Critters

Continued from:  Becoming a Chicken

This post is dedicated to the memory of our little Cobbie,

 

who lived his entire life with this expression on his face.

He was six years old when he died  -- a little old man.

We'll miss your little pink lips, Cobbie, your loving personality, and your chubby little obesity.

So again I wipe away a tear and move on... to the circus in my backyard.

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News alert!

Fern and Daisy are definitely girls. I just know they are. Look at these little figures --- how they hold their little tails high.  No doubt.  They're girls. Girls.

Fern and Daisy are inseparable.  They're like one four-legged chicken. 

 They come when I call, because I often have treats.  So now they consider me the most amazing human of all time, which is of course my plan.

Lil'White continues to terrorize the young'uns, 

but in the brutal heat of recent weeks, she has been just too hot to viciously pursue Fern and Daisy. 

She pants. She swoons. She drags her wings and carries on.

So Fern and Daisy get a break.

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Here's the current setup:  

With a 14 foot play-yard between the hens' coop and the babies' coop, there's a good amount of free space for them to be together during the day. Hawks circle overhead and foxes lurk in the woods, but as long as Marky's around, the girls are safe behind the flimsy fencing and bird netting.

Marky's been spending a lot of time milling about the coop lately, 

as he's discovered a dense city of mice and voles just beneath the surface.   Spilled chicken-feed has lured the little vermin... I can only imagine the size of their stash.   Their sounds and smells are driving Marky Mad.

To prevent spillage, you're supposed to raise the feed bin up to the level of the chickens' backs, 

which I did.

But shoveling food onto the ground is Pigeon's favorite thing to do, and raising the feeder was no deterrent.

So Mouse City continues to grow, well-nourished. 

And Marky continues to spend his summer days standing in the coop, staring at the ground.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

Okay. 
  

After three years and 1,800 eggs, here's a first:

Somebody laid an egg the size of a grape.

And I think I know who did it.

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Next post:   

THE MYSTERY OF THE TEENY EGGS

BECOMING A CHICKEN

continued from previous post: The Same Only Different


Ahhh - hot summer days - 

The ladies recently helped me add a back room to their coop.  I got creative and made it with bits and pieces of wood and fencing that I already had, so it technically cost me nothing. -- which technically makes up for the cost of the original coop, which technically cost quite a bit.

Now that their coop is twice as big, do you think they'd enjoy it more?  

No.

They still hurl themselves indignantly against the door every time I pass by, expecting me to come let them out of their prison.

They do get plenty of free-range time.

When I let the girls out, Lil'White heads straight to the garden to hunt for her favorite treats: 

plastic vegetable tags.  

If she could swallow them whole, she would.

On these hot days, Lucy heads for the densest shade to lie down.

I have to listen very carefully to find her.

Fern and Daisy aren't big enough yet to wander the yard.

But a few days ago, they had their first supervised playdate with the big gals.

There is no tried-and-true method for introducing new chicks to a flock.

My method:  I rolled out some fencing, put everyone together, and sat on a stool in the center of things.

It all began pleasantly.

But things soured quickly.

Lil'White attacked, babies screamed... it was ugly there for a minute.

I scooped the babies away from Lil'White and let them chill out in the corner.

Just when they were beginning to calm down, 

along came Pigeon, the queen bee.

I felt sorry for the little ones, but knew they'd have to learn to protect themselves eventually, so I waited and watched as Pigeon sauntered slowly in their direction.

Little Fern and Daisy cowered in the corner.

They hid their heads and squealed in terror as Pigeon craned her neck and.....

took a good close look at Fern's beautiful plumage.

Then Pigeon turned and walked away.

So you just never know...

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Something else you just never know about until it's too late:

Are these chicks going to one day lay eggs, or are they going to crow?

I've been burned once by Mother Nature----

She gave me this:

which turned into this:

...so what's with this tail on little Daisy?

....and these little black neck-feathers?

...and how about this tail of Fern's:

???

Am I paranoid?

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