That Great Scratching Ground in the Sky

On November 18th of last year I lost my Bella.  She was found in the upper yard where she liked to venture.  I do not know what happened.  There were no indications of a fight so I'm not sure if it was natural causes or a heart attack from being frightened.  It is always difficult to lose a pet especially a fluffy waddling happy and beautiful seven month old crazy chicken.  Her absence was felt.  Not too long after losing my Americauna, the house for sale next door to my parents sold and new neighbors moved in bringing along with them three labs and a black cat.  On the first day of their arrival one of the dogs escaped his yard and jumped into our yard while Raquel and Stanley were free ranging.  No one was out in the yard to offer protection and try as Stanley might he was not able to protect his one and only hen.  Needless to say, he was traumatized, lost his tail feathers and did not come out of the coop for days.  He lost weight and I thought I was to lose him also. If anyone were to say these animals do not have feelings I would argue the point to my own grave.  Both Raquel and Bella were buried under the pine grove where many days they had spent searching for a tasty morsel.  And now I hope they are together scratching up that big patch of ground in the sky.  Thank you both for the delicious eggs and the many hours of delight.  I adored you and I miss you silly girls.

Ta da!

You would think that I laid the eggs but lo and behold it was my Bella who  came through!  I was beyond excited.  It has been so satisfying to raise these chickens from tiny hatchlings to full grown laying hens.  And this is how it went...it had been quite a day!  The week prior my chickens had been bravely venturing further and further into the upper yard. I had been putting off clipping their wings because...well they're birds and I have this thought that I would be taking away the things that make them who they are.  I finally decided that their safety was more important (the upper yard is not completely fenced!). I easily picked up Bella and clipped back one side of her wing feathers, a little harder to get Raquel but eventually I succeeded.  Stanley (formerly Stella) was impossible.  He actually turned around and stood his ground while I was after him, ruffling his cape feathers out and even jumping in the air to try to kick at me.  As I look back, he must have been trying to protect Bella's space while she was looking for a place to lay her eggs.  Bella kept trying to hide in the bushes which was strange behavior for her as well.  I followed her and found that she had dug a nest in the pine needles under the mugo pine above their coop.  Right there were 4 beautiful blue eggs that she was going to sit on and as I kept watching her she started gathering leaves and more pine needles in around her.  I reached down below her and collected the treasure, ran in the house to share my discovery with the rest of the family (who have, by the way, been ready to give away or cook the birds for their lack of productivity).
It has been 5 months to the day since I picked them up from the farm store so they are right on schedule.  I couldn't believe that there were four perfectly shaped, beautifully colored hard-shelled eggs.  I wanted to preserve them.  I didn't know if I could actually eat them but that thought lasted only until breakfast.  THEN, I went back out to check on Bella and she was clucking excitedly and looking everywhere for her eggs.  I was sick in my stomach and near tears.  I wanted to put them back.  I wanted to watch them hatch but how could I hide any more little peeps from the city let alone my mother.  I would quit my job, go into chicken farming full time, sell eggs, sell chicks; the feathers could be used for fly tying, craft projects...ahhh the opportunities were endless.  As I stood there with all of this running through my head, Bella headed back under the bushes.  Again I followed her and again she layed another egg.  After this one she took off ready to gorge herself on green grass and bugs after all her hard work.  Not another thought was given to the lain eggs.  Hallelujah!  I gathered up the last one and headed for the house feeling proud of my chicken and myself.

My Stella is a Stanley

Well this explains alot...the aggressive personality, the hen pecking, and the avoidance of any human affection!  It has been quite some time since last I blogged but life has been busy and exciting over the summer.  There has been wine walks at the store to prepare for, farmer's markets to attend and a garden that requires tending. The days have started earlier and earlier and ended later and later.  I have gotten into a routine with my chickens.  I get up and go outside to let them out of the coop for some early morning exercise, grass nibbling and bug or worm scratching.  Stella is the first to haul tail feathers out of the coop followed by the other two chickens.  Then the romp begins with Stella flying at the other two hens raising her feathers and either pecking at them or trying to jump on them with her feet.  They seem to hold their own though by either ignoring her or fluffing their neck feathers and standing their ground.  I'm becoming very fond of their coos and clucks.  Raquel sounds like a muffled trumpet and I have picked up her do-di-do-di-doo which I annoyingly sing at work when I'm happy.  But Stella has been trying to make sounds deep in her throat which I just attributed to her crazy (could someone have dropped her on her head?) personality!  Well lo and behold the next morning I hear a throaty hoarse "rock-a-doodle-doo" which progressively gets louder and louder.  I am in shock and this is not because I'm hearing this all before my alarm clock goes off...about an hour before my alarm goes off!  I have hens. I grab my robe and run outside.  No sound-nothing.  I let the chickens out, they follow their usual routine and I go back in the house thinking it was all a dream.  Then "rock-a-doodle-doo" and I run out again staring at my Stella who was all along a "Stanley".  We are not allowed a rooster in the city limits so I'm hoping she (he-this will take some time getting used to!)will limit his crowing and maybe our neighbors will grow fond of the sound as I have.  

The Pecking Order

Now that the chickens are happily established in their new home and feeling safe, they are beginning to show the traits of their personalities even more.  Stella, the bad girl of the bunch, runs at Bella, the quiet unassuming sweetheart of the three. Stella puffs up her feathers, lengthens her already long neck, and stares Bella down with her beady little eyes.  Stella has begun jumping at or over Bella pouncing on her with those big leathery feet. I chase that bad girl away and give her hell, wagging my finger at her as she runs away from my scolding. Bella usually just walks away but lately she has been standing up for herself, likewise puffing out her feathers and squawking back at Stella which seems to back her down.  Stella doesn't try this with Raquel, perhaps because she is the biggest of my mini flock.  This all surprises me because anytime some sound or movement alarms the chickens, Stella is the one who runs and hides behind the other two.  When they go up to their roost at night, Stella crawls in and over the other two completely hiding herself as the other two keep watch for the night.  Chicken!

Moving Day

Bella & Stella

Raquel

It was the topsy-turvy event the chickens had with my Dad and the fact I was cleaning their box out nearly twice a day that determined it was time to move the foul fowl out to larger quarters.  The lovely red-painted triangular coop had been set up on sandy ground in the backyard, edged in bricks (so no predators could dig underneath) and covered with a fresh bed of pine shavings and straw.  A stone path led to the door, a small solar-powered light had been staked into the ground nearby (a chicken night lite?) and an overturned metal milk crate left out so I could sit nearby to keep them company; the only things missing...Stella, Bella and Raquel!  I carefully carried their box out from the house placing it by the door to their new home.  One by one I lifted my chickies out of their tiny confines into their roomy new digs and quickly shut the door.  Peeping and squawking they spread their wings, ran then flew from one end of the coop to the other checking out their open space.  The girls (mostly led by Stella) chased each other in circles around the ramp that led to the roosting space but did not venture up to the new height.  I set them up with their water and food then sat down to watch them play.  After an hour or two...maybe three of being mesmerized by their hysterical antics I decided I had to get something else done!  It was hard to leave them outside by themselves.  These were my babies and this felt a little like taking my now adult children to their first day of Kindergarten. They were growing up. I hated to admit it but I think moving day was harder on me than the chickens.

My Peeps' New Crib

My little chickies are...no longer little.  They are growing feathers and trying to use them.  If, like dogs, they grow into their "paws" then I am in trouble!   I came home another night after work to find blocks of wood in their container, a veritable obstacle course!  "What are these?", I asked.  "They were fighting over the water bottle (not for water) for Queen of the Roost.", my mother explained.  So she gave them each a roost and they were very happy...for a couple of days.  The higher they got to the rim of the container the more they could see a world that they had not yet explored or pooped on!  The incident with my father (see my last blog) reminded me that I had to get busy on their coop.  So, piece by piece I took the prefab coop I had ordered to the lower yard where it would be in a protected area both from wind and sun.  Existing gravel had been spread out, bricks laid down for an outside foundation, a stone path created leading to the chickies' new address so now to put their home together.  The landscape architect who designed this coop told me that it was as easy as something from Ikea.  OK...I've never put together anything from Ikea but I've been in the store and their designs looked simple enough.  How hard could it be?  I had good directions, all parts were accounted for, I grabbed my screwdriver and with enthusiasm got started. Two hours, two blisters and two connected walls later, my mom offered that they did own a battery-operated screwdriver if I wanted to use it !!!  Seriously?  Seriously?  To be continued....

Earthquake...Tsunami....Tornado ?

Today when I walked into the house after work, I did not see my father in his usual spot, a comfy leather chair which he occupies for a good part of the day while recovering from his stroke. As I ventured into the kitchen there was my father on the floor watching TV!  It took me about 15 seconds to assess the situation.  My mother has a contemporary Danish kitchen table with three-legged chairs that are very tipsy.  Obviously my father had dozed off  and fallen off his chair.  I guessed that he couldn't get up so was waiting for someone to discover him.  However, on his way down he must have grabbed for anything to stabilize him...which happened to be the chicken container.  Everything that was in their home had shifted to one end creating a kind of cascade of food dish, water trough, and pine shavings. Their screening had been dislodged and here were Bella, Stella and Raquel at the top of the disheveled heap staring down at my father covered in pine shavings and ...well you know what is in pine shavings!  The momentary scene that ran through my mind at this point were three chickens running all over the house and me trying to catch them before my mom brought out her cleaver ready to serve them up for that night's dinner and my poor dad watching all this while still sitting on the floor.  I was somewhere between panic and bursting out laughing.  The sight was something to behold.  Before my vision became reality I grabbed the screening, threw it over their container while feathers flew and told my Dad to stay put. (Where was he going?!) I had no idea where my mom was...it was dark in the basement so not on her computer, outside then.  I rushed to the backyard and yelled for her.  It took both of us to pick him up, brush off the pine shavings and settle him into his chair.  My dad was fine, just a little shaken.  The poor chickens on the other hand did not know what hit them.  I eventually got their home back in order, fed them and watered them but did not hear a peep out of them.  I looked over the edge of their container and there were Bella, Stella and Raquel hunkered down into their pine shavings with their heads tucked under their wings sound asleep.  It was time to finish the coop!