Ungrateful Sin of a Bitch!

Ungrateful Son of a Bitch!

Just got home from work, brought some dinner out to the chickens, and Coq Au came after me (not so unusual).

I gave him a glancing kick and he retreated under the coop. Fine!

While I was checking for eggs in the nesting boxes, that son of a bitch emerged from underneath launching a sneak attack.

He connected with me good, so I let loose a volley of kicks and sent him reeling around the chicken run. He seemed satisfied that he had his ass kicked enough and retreated. I gathered the eggs and eyeballed him long enough to see he wasn't injured and stormed out.

Here's a spot of blood on my jeans.

 

I thought "It better be that bastard's blood!"

 

Lifted up my jeans, he didn't break through the jeans ... but here is the wee gash on my leg (after washing the trickle of blood and applying a spot of iodine).

 

 

Next time he wants a go around, it is ON!!!

Lean On Me.

Lean On Me.

Petunia and Lily were getting enough to eat and foraging on their own as much as I could allow them to be out of the safety of their run. Coq Au Vin was as good as his word. He made sure no one picked on them to the point of blood, but neither did he love them. They were outsiders in the midst of a small town mentality and had no place except ‘out of the way.’ Petunia continued to keep an eye on her smaller sister and would still brave the scorn of the flock to obtain treats, then they would be off on their own to a different part of the yard for their forage.

Then a strange thing began to happen. Slowly at first, but with increasing frequency.

Mildred seemed to have long forgotten that Floki had been her son. Even when he was alive. Chickens get to an age where they don’t recognize ‘kin’, they only recognize ‘pecking order’. Yet, Mildred had still palled around with her son quite a bit into his young adulthood and I’m sure that now he was gone, she missed him on some level. With no broodiness on the horizon (probably because of the unease caused by all of the social shake ups) Mildred began to keep her company with the two smaller girls.

Amazingly, perhaps born out of her innate nurturing nature, she would move over to their area, away from the safety of the flock, and forage with them. Just on occasion at first, then just about every day. She was showing them how to ‘chicken’ the ‘correct’ way … the ‘flock of our house’ way. They were almost adults now themselves, so she didn’t have to show them how to scratch, but she would show them where to scratch. She would show them where the best plants and bugs were likely to be in our small patch of paradise.

After this pattern established itself, the new formed trio began to forage closer to Hortense. Now, Hortense, as I’ve said, is not at the bottom of the pecking order. Nor is she at the top. She isn’t picked on and seems to be an odd fish who is outside of the politics of the flock entirely. No one minds if she’s around and no one minds if she isn’t. She … however … likes her alone time. She likes being by herself when foraging and likes staying out of the coop at night just a little later than the other hens.

Perhaps it was about safety in numbers for our developing little sub flock, or perhaps it was a calculated plan on the part of Mildred, but she began leading the younger girls closer to Hortense on a daily basis. Hortense, normally pretty aloof, didn’t seem to mind at all.

So, as that summer progressed into fall, the younger girls and their two adoptive aunts ate together, dust bathed together, and chatted about all matters under the sun.

Eventually, the flock accepted them. They were now at the bottom and still chased away from treats, still bullied a little, but by and large, they weren’t so in-the-way.

By the time they started laying, they were laying like champs! Jersey Giants are not known for laying well, but Lily and Petunia do just fine. Their eggs are smaller, yet just as delicious as any of the larger eggs from our tribe of Australorps.

After a winter, where close quarters in the coop are more the norm due to inclement weather and shorter days, everyone had to get used to each other and sort out their differences.  By now they are full members of the flock with their own standing. In fact, you’d have to look very closely to tell who is who between our two Jersey Giants and our Aussies!

And peace once again reigned over the flock. Coq Au and I did continue to battle, but with a familiar pattern that is strangely comforting.

The Curse of the Blue Poo.

The Curse of the Blue Poo.

Every season my ancient mulberry tree bears fruit. I can not tell you how happy I am to have an abundance of fresh berries right in my backyard. They are good to put on your cereal, stir into some yogurt, dress up your pancake batter or what have you.

There are far too many on this old tree for my wife and I to eat. Our neighbor comes and picks her fill as well, and I am sure the squirrels get a share. We don't pick up the ones from the ground, however. Those belong to the flock.

Here they are enjoying the first day that some of the ripe berries have begun to fall.

And thus begins the curse of the blue poo! For three days they will gorge themselves on mulberries. And oh how the poo turns a dark blue.

For three days after that they will lazily eat more mulberries while out foraging and scratching for bugs.

After that, they won't touch a mulberry, even if offered from my own hand, until next year and finally, the curse of the blue poo passes for another year.

And thus, we mark the changing of the seasons.

THESE Chickens are DIFFERENT!

THESE chickens are DIFFERENT!

Being the new kid in school is hard. You have to make new friends, fit in, dodge the bullies, and try to make your way into a whole new world. It is even harder when all of the other kids are older and bigger than you!

Integrating new birds in your flock can be traumatic for the newbies and the rest of the flock alike. New additions to the social structure causes the pecking order to go haywire and hens can even stop laying for a time. Size can be everything and larger, more established birds will bully younger smaller birds in most cases. Our human eyes know that in OUR world, this is grossly unfair, but chickens have their own rules. If you can’t stand up, then there isn’t much you’ll be able to contribute to the flock. Chicks have a mother to protect them and a good rooster or good ‘aunts’ will also protect the newborns from bullies. If this is not the case in your flock, then you must separate those babies out until they are large enough to hold their own! New chickens without a flock member for a mother are strangers and strangers are to be met with suspicion!

So … my wife and I knew this … and so we made sure to get two pullets so they would at least have each other for company and, with a little time and patience, it worked!

The day we brought them home, we had them wait patiently in the car for a brief moment while we let the flock out of the run. Coq Au and the girls went about their business elsewhere and we brought Petunia and Lily into the coop. We shut the run door and hoped morning laying was over for the flock … if not, then oh well … the girls would just not be in their favorite nesting boxes for this one afternoon. Petunia and Lily hadn’t had much human contact and were used to a much larger group of their nest mates so naturally they were pretty frightened of us, the new environment, and the loss of safety in numbers. We put some treats in the coop for them, but left the door open in case they were inclined to explore.

What we feared was what would happen once the flock went back inside. The pullets were big enough to stand a normal amount of bullying, but any real attacking could be disastrous. We knew this experiment could turn out badly, but if we were ever going to integrate new birds into the flock, this would have to be the time to find out. Jersey Giants have a tendency to be docile and although Australorps can be sweet, they have a bit of a reputation for bullying other chickens in a mixed flock. We figured things would sort out and the Jersey Giants would end up growing larger than the Australorps, in time, and everything would be okay.

We kept the flock out until dusk and the pullets had not emerged from the coop once. Okay … deep breath … time to put the flock in to bed and see how it goes.

“What the shit is this???” Coq Au sneered at me early the next morning. “Just what were you thinking???”

“I can see you’re tense. Would you care to discuss the matter civilly?”

The babies spent the night huddled in a corner nesting box … not really that strange, they do that when they’re not quite old enough to roost yet. The hens were extra fussy that morning and small wonder, considering their living space became a little smaller what with the new invaders. I let them out of the coop into the run for morning treats and that’s when Coq Au, Matilda, and Hermione cornered me to issue their grievances, formal and informal. He didn’t look ‘angry’ tense like usual, he looked ‘stressed’ tense. I could tell there was too much on his mind to launch the usual attacks, so we needed a bit of a sit down, he and I.

The babies emerged nervously and were immediately chased into a corner of the run. They weren’t pursued or continuously picked on (whew!) but chased away from morning food and away from the general living space of the run. They took refuge under one of the old wooden chairs we leave in there for the flock to perch on.

I let the flock out into the yard, but Petunia and Lily elected to stay in the run. That was FINE by me … if they were to be chased away from the safety of the flock, I’d want them safe inside! I gave them their own treats to enjoy and the nervously emerged from under the chair to partake. Feed is available inside all day so at no point was I worried that anyone would be denied food.

After I emerged from the run, Coq Au approached me and started the conversation as I described above. He let it be known to me that this whole situation was grossly unfair to himself as our chief middle management in charge of flock safety and happiness.

I calmly explained to him “I know this is a hard thing I am asking, but it is ultimately for the better of the flock. Neither you nor the hens are getting any younger and …”

Coq Au: “HEY!”

Myself: “… and … it is about time you lot stopped being so insular and learned to get along with occasional outsiders.”

Coq Au: “But these chickens are DIFFERENT and NOT the same! We’re all the same and NOT different! They’re younger, smaller, not blood kin, and NOT the same, but DIFFERENT!”

Myself: “Look … I’m asking you to be ‘chummy’ … I’m only asking you to keep them safe. Your job. Keep the girls from picking on them too much. Make sure no blood is spilled. You of all people … err … excuse me … you of all CHICKENS should understand what that feels like!”

Coq Au: “Oh, sure … no problem … anything else, chief?!” (I could hear the sarcasm dripping off of him).

Myself: “Yes. Talk to the union. I need you to smooth this over with them.”

Coq Au: “Oh no! I’ll try to keep the peace, but you will NOT put me between you and the union! THAT you’ll have to sort out yourself!”

Myself: “Look, you’re on good terms with Hermione and Matilda, can’t you just …”

Coq Au: “NO, I can’t ‘just’! YOU try living with them!”

Myself: “Point taken. Okay, keep ‘em safe. I’ll talk to the union.”

This was the longest conversation Coq Au and I have ever had that didn’t result in kicks, scratches, and bruises. If he was willing to listen to me this directly, I knew the flock had to be in disarray over the whole issue!

So … since this concerned the entire union, I approached them as a group. Myrtle was content just to forage, Hortense couldn’t give a hang about the whole thing, so I had to talk to Matilda, Ermatrude, Hildegard, Mildred, and Hermione.

As expected, the biggest objections were from Hermione, the alpha female. Matilda, the union liaison also strongly objected to the new living conditions. Ermatrude was worried that the new babies might grow up prettier than her, and Hildegard was only concerned about coop space, but otherwise not overly against the new arrangement. Mildred was a bit of an ally, wanting to give the new girls a chance and pointing out that they were only babies after all.

For the better part of that day negotiations kept on and off … breaking for lunch and dust baths etc. Petunia and Lily were content to have the run mostly to themselves and have a little peace. By the end of it, I got the union to agree that there was to be no blood. I couldn’t get ‘full acceptance’ no matter what I did. No amount of mealworms would budge the stalwarts on this point. But, as long as there would be no blood, I was satisfied.

So, as the days passed, I saw how this played out. When they were to be staying in the run, Petunia and Lily hid under the chair, scurried away, and kept themselves out of the way of the older hens. When I threw down treats, I would try to throw some exclusively in their direction so that they would be able to partake as well … but, being that feed was always available … they were eating better than my lazy, greedy older hens anyway. They were NOT filling up on treats and getting the benefit from their balanced, nutritious (if boring) feed.

I also noticed this: when I would put down some special treats and the older hens would crowd around, Petunia would screw up the courage within her … take a running dive into the fray, and make off with a tasty morsel. No doubt she had been learning from her new ‘aunt’ Myrtle. The second wonderful thing to witness was that she would GIVE this morsel to her more timid sister Lily and make a SECOND strafing run to recover a treat for herself!

Outside the run they would venture out. If they came near the flock, a hen (especially Hermione) or even Coq Au would chase them away. I was sad to see Coq Au doing this, but I also witnessed him intervene if any of the hens went AFTER the babies. My concern was that although keeping them safe from the other hens, he was not watching them from the dangers of the world, but with a divided flock, he had to keep his eye on the bulk of them.

In the evening, the flock would go in, but I would have to round up Petunia and Lily and practically terrorize them into going into the run. They did reluctantly, and I could understand their reluctance. Never the less, in they needed to go. Better for them to face an unfriendly flock than a hungry coyote in the dead of the night.

So ... these were the days of the summer of 2016. But each day Petunia grew a little braver, Lily grew a little sweeter, and they both grew a little larger. Only time would tell if they would become full union members in good standing.

Do You Know Your Chickens Are Out?

Do You Know Your Chickens Are Out?

Been hearing this a lot lately this season. It's a small property on a third of an acre and a corner lot. So, when I let them out into the yard foraging they will sometimes forage close to the road.

By and large, they stay ON the property except for occasionally drifting to the neighbor's bush ... even though upper management has told them repeatedly that this is NOT allowed, and middle management (Coq Au) only half heartedly enforces this rule, if at all.

It happens like this ... I'll be inside puttering around the kitchen or what have you, they will be outside near the road scratching and foraging, and I'll spy a car slow down and park by curb side. As a person emerges, I'll hail them from the open window and they'll say 'Do you know your chickens are out?'

Out of concern for their personal welfare, I'll immediately reply as they approach 'Stay away from that rooster!'

Occasionally, I'll feel a little frustrated that these people who are raised in suburbia and not used to seeing backyard chickens keep pestering me, but truth be told I am SO GRATEFUL that even strangers are looking out for the welfare of our flock! I thank them graciously and always offer a few fresh eggs. I am also pleasantly surprised tat some of them are genuinely interested in chickens and ask questions about keeping their own flock.

Well ... they don't wander into the road ... except ...

I spied them all waiting by the mail box. I can only figure they've ordered some mealworms from Amazon. I've cut the cable to the coop because they were staying up too late watching old movies, and now I am thinking of cutting their internet connection as well.

But what concerned me most was that girl in the road as you see in the picture! By the time I got to her she had fulfilled the age old prophesy of the chicken crossing the road ... right into the not-so-nice neighbor's yard! I reached her before the neighbor was even aware, chided the whole flock, reminded Coq Au that he's not doing his job, and decided that forage time was OVER for the day ... in the run the went.

To think that one of MY girls was walking the streets like a shameless hussy!

Your Patriotic Duty.

Your Patriotic Duty

According to this flyer from the US Dept. Of Agriculture (from 1918) ... it is your patriotic duty to raise chickens I your backyard!

 

May you all have a meaningful Memorial Day!

Bruce Lends a Hand.

Bruce Lends a Hand

Our flock was over two years old and our only chick was a rooster who just couldn’t cohabitate. With the two angry roosters wreaking chaos all across the social structure on the flock, it was small wonder that no one was inclined to try hatching eggs again! Herself and I had a passing thought about buying a couple of young hens … pullets, really … to refresh our flock with young life. We had just begun to consider breeds and sources when the trouble between the roosters had come to a head.

But right at that moment, Bruce reached out to me.

Do you remember our friend Bruce? He’s the gentleman from old farm stock with acreage but no livestock. He’s the gentleman to whom my wife and I suggested that he one day start his own flock and we’d be glad to help. He’s the gentleman who rescued the homeless chickens from the Bayonne area and lo and behold started his own flock in short order. With four roosters and four hens.

Before I carry on with our own tale, let’s check in with Bruce, shall we? This is based on memory of the things he told me back in 2015 when he had gotten his rescue chickens and how it played out. If anything is very far off the mark, hopefully he’ll stop by to correct the record.

By the way, Bruce is also an ace photographer and the following pictures are his handiwork of his own flock!

 

First, some politics of his own needed to be sorted out:

 

After the initial dust ups, I believe he told me that he culled one roo and managed to trade another for a couple of hens (would LOVE to know how he pulled that off!)

So his flock was now (as memory serves) six hens and two roos. Not perfect, but improved. And with a lot more land than us, his flock could roam more and stay out of each other’s way!

Then, by the spring of 2016 (about the same time we began having our issues) his hen Lacey gave birth to two baby barnyard mutts …

And aren’t they gorgeous!:

 

But that wasn’t all. He was enjoying his flock SO MUCH that he decided to order TWO DOZEN Jersey Giant chicks to raise … keeping some and selling some others.

Here they are out of the brood box and into the mini coop until sold and/or big enough to join his flock.

 

He offered us first dibs on any we wanted and we figured we’d very much like two. We chose two because we do have limited space, but only one would be lonely and have a hard time fitting in.

For those of you who are slightly less chicken obsessed than I, a word about ‘Jersey Giants’. They are a heritage breed developed right here in New Jersey in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s as a meat bird. They are the largest of the chicken breeds and it was thought that they would be a cheaper replacement for the turkey. Only it didn’t work out that way. Jersey Giants are impressive birds, but they are slow growers and reportedly not good layers. Being slow growers means that the feed to growth ratio is not economically viable and thus they are only popular with backyard chicken keepers rather than any viable industrial use. Never the less, they persist as a breed. We would not have chosen this breed on our own but we certainly wanted to encourage Bruce and we were also comforted by the fact that these birds had been raised in a great environment with a loving handler.

It did cause me to question him on his choice of breed, and true to his gentle nature, he calmly explained that he wanted to raise a more unique bird and show some New Jersey pride in the process.

Since his birds were still young, and since we were in the middle of our rooster crisis, we asked him to hold only our two until we had the issue sorted out and also to give them time to grow large enough to integrate into the flock more easily.

So, about a week after our issue had been sorted out, and the Jersey Giants now being about eight weeks old or more, June of 2016 brought our (hopefully) permanent new flock members Petunia and Lily-of-the-Valley (this is my picture, not Bruce’s … he takes much better pictures!)