Coyotes. Weasels, Owls, Hawks, Vultures, Racoons & Fox; all these animals are circling around the property in search of a meal. It's not good enough for it to taste like chicken, especially when they might be able to get an actual chicken.
This weekend the number of people who told me terrible stories about how they had lost their chickens, or how people they knew or were related to had lost their chickens was directly proportionate to the rise in my systolic blood pressure as I worried about everyone getting in to the coop on time.
I forgot to tell Rosamund that the chicken water has to be cleared out daily because they kick shavings and feathers into it.
I forgot to tell Rosamund that even though Buck and the girls seem to have gone into the house, there has to be a beak count with a flashlight, or we'll come up the next day a chicken or two short.
Barbie is determined to sleep in the former chicken house. There is no explanation for this because she wasn't here when that shed was in use. I do not want to cough up for another electric door and besides I need to have some shed space for my use, though Barbie doesn't think so.
The other chickens who came here with her go into the chicken house and pile into the egg laying bins. The Bridge Club perches up above and sneers down at them. They've had a week to get used to the new girls - I think there's a little less name-calling going on.
Two nights running, I have gone into the shed with a flashlight to find Barbie roosting on some storage boxes. It's easy to pick her up when she's sleepy, for a moment her adrenaline is up, then after being patted and massaged a bit, she sticks her head in my armpit and goes back to sleep. It's endearing. My cats won't let me pick them up waking or sleeping, but the chickens, though they may resist being caught while on the run, once they are nabbed they give in to it - even Buck.
Though today he gave me a good bite and steely "So There!" sort of look when I tried to touch his comb. I'm still not in the inner circle.
I wonder if this docility is a reflex that helps them accept their fate when they are grabbed by a predator. I hope it includes endorphins.
This weekend the number of people who told me terrible stories about how they had lost their chickens, or how people they knew or were related to had lost their chickens was directly proportionate to the rise in my systolic blood pressure as I worried about everyone getting in to the coop on time.
I forgot to tell Rosamund that the chicken water has to be cleared out daily because they kick shavings and feathers into it.
I forgot to tell Rosamund that even though Buck and the girls seem to have gone into the house, there has to be a beak count with a flashlight, or we'll come up the next day a chicken or two short.
Barbie is determined to sleep in the former chicken house. There is no explanation for this because she wasn't here when that shed was in use. I do not want to cough up for another electric door and besides I need to have some shed space for my use, though Barbie doesn't think so.
The other chickens who came here with her go into the chicken house and pile into the egg laying bins. The Bridge Club perches up above and sneers down at them. They've had a week to get used to the new girls - I think there's a little less name-calling going on.
Two nights running, I have gone into the shed with a flashlight to find Barbie roosting on some storage boxes. It's easy to pick her up when she's sleepy, for a moment her adrenaline is up, then after being patted and massaged a bit, she sticks her head in my armpit and goes back to sleep. It's endearing. My cats won't let me pick them up waking or sleeping, but the chickens, though they may resist being caught while on the run, once they are nabbed they give in to it - even Buck.
Though today he gave me a good bite and steely "So There!" sort of look when I tried to touch his comb. I'm still not in the inner circle.
I wonder if this docility is a reflex that helps them accept their fate when they are grabbed by a predator. I hope it includes endorphins.
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Glad to hear from you, but criticisms will be ignored. It's the beauty of the web. I will answer all friendly remarks. Buck handles the rest.