Wasting as Little As Possible

Wasting food is an affront to me. Oh, we're not perfect, not by a long shot, but we do try.

Fortunately, chickens will eat just about anything. In fact, they're like goats with wings. Although, they fly only slightly better than goats.

Just because they will eat just about anything, doesn't mean they should. The mainstay of my flock's diet is organic layer feed. However, I give them breakfast every morning. It is a mix of oatmeal, vegetables (usually corn or peas), salad greens, and a banana ... they LOVE the banana part. The peel is given over to our pet pig Ruby. She loves bananas too, but too many treats for an indoor pig makes an overweight pig (yes, that's a thing). The peel is good for her. It acts as a banana flavored toothbrush. We haven't thrown out a banana peel in years.

When herself and I have left overs, the flock gets the choicest bits. Anything that is not overly sweet or overly salty. They'll happily peck at steak bones with bits of meat, gristle, and fat on them and the extra protein is good for them. Leftover vegetables are given over entirely and offers them more variety than they usually get. Leftover Chinese food is okay ... they get the larger portion of the leftover white rice and carefully measured portions of the rest (the rest is too salty to give them in one go). Junk food is right OUT. So, the healthier WE eat, the healthier THEY eat, and the healthier the eggs are that they lay. Leftover spicy food is actually GOOD for them, especially in late fall/early winter. It helps metabolize them to the cold weather, but too much too often can affect the taste of the eggs!

What's been missing this past week is forage. Herself and I have been doing a 'decade' clean out and have had a dumpster here for the week. The flock would be too curious and I can't have them pecking around the junk in the dumpster!

In order of health:
Their regular layer feed
Forage (too lacking so far this season!)
Well chosen treats
Well chosen leftovers

Dumpsters, potato chips, jolly ranchers, and the like are RIGHT OUT!

Coq Au, like a good rooster, will coo and call the girls over to treats, but if I throw down a little fed into the yard along with it, he will try to attract their attention to the feed over the other treats. HE knows what good food is and he wants the girls to know too. As much of a douche bag as he is to me, he's damn good at his job.

Well ... so they eat well and less food than ever goes into the trash.

Update on the cats: we're a week into our new resident Tulip being here. So far there is armed peace. Some hissing, but almost no heated political discussions.
Pictured are Tulip (left) and Osha (right) peacefully enjoying a "live kitty TV" program called "What will the birds do next and how good would they taste?"

ALSO Not My Cat.

A momentary lapse in chicken narrative.

 Sunday I made mention that herself and I were helping kinfolk move. Although the move was successful and not traumatic and under good circumstances, their cat could not go along. Rather than adopting out the cat to strangers, herself and I have taken the cat in hopes that one day, the cat could be recovered, but IF NOT, we know she has a safe, loving home with us.

I am a 'cat' person. I love dogs too. Actually, I love all manner of critters great and small, but I am a 'cat' person. I understand cats on a professional level. Most of all, I understand that no matter how much you love your cat, no matter how much you *think* your cat loves you ... I know I my heart of hearts that if it were big enough, it would kill you in your sleep.

By their very nature, cats are douche bags. Perhaps that is why I love and understand them so much.

So, Moonkie and Osha, who through years of tribulation had come to an understanding of armed neutrality with one another, now have to share their space with yet another cat.

Tulip has a sweet innocent plaintive, sometimes mournful, little meow. And it is a lie! She is a loving cat to be sure, but knows damn well how to use that sweet little meow for manipulation. My wife and I feared that poor sweet little Tulip would be beset upon by two angry beasties, but as it turns out, she can stand her ground just fine. She can lay down the new law just fine.

Well, it isn't as bad as all that. There are some political discussions involving a bit of hissing and occasional growl and only a warning swat or two. Mostly, they all understand the new way of things and everyone retreats bravely to neutral areas before things get too intense. It has been a few days and things are smoothing out nicely, if slowly.

We were hoping that Tulip and Ruby (our pig) might become fast friends considering their natures and the political structure between the other cats, but as it turns out, Ruby could give a fig about the whole affair. I suspect Osha, by her curious and friendly attitude, will be the first to break ranks and welcome the new addition when the time is right. "Cat time" could be a few days, or a few months. Not often anything in between, but so long as everyone is healthy, happy, getting food, and getting rest, the politics will sort themselves out in the fullness of time.

As a side note, Osha likes to perch by the open kitchen window. Whether it be a lovers' quarrel between her and her beau (still Not My Cat) or a round of "Live kitty TV" when the birds are out, that sill is hers. Moonkie will bully her out of the window from time to time just because she can, but when Tulip tried it this morning, wee Osha stood her ground and said emphatically "Aw, HELL naw!" And Tulip slinked away to leave Osha to her own pleasure. Moonkie merely stared in a nonplussed sort of way.

Chicken Lovers from Around The World

I haven't disappeared ... but have been EXTREMELY busy helping kinfolk move. Never the less, I managed to get the flock out for a bit and they DIDN'T go near the neighbors' bush (good girls).

Nothing new to report this week, so I thought I would repost the GROWING LIST of countries that have stopped by my humble blog. I am listing the United States first because that is where I am and where the vast majority of my readers are from.

I would VERY MUCH LOVE to hear from my friends from other countries who have stopped by! Leave a comment! I'd love to hear from you!

Also, if anyone would like to leave a photo of your chickens (if you have any) I'd love to see them!

I am so grateful for all of the nice people who take the time to read my humble little narrative about my backyard flock. Nothing I do with my flock will change the world, but it changes MY world and it changes my flock's world. Glad to know some people are enjoying it!

Sincerely, thank you!

United States
Algeria
Aruba
Australia
Bahrain
Bangladesh
Bolivia
Brazil
Cambodia
Canada
Cayman Islands
China
Colombia
Dominican Republic
Ecuador
Estonia
Finland
France
Germany
India
Indonesia
Ireland
Israel
Italy
Japan
Luxembourg
Macau
Malaysia
Mexico
Mongolia
Netherlands
New Zealand
Norway
Pakistan
Peru
Philippines
Poland
Romania
Russia
Rwanda
Singapore
Sint Maarten
Slovenia
Spain
Sweden
Taiwan
Thailand
Ukraine
United Arab Emirates
United Kingdom
Venezuela

 

Nobody Can Eat 50 Eggs.

"Nobody can eat fifty eggs."

Us old folks remember that line. For the 'benefit' of any young folks reading the blog, the movie is Cool Hand Luke. Paul Newman makes a bet that he can eat fifty hardboiled eggs in an hour. When he proclaims this, his costar George Kennedy exclaims with quiet astonishment "Nobody can eat fifty eggs."
So why the trip down cinematographic memory lane? Because I have fifty eggs in my refrigerator.

Fifty eggs.

I eat an egg a day. Often a stir an egg into the flocks morning oatmeal. Herself and I enjoy a Sunday breakfast usually cooked by yours truly of about five or so eggs.

And yet ... fifty eggs.

Happy chickens make happy (and numerous) eggs and this recent glut is from just eight laying hens. Two of them are not even an egg laying breed. The other six are way past prime at four years old. I'm starting to suspect that even Coq Au is laying.

Apart from that, yesterday's brilliant weather had the flock out in the yard enjoying life.

Here are a few of them visiting the dentist. That is to say they are (likely) refreshing their gizzards with new small pebbles for grinding up their food.

Here are a couple of the girls laying out for a nice sunny dirt bath. Please to note that they are NOT under the neighbor's bush for a change!

The spring flowers and shoots are growing, and just in time for the flock to eat them. Oh well, I'm enjoying spring in my way and they are enjoying it in their way!

Only Takes A Few Minutes

Today the flock is out. The yard is still in 'winter' condition, minus the snow. But a diligent hen will still scratch and find some early wild shoots.

Upon letting them out, Coq Au squared off with me briefly as my shadow loomed large over them.

"Coq Au ... it's me. Do you want to do this?"

"Alright ... I'll let you slide. THIS time. But I've got my eye on you!"

This is the perfect time to feed and water the flock. It only takes a few minutes to collect the water font, the feeder, wash these out and refresh. It only takes a few minutes for Lily to follow me around all by herself as I putter about with these tasks.

It only takes a few minutes to stop and give her special treats just for her own self.

It only takes a few minutes for the entire rest of the flock to wander under the neighbor's bush. Again. Dozens of great scratching spots in our own yard, dozens of good dust bathing spots in our own yard, yet they do what they can to vex me. If she weren't otherwise semisweet and innocent, I might even suspect that they sent Lily as a distraction.

Anyway, they didn't have a chance to settle in, so chasing them out from under the bush went smoothly.

Here they are back in our own yard, and Coq Au is sounding his contempt.

 

Bonus Post: Everyone's Chickens are Douche Bags



On my social media, my friends tag me in all manner of chicken related content.

This morning, a friend of mine posted a whole series of memes that GO DEEP for those of us that know the struggle!

Y'know those 'douche bag' memes! The ones where there is a photo of some douche bag with a douche bag caption? Then the SAME photo is endlessly repeated, same photo, new captions. Each relating a whole new level of douche baggery? Well, here is a series that really tells it like it is!



 

There are about 30 or 40 more of these that Lydia Holloway has posted to the FB group 'BYC' (back yard chickens)

You can check out the first photo and then scroll through the rest here:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=822909834574659&set=pcb.10156529722729734&type=3&theater

I assure you that I have PERSONALLY EXPERIENCED most of these!

Kudos to Ms. Holloway. She truly understands the mind of a chicken!

Four Years!

Today marks exactly four years since we brought home eight baby chicks!

Their actual birthday was April 4th, 2014, but today marks the day our little flock became ... well ... ours!

Only seven left of the original eight (sad to say), but with the addition a couple of years ago of Lily and Petunia, the flock numbering nine is as vibrant as ever.

Coq Au has matured from a baby chick to a sex-crazed teen, to now a mature grumpy middle-aged man. He and I are alike in such ways.

Past their laying prime, now. But the girls are still laying strong and even the two younger girls are laying better than Jersey Giants are supposed to.

Another spring ahead, another summer to follow, and if the gods be good, we'll still have several more years with our original team.

If you ask me today if knowing what I know now, would I still have gotten backyard chickens those four years ago, my answer would be a resounding and enthusiastic YES!

A Day In The Sun.

After my morning errands yesterday it was a delight to let the flock out on a bright and sunny spring day!

Oh how they roamed, scratched, and visited their favorite haunts hither and fore!

Without a care in the world I left them to their own devices as they ranged about looking for spring shoots, early bugs, and their favorite dust bathing spots.

All was well. Until ...

Late in the afternoon found them dug in deep under and about the neighbor's bush. They already scratched up the earth to a degree that would be unleashing to me if I were in my neighbor's position. Although my neighbors are incredibly patient and indulgent, I rushed to action with rake in hand.

Coq Au and a few of the hens were lazily milling about, but several of the hens were flattened out deep into the new dirt holes they had dug in the soft spring earth.

"You have a million sunny places to do this in OUR OWN YARD!" I chided.

My pleas were met with blank stares of indignant indifference.

"Okay, everybody OUT!"

I gently waved the rake and nudged some of the lounging poultry. Most of them reluctantly stood up, shook off the dirt, and began to collect under our mulberry tree. Hermione dug her talons in where she lay determined NOT to have her beauty treatment interrupted.

"Oh no! You ain't 'special'!"

Continuing to ignore my complaints AND even the gentle nudging of the rake I had to physically grasp her and PULL her up from her dirt bath. Defiantly she gave me an icy look and took deliberately slow steps to join the collective.

With the flock more or less together I began to herd them toward the run. Normally a few waves of the rake overhead is enough to send them trotting to the right direction but today they stood fast. The whole affair required more nudging and prodding. Coq Au gave serious thought to challenging me as he hung back and began to posture but his second mind thought better of it.

I hated to put them in earlier than intended, but they enjoyed several good hours of range time, it was already late afternoon to early evening, and I couldn't trust them not to return to the neighbor's bush.

Oh well ladies, better luck next time.

Hopefully we can try again today.

Happy Easter, Happy Passover, happy spring folks!