Happy Easter

It’s kinda fun to go out on Easter morning and get a warm egg. Thanks Dolly or Lily. After two days of nasty weather, today it’s relatively pleasant. The hens are out rototilling the yard.
I have been asked to write another feed store story. Here is one.
One of the geniuses had gotten a forklift hopelessly stuck in the mud. How there was ever mud in Reno, I don’t know, but there was some. The brain trust got together to figure out a solution. I just watched, because I knew from past experience that something bad but funny would surely happen. They lead guy got the biggest truck we had and tied a very long rope to the top of the cage that covers the driver of the forklift and the other end to the truck. He then got into the truck and gunned the engine. At this point I ran for my life. I finally had to turn and see the result. As the rope went taught, the cage ripped off the forklift and flew through the air at Mach 1, and coming to rest on a pallet of chicken feed and sending feed to the corners of the earth. The forklift did not budge. If only we had cell phones with video cameras in those days.

A steady pattern

The hens and the people have developed a steady pattern. One egg per day, a half hour out of the coop near sundown, and clean straw in the hen house most days.
I wonder if they’ve forgotten their lost buddy Gloria. I think not. I’ve always believed animals are smarter than we give them credit for. This is due to the fact that animal intelligence and human intelligence are as different as night and day. We can’t understand them, so we think they are dumb.
My son planted new grass in an area that a backhoe had torn up. As I suspected, the girls thought I made it just for them. I put up a fence to keep them and the humans out while the grass gets a chance to grow. I used metal fence posts, but found that I did not have enough to do the job. As a boy growing up in Nevada, I remembered that fences there often have a repeating pattern of one metal post and one post made from local plants (not trees, this is Nevada). I made some fence posts from some pruning remains and the fence looks very good to me. The hens were a bit perplexed at the new state of affairs, but quickly adapted.
One activity that Dolly, the Rhode Island Red, loves to do is have a dirt bath. She wiggles around in the dirt and turns upside down and makes very contented sounds. If I was a predator, that’s when I’d make my move. Luckily, she has me and Lily to watch out for her during these periods of luxuriating inattentiveness.

and then there were two

I let the girls out yesterday for a good long time. Every time I checked on them they were enjoying themselves. When it came time to put them in for the night, only two hens were visible. I looked and found Gloria sitting in the leaves behind the shed. Her eyes were open, but when I knelt down to pick her up she didn’t move and I knew something was wrong. I gently picked her up and put her in the hen house. She didn’t move. Then she flapped around and stopped suddenly. I knew she was gone. I had to go to an important meeting but returned hours later to find her in the same position, and Dolly and Lily were not themselves.

I buried Gloria in the backyard with Wendy the hamster, Sgt Pepper the mouse, Mr. Wiggles the mouse, the tawny mouse whose name I can’t remember, and the mole with no given name.

Hen scratch

Seattle Tilth, the organization that taught me about chickens, wants my straw/chicken-poop mixture! They need it for an advanced class in composting.

Letting the hens out to run around close to sunset is a good idea; they don’t stray as far and getting them back in the coop is much easier.

Several neighbors have come over to see the setup. Chickens are a real draw for people. Could it be that our historical relationship with chickens is now in our genes, similar to dogs?

Today the girls should use the last of the feed that came with the chickens. I’m anxious to try the new feed.

I watched the hens go up and down the ramp. I have to add some traction; it’s more like a theme-park ride at this point.

The hens got a good long time out of the coop today. They actually all went back in on their own; all I had to do was shut the door.
I have also installed a HPS (Hen Protection System) on the side of the coop, for the odd canine who ventures in my backyard looking for an easy lunch. I suppose it would also work on a raccoon or pole cat. See attached picture.
I did the first big cleaning of the coop since I got it. It was pretty easy. I plan to make a way to hoist the roof of the coop. Luckily there is a big tree overhead that should work well.
The hens are continuing to give us over 2 eggs/day on average.

Straw

As my poultry keeping starts to become more routine, my mind wanders. What the heck is straw anyway? Thanks to the internet, it is easy to find out.

I thought straw came from a straw plant. Wrong. Straw is merely the by-product of grain production. It is the stalks of cereal plants. This is why when I put new straw into the coop, the hens go to town looking for little bundles of left-over grain.

As Mr. Spock would say, “Fascinating”.

relax!

One side-effect of chicken raising I had not anticipated was the relaxation it brings. I find letting the hens out to run free and cleaning the coop to be among the most relaxing of activities.

Yesterday I saw Dolly sharpening her beak on the cement, fascinating!

Gloria is very friendly and will come over for petting.

When they want to, the hens are very fast. They stick their wings out and go like the wind!