like taking a shower and putting on grimy clothes. Today not ONE of the chickens will come near me, their noses are severely out of joint. I'll bribe them in a bit with a leftover cheeseburger...food goes along way in chickenland.
It's A Plot, I Tell Ya...
September 23, 2005
In their ongoing quest to brood and hatch a clutch of eggs, my hens have started laying away again. 'Laying away' means creating little sneaky nests anywhere BUT the lovely nest boxes that J. made especially-special for them. They do this juuuust infrequently enough so that we forget about it, until we realize that for the last few days our egg production has dropped by half.
Then it's off to play Off Season Easter Egg Hunt. Usually it's the banties that pull this stunt, who, if you ask the man that owns one; will tell you are wicked clever little snots. Favorite hidden nest spots of the past (not counting eggs laid in the house) include:
an old wheelbarrow full of potting soil and large gravel that I was going to use as a planter, eggs laid DIRECTLY on the stones...
in a trash can...
in an unfinished rabbit hutch...
And in a BAR-B-QUE, for cri-yi!
Also in a long redwood planter, on top of the folding table and my personal favorite: suspended in air in the branches of the sage bush in the herb garden. That was a good one, we didn't find THAT little treasure trove for nearly two weeks. Silly us, we were looking UNDER the bush...
Usually when a hen is going to lay an egg, the entire neighborhood hears about it in advance for some 20 minutes. Loud, anxious cackling along with a desperate hunt for THE PERFECT SOMEPLACE TO LAY THIS EGG TO END ALL EGGS. She is accompanied by the rooster, who will follow her around crawling into lovely dark hidey-holes, burbling charmingly and suggestively, trying to sell her on HIS special nest.
After several long minutes of this nonsense, including loud, repeated requests to be allowed in the house to lay the egg there (NO thank you, I fell for THAT one before), she finally settles on the same spot she always lays her eggs. It's when she gets quiet that she's actually laying the egg, followed by another round of explosive, joyful cackling which all the other hens take up, too. A hen will lay an average of 6 eggs a week, or an egg every other day. Say you've got 10 hens. Each one cackles for herself AND all the others for every freakin' egg. Now you know why farmers drive tractors. It's so they can get a few minutes of QUIET.
Currently we have six hens that have gone broody--that is, they've Gone Over To The Dark Side. Suddenly the sweetest, gentlest little hen morphs into Godzilla. She stays on the nest all day in a trance. She will come off the nest once or twice a day to eat, drink, and poop massively and with a grand stink. The other chickens run for the other side of the yard when a broody comes off the nest and stomps, clucking loudly and angrily, across the yard. It's chicken PMS From Beyond Hell. God help you if you stick your hand near her to roust her off the nest or, most heinous crime of all, take her eggs. Loud, chicken-y death shrieks, fluffing up and bloodletting (yours) follow quickly. Most heartbreaking of all is the nearly human shrieks from the hens that sound JUST like they are sobbing, "Nooooo!" as you remove the eggs from under them. We are heartless, murderous fiends to take their unborn and yes, we feel lower than dirt and apologize.
So lucky us, we've got SIX of these right now. Since we don't want more chicks, we have to both take their eggs each day (the other chickens gleefully find a broody hen and climb in with her to lay their eggs) AND roust them off their nests and into the safety of the coop each night. Some of the broods have formed Survivor-ish alliances and sit together in one nest. That's better, that way no matter HOW you stick your hand in there you're gonna get bit.
Little snots...
Ya Gotta Think Like A Kid...
August 14, 2005
This evening I was out enjoying the grass and visiting with the chickens since I'm going to be in the house for the next few days/weeks recovering from ankle surgery (our house is raised and has no wheelchair ramps).
Phoenix the rooster...
Ain't he cute? Goofy, but pretty!
came over to be friendly, so I picked him up, talked to him and petted him. I teased him a bit with my standard line as I gently felt his little meaty thighs, "Ooh, aren't we a yummy,meaty bird! Umm, yep he's just about ready, FEEL those meaty little drumsticks!" Phoenix just gives me a "Sure, like you'd ever really eat me. I know you're full of BS." look and bears with it. N. came over and said, "Can I?" OK, I said, but gently. She does, feeling his thigh and saying, "Yum, ice cream!"
I was laughing so hard I had to set Phoenix down. Drumsticks = ice cream, in the mind of a 5 year old... :)
Fun With WHAT?!
January 25, 2005
...worms. Earthworms, to be specific. This afternoon we took advantage of the fleeting nice weather to go out and play with the kid and chickens. For N. this involves just about anything, with the chickens today it involved J. with a shovel. The older ones know what The Shovel means and come running to stand on the blade as you are trying to dig.
We weren't planting anything, mind you. Just turning over the earth for the pure sake of breaking the soil, which ya gotta do in warm weather or die. It feeds the soul and calms the spirit. What with all the rain we've had lately the eartworms were numerous and near the surface. The chickens happily pounced on them, not caring that N. was telling them that SHE wanted one to hold and look at. Finally she got one of her own, and as I sat there mentally toting up how much I'd spent this Christmas on toys, she piled some loose dirt on an old cinderblock and commenced to tell her worm about his new house. Then she tried to stuff him into it, only to be robbed of her new plaything by Rita, a small black cochin hen. Not shy about food, our Rita. I struggle against laughing out loud as N. looks at Rita in shock and yells, "Hey--! Mom, she took my worm and I wasn't done playing with it!" Not only this, but Bear has noticed the Worm Home that N. has built and realizes that she saw Rita grab a worm out of it. Destructor Bear moves in like a feathered bulldozer and obliterates the carefully constructed Worm Home, looking mildly annoyed at wasting precious food hunting time when no more worms are forthcoming. We leap to keep everyone happy with more digging, being more careful to seperate the five year old's worms from the chicken's worms.
Eventually the chickens tire of gobbling worms, which is good because several of them look as if they are in real danger of exploding. Liz has fallen into the holes several times lunging for a worm, and Bear has used the smaller birds for traction. A few of the birds are squeamish about the worms though. I guess it's the dirt that sticks to them. Phoenix the rooster only takes one for the barest instant, just to be polite, spitting it out with a nearly audible ptooey for one of the hens and then shaking his head afterwards. I do get him to eat a few that I have cleaned the dirt off of, but he doesn't look all that thrilled.
After a while we give up and go sit down. I see that Bear has a bit of root material hanging from her beak, and have J. hold her while I grasp her head and pull it out of her mouth. When I open her beak I get a full dose of Worm Breath, which I'm here to tell ya ain't pretty. Meanwhile N. is kinda having a good time by sending earthworms down her slide, but she has to keep getting a new worm each time because the old one has mysteriously dissapeared.
Several happy chickens wait at the bottom of the slide, though.
Goodbye, Jack
August 7, 2004
Well, just to keep the depression going, we lost Jack, our 8 year old Barred Rock rooster last night. He and Wild Child were a couple, the grand old couple of the flock. He died quietly in his sleep less than 48 hours after she did. We buried him right next to Wild Child in a bed of roses just like hers. You cannot tell me that there is no such thing as dying of a broken heart, because now I have seen it. There was nothing else wrong with Jack.
The rest of the flock is mostly standing around staring at each other or wandering aimlessly about the yard in clumps. They look at each other as if to say, "Well, what do we do now?" In two short days they have lost their father, protector and lover in Jack, and their mother, matriarch and guardian in Wild Child. The flock dynamic has been thrown into turmoil with no clear successors to either the Head Roo or Head Hen posts.
We are trying to keep them company as much as we can. When we go out into the yard they group around us more than they normally do, even the normally more standoffish birds. I'm trying to adjust to the loss of two long-time and well-loved pets. Anyone who has ever had an older pet, no matter what kind, knows how incredibly cool and laid-back they are to have around. I also can't help but look at the others and wonder who is next. Several of our chickens are older and recent events have left me gun-shy, trying to steel myself to finding another dead bird. It's no fun.
Jack was our household symbol. We use his image and his name in our email, our Internet dealings...so many things. Emotionally I'm a train wreck, but that is, indeed, the cost of keeping pets. It's just hard when such a big bill comes due all at once.
This has not been a good week.
Wild Child Passes
August 5, 2004
Well, we have lost another one.
This time it was our flock's Head Hen, a lovely Silver Laced Wyandotte with the clunky and graceless name of Wild Child. She gained that name nearly ten years ago when we brought her and her two sisters home from the feed store. Then they were tiny, day and a half old baby chicks with their egg tooth still attached. For those that don't know, on birds the egg tooth is the small, hard tip of their beaks that assists them in breaking out of their shells when they hatch. It falls off within the first three days of life.
The reason she was named Wild Child was to help us tell the new arrivals apart from each other. We figured that we would come up with real names for the chicks shortly. 'Wild Child' was what we called her since she was a very boisterous chick, running around and jumping on her sisters' heads when they weren't looking.
Unfortunately for her, the name stuck. So Wild Child she became for good and all.
Wild Child naturally took on the position of Head Hen--she can peck everyone else but no one pecks her, she is leader of the flock. She is the one in my previous posts that climbed up on top of the coop, couldn't get down and had to call us out in the yard to rescue her. She was the one who would call out and alert us to trouble in the yard.
The day before yesterday we noticed that Wild Child was refusing food and simply standing, eyes closed, in the shade under her favorite bush. Yesterday was the same, so we knew that something was up and strongly suspected that she was making her exit. She wasn't sick, just old.
I brought her into the house a bit before 3PM and offered her a small dish of goodies, which she looked at but politely shook her head, refusing. Now when a chicken won't eat, something is wrong. Her body temperature had also fallen. I wrapped her in a bath towel and sat with her on my lap for the next 5 1/2 hours, gently stroking her head and talking to her as she slept. I had mixed up a small amount of baby bird handfeeding formula with some other things, and this I gave her with an eyedropper every 45 minutes to keep her comfortable and hydrated. Around 7PM I had gotten up to stretch my legs and as I walked by the back door, I noticed that every single chicken of our flock had crammed themselves up onto the back porch, something they had never done. I knew what they wanted and opened the back door so that they could come in and visit Wild Child, which they did quietly and one at a time before filing out again.
Over her last few hours Wild Child got quieter and quieter and we knew the time was near. Finally it was 8PM and my daughter's bedtime. She gently petted Wild Child and told her goodnight and goodbye.
Not two minutes later Wild Child gave a single flap of her wings and died in my arms, as I told her I loved her and goodbye.
We'll miss her. Today the other chickens are wandering about looking lost. She would have been 10 years old this coming April and was the cornerstone, guardian, mother, flock representative, disciplinarian and matriarch of the flock. She led the group out of the coop in the morning and called them to roost in the evening.
When you have a pet for that many years they are a member of your family, no matter what kind of animal they are. They become as much a part as your personality and entangled in your family history as any other member of your household.
Our most affectionate farewell to our Wild Child.
New Additions To The Family
July 29, 2004
Making a simple trip to the feed store can be dangerous.
Pictured here are three of the newest additions to the group of Garden Destructors we have living in the back yard:
These are two small--but incredibly heavy--Cornish Rock Bantam hens that so far have the unflattering name of "The Tank Girls" They are extremely sweet and have that so-ugly-you-love-it quality to their faces--they remind me of the extinct Dodo bird. They are wider than they are tall and have a definite waddle when they walk. They can't climb up the ladder to roost, so we'll need to build a lower perch for them. They don't cluck so much as burble.
Here's the other new one--a young Polish hen, so hungry for attention that she runs up to us and jumps in our lap, or pecks your shoes to get you to pick her up. This behaviour led to the people at the feed store labeling her as not only a rooster, but 'mean' as well. This bird was obviously someone's lap pet before she came to us and doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Also with that huge poof of feathers on her head, she can't see worth a darn.
The new birds are settling in well, and our other birds are taking the new additions in stride. Of course, we have been doing some major league sucking up to the new and old birds with the help of a bag of mealworms--the equivilant of candy to chickens.
Horrid Tasty Thing
April 30, 2004
So this afternoon I was out enjoying the waning of the day...the chickens had been fed and were wandering contentedly about the yard...my daughter was playing happily with the bubbles I was blowing.
Suddenly one of the young chickens, Phoenix, darts across the yard over by the coop in what was CLEARLY the furtive, "I've got a really cool goodie" dash with three other birds in hot pursuit.
Problem is, I haven't handed OUT anything and it was clearly a large, tasty something that this chicken had in his beak.
Oh, God.
Off I go to give chase, wondering what the heck they've gotten into NOW. As I join the chicken parade and we all double-time it in circles around the yard, the Tasty Thing is looking more and more like...a fish.
A smallish fish, to be sure...
Wondering how in the Hell a fish has made it into my landlocked suburban yard, I get serious about getting Tasty Thing away from a very determined bird. By now the rest of the chickens have wisely given up the chase since the Head Hen (me) is obviously showing waaaay too much interest in Tasty Thing.
Except now Tasty Thing is actually looking kinda like a human finger...! A decrepit and rotting finger, but still very fingerlike nonetheless.
At this point I pick up my daughter's toy shovel, intent on getting Horrid Tasty Thing OUT of my pet's beak. Meanwhile, my husband, who throughout this entire time has been on the roof working on the air conditioner and has had a ringside seat to this fiasco, is shouting, "What is it? What IS IT?!"
"I dunno!" I yell back, brandishing the toy shovel at Phoenix, who has by now taken refuge under the patio table. NOW here comes my 4 year old daughter to 'help', saints preserve us. I make one last, desperate, blind lunge at the chicken under the table and am rewarded with a loud squawk. To my relief the offended bird runs out from under the other side of the table, sans Horrid Tasty Thing. Oh goodie, now I get to play with it.
"Jesus!" I involuntarily yell when I finally get a good look at it.
"What IS IT?!" Again from the roof, beginning to sound a little freaked out.
"Uh...." Ugh, necessity dictates that I now look closely at Horrid Tasty Thing, unwillingly assisted by a half-hearted prod from a handy nearby stick.
It...it's a...
"Geez, it's a SNAKE!" I call up to the roof. Actually it's just the head and an inch or two of neck/body and judging by the many beak holes in it, is obviously a discarded snack from the local crows...double ugh...
"Where in the Hell did they get a snake?!" from above in disbelief.
I don't know, but I've learned that where there's one, there's more. By the way, my brain whispers to me...where's the REST of Horrid Tasty Thing? Away to the coop I fly, searching for more bits and pieces. To my releif I don't find any, but this is also worrisome since I now wonder if my preschooler will be next to produce a grisly offering. I return to further inspect the decapitated monster, and decide that what it really is, is a REALLY BIG alligator lizard. Great. Lizards we have in abundance and I welcome them, although I much prefer them alive. Much better.
That poor chicken never did get Horrid Tasty Thing returned to him, but I did slip him a piece of pizza crust to help sooth any ruffled feathers.
Ahh, another sleepy day in suburbia...
While I'm Thinking Of It, Just A Few Anecdotal Chicken Stories...
April 18, 2004
Fog…
When our first three hens were 2 months old, they were moved from inside the house to the new coop in the back yard. They adapted well and loved their new surroundings.
Until early one morning we awoke to bloodcurdling, wailing cackling from the backyard. Up we leaped and in record time, visions of dying chickens in our heads, ran out into the back yard…to find that a heavy fog had descended and the chicken coop was hidden from view. Of course we realized instantly that this meant to the chickens, the reverse was true and the house was gone! We laughed and made our way to the coop and let out some very confused chickens. They made their way cautiously around the yard and we earned some dirty looks for laughing at them.
Adventures in Coop Climbing
We are spending a peaceful Saturday afternoon in the house, when suddenly we hear loud, plaintive drawn-out cackling from the yard. We dash out the back door to see who's being murdered. To our surprise, we can't locate the hen making the noise. We finally see her—on the roof (10 feet up!) of the chicken coop, yelling at us to GET...HER...DOWN...!!! She had jumped up on a half wall, from there to the top of the fence, to the top of the coop...
...and then discovered that she couldn't get down. J. climbed up and rescued her and she got a lecture about hopping up on things to explore the world. She has since stayed sensibly on the ground.
New Foods
Trying to be parents to baby chicks is a weird experience at best. They catch on to normal food and water just fine, but to teach them other new foods involves a tedious lot of calling chick!-chick!-chick!, endless pointing, and repeatedly picking up and dropping the tidbit. Our baby chicks love sauerkraut (go figure!) and mealworms. In fact, we discovered (accidentally!) that the small mealworms look juuuuust like another baby chick's toe…
Amid pained chick screams we were able to separate the two. My, but baby chicks hold on to food tightly!
Chickens love table scraps, and we have a lot of fun introducing them to new foods. On one occasion it was cooked spaghetti. The problem was, once the bird started to eat the noodle from one end, when they discovered that after one or two swallows, there was a huge length of noodle still to go they would start to panic. Now they are stuck, because they can't cough it back up and they haven't yet learned to bite or break it off-—the only choice is to grimly keep on swallowing. To their utter relief here comes the other end (finally!) but wait—now THAT end is flailing around and slapping them about the head and chest! Agghh! Horrors! And when they try to get away it follows them! I never knew that chickens could run in reverse.
They have since learned to break things into manageable bites...
What's That?
When our bantam hens were about 1 ˝ months old, they were running around on the living room floor with the adult chickens for a surpervised meet & greet before formally joining the flock outside. We've found that this procedure helps smooth the waters.
Our bantam rooster was perched on my husband's leg as he lay on the floor watching TV. Unbeknownst to the rooster, one of our bantam babies, Yin, was approaching the rooster from the rear.
Apparently she spotted the little pink 'button' under his tail.
Now--to a chicken, everything is food until proven otherwise.
The ensuing hearty peck to that roosters' nether region made him leap straight UP with a loud, pained squawk. This startled Yin, who ran off. When the rooster came down he glared at us for laughing, then spent the next two hours trying to sneak up on Yin from behind to return the favor. A simple chase and peck on the head wouldn't do—he was out for exact revenge.
He never did catch up with her, although I don't think he ever forgot the insult.
This is the same roo that once chased me into the bathroom after I laughed at him for falling off of a box he was roosting on the edge of. I had to literally climb through the bathtub to hide behind my husband (who was shaving at the time) while the rooster made little dissapointed noises in his throat at not being able to reach me, and that just made me laugh all the harder.
I still carry a small scar on the back of my hand from when he finally caught up with me. Roosters have a very deep rooted sense of dignity, fair play and justice.
Ever Had A Pet That Was Too Much Trouble?
March 26, 2004
I mean an animal that at the time seemed like a good match, healthy, happy, no problems...
...and once you get it home you realize what a horrible mistake you've made.
OK, maybe I'm overstating it a bit. But not much, I'll tell ya. Such is the case with Houdini. Houdini is a small Bantam hen of indeterminate heritage.
We first got Houdini at a local feedstore that carried adult chickens as well as baby chicks. This place was Chicken Hell. The conditions were horrible. As a matter of fact we got Houdini and Mrs. Black (mentioned previously) on the same day at this place.
Houdini is one of those pets that unfortunately EARNED her name. When we got her home we trimmed their wings and released both new birds into the flock. Everything went fine and they fit right in. Every so often we'd go out into the yard to check on things. After a few hours we suddenly heard an uproar in the yard, the whole flock was yelling their brains out. Out into the yard I ran, thinking that surely someone was being murdered. I stopped short on the patio, looking around for the trouble. Most of the flock was standing around looking alarmed, cackling loudly and staring goggle-eyed at a point over my head. It was then that I realized that there WAS something over my head an looked up. There, perched on the grape arbor 8 feet in the air, was Houdini.
Now, everyone knows that chickens can't fly. Uh-huh.
Houdini flies.
Houdini flies really, really well. Clipped wings or no.
I learned this when I tried to shoo this silly chicken down off the arbor and back onto the ground where any self-respecting chicken ought to be. Houdini responded by cackling with glee as she FLEW about 30 yards to the back fence. Flying like a real freakin' bird with fancy gliding and everything. Now since Houdini was new to us and didn't know where she lived as yet, I could see disaster looming large on the horizon. I got over to the fence as quick as I could and tried to shoo her back into OUR yard. I SWEAR she laughed as she went over the fence into the neighbor's yard. Now this yard is a regular jungle of overgrown plants, bushes and trees, complete with a shed full of junk that overflows into the yard with more piles of junk just for fun all over the place. The people who live there use the place as a weekend party house and are rarely home.
Needless to say getting Houdini back was going to be a nightmare.
So, J. dutifully climbs the fence and spends the next 30 minutes chasing around a wild chicken who is convinced that he means to eat her. When he finally catches her we are seriously considering it. After another wing clipping, this time so short that she could join the Marines, she is returned to our yard and behaves herself the rest of the day until it's time to go out and feed everyone.
A quick beak count comes up one short...Houdini. With heavy sighs and sinking hearts we begin to search. Right about that time our neighbor to one side of us sticks their head over the fence and asks if we are missing a chicken. Yup, there is Houdini, exploring ANOTHER yard. J. again jumps the fence and gives chase. I stand in our yard listening and ready to receive Houdini when J. hands her back. Instead I hear him yell, "No--no---NO!!" accompianed by a wild cackle. Houdini has jumped the wrong fence and gone into ANOTHER yard.
This one has a Cocker Spaniel in it. A bird dog.
Hilarity ensues as J. leaps the fence like an Olympic hurdler and gives chase to a screaming chicken and a yelping dog. I can only stand helplessly and listen as it sounds like all three are killing each other. Quiet falls. I hear J. coming back over the fence and see that he is carrying Houdini's body. Much to my surprise, she is alive. Not only that, she is unhurt. J. tells me that he caught up with the dog/chicken combo just in time and you never saw a more confused Cocker Spaniel whom I'm sure was terrified by having strange chickens and humans drop screaming from the sky into his little world.
Well, we can't clip Houdini's wings any more but we CAN keep her in the coop for a few days to help her learn that she lives HERE now, so that's what we do. This works for about three days until one morning Houdini slips past J. as he is letting the others out of the coop. This seems OK though since she seems to have learned her lesson and meekly stays in the yard for the next few days.
Until Saturday.
On Saturday we again hear an uproar and look out just in time to see Houdini sitting gleefully on the back fence, looking smugly back over her shoulder at us. She sits there just long enough to make sure that we've seen her and then leaps down into the junk jungle.
This time no amount of chasing can catch her and she leaps the fence into another yard and dissapears. While we don't want to lose her and there are certainly more than a few things running around at night that would love a chicken dinner, we have to give up for the time being. Our only hope is that she'll get hungry and come home. The rest of the day we spot her here and there. At one point she spent two hours up on the tallest point of the neighbor's roof, walking around next to their air conditioner. We make a few "lost chicken" signs and post them on the next street hoping that someone will call.
On Sunday we get a call, the neighbors say Houdini is in their yard. J. goes over armed with a blanket and after more blood-curdling screams and more than a little cussing, finally returns home triumphantly carrying Houdini wrapped inside it. I help J. mop up the blood on his arms where he plunged them into the Bouganvilla bush that Houdini was hiding in. She seems quieter and more docile now, apparantly she just wanted to see the world a bit.
Ever since then Houdini has stayed in the yard and been a very nice little hen. She doesn't even jump up on the patio furniture and stays sensibly on the ground like a good little hen.
Until she went broody.
One day there was again an alarm call, this time raised by the flock's Head Hen, a wise old Silver Laced Wyandotte. She has one call that she ONLY makes when something is wrong with one of the flock. Today she was making it, loudly, in the middle of the yard. A quick search revealed that Houdini was again missing, and there was nothing to do but wait and see if she would reappear. She did about an hour later, and we figured that she had simply gone exploring. Unfortunately she did it twice more that same week. We realized that what she was doing was going off to lay eggs in one of the neighbor's yards in secret, and when she had a clutch she would vanish for good to go and sit on them. Now even if she did survive nightime predators for 21 days while sitting on the nest, once the chicks hatched there would be no way for them to follow her back to our yard for food and shelter and they would die.
After a few days Houdini reappeared and this time had surely gone broody. She stomped around all fluffed up and in a bad mood, clucking angrily and pecking any flockmate who got near her. J. lost no time in chasing her down and grabbing her indelicately. Houdini was tossed into the coop, this time to stay until she gave up the idea of nesting away somewhere.
Instead she has finally come to her senses and gone broody in one of the nest boxes in the coop. Hurrah! As a reward for not making us crazy and bound through other people's yards we have given her three eggs to hatch.
Peace once again...for however long it will last this time...
Goodbye, Mrs. Black
March 5, 2004
Mrs. Black died today.
Peacefully, it seems, and of natural causes. But still a shock for her to turn up missing at nightfall when it was time to close up the coop and say goodnight to our little backyard flock of pet chickens.
A quick search of the garage, where a few months back she had managed to hide and gave us a scare, produced nothing. We found her curled up underneath my daughter's backyard climbing-castle-thing; one of those plastic, brightly colored things that kids love these days. Mrs. Black had no marks on her and seems to have slipped her earthly bounds quickly and quietly with no fuss.
Mrs. Black was a Chicken Hell feed store rescue and had health problems from the start, along with having almost no feathers on her skinny little body. One eye was swollen shut and weeping fluid and she wheezed something awful. Seeing her in that horrible place I hadn't expected her to last long, but couldn't stand to walk away and leave her there. We bought her and brought her home after a trip to the vet for medication. She spent two months inside the house getting well, fattening up and growing feathers. Her eye, which I had doubted was even still there, healed up and turned out fine. She got her name from my then 2 year old daughter, who walked by her one day and said, "Oh...hello Mrs. Black!" Mrs. Black had a quiet dignity and could stand next to you for several minutes before you realized she was there.
We will miss her sweet nature, wall-eyed stare and her raspy-voiced burblings. Just this afternoon she had come running with the rest when I passed out a handful of strawberries and all was right with the world. Just yesterday I stopped on the back porch to give her a quick pet.
I know some people will read this and think, "It was just a chicken!" What most people don't know is how personable, smart and cheerful chickens are and what terrific pets they make.
Tomorrow we will bury her in a bed of cut flowers, under the bay tree by the back fence.
Goodbye Mrs. B.
An Introduction
March 2004
I'm a wife and mom to one daughter, and our suburban home plays host to various pets...some of which people may think strange to consider 'pets'.
For instance the 35 year old tortoise named Geraldine, currently hibernating on the floor of the kitchen pantry. I'll know when it's time to take her outside again when she starts knocking over the spaghetti. Ah, Spring! With my luck that'll be at 3AM and I'll assume it's a hungry prowler.
Another strange aspect of our pets is the flock of chickens in the back yard, who routinely march in any door open for more than 3 seconds and then tour the house looking for food items dropped by my 4 year old daughter. One of the hens made sure she was remembered this year by sneaking up on one of my sisters and knocking a plateful of birthday cake out of her hands and onto the bird's feathers. Pink icing! No surprise then, that that particular hen's name is 'Bear'. I was going to name her that or 'Obstacle'. You get the picture. What Bear REALLY wants to do is become Queen of the House Chickens and live inside all of the time. Usually she decides she wants this right after a dust bath when her feathers are loaded with dirt. For those who don't know, sooner or later a chicken will remember that their feathers are loaded with 40 pounds of dirt and they will shake themselves like a wet dog. Hilarity (and some swearing) ensues as clouds of dust fill the air and small sticks and stones ricochet off of the cabinetry. Watching chickens is better than watching TV!
The gravel was still wet, for crying out loud!
While we were making the new chicken run, we set our tools on top of the rabbit hutch to keep them out of the kid's reach. The banties (once again) decided that the wooden top of a rabbit hutch, out in the open, in a bunch of zip ties was PERFECTION ITSELF.
Under my desk. She did manage to pull over a file folder and scatter it's contents, but that was easily picked up later on.
After several long minutes of this nonsense, including loud, repeated requests to be allowed in the house to lay the egg there (NO thank you, I fell for THAT one before), she finally settles on the same spot she always lays her eggs. It's when she gets quiet that she's actually laying the egg, followed by another round of explosive, joyful cackling which all the other hens take up, too. A hen will lay an average of 6 eggs a week, or an egg every other day. Say you've got 10 hens. Each one cackles for herself AND all the others for every freakin' egg. Now you know why farmers drive tractors. It's so they can get a few minutes of QUIET. 
Here's the other new one--a young Polish hen, so hungry for attention that she runs up to us and jumps in our lap, or pecks your shoes to get you to pick her up. This behaviour led to the people at the feed store labeling her as not only a rooster, but 'mean' as well. This bird was obviously someone's lap pet before she came to us and doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Also with that huge poof of feathers on her head, she can't see worth a darn. 
Mrs. Black died today.