Full Production

Thing I said this weekend: “Goldie, you’re a WOMAN!”

I know…so weird. But she laid her first egg yesterday! That means that all five now produce those delicious butt nuggets. I saw her squat on Saturday so it was only a matter of time. Amazing what a primal, natural thing it is. Submissive squat = mature enough to mate = ready to lay.

It also means that I have even MORE eggs that I can’t eat. I give so many eggs away! If you see me with a white paper sack in my massive purse, ask me if you can have them. Most of the time, I just carry them until I see someone that would want them. I shove the bag at them and say “YA WANT SOME EGGS?” They are rarely “reserved” for anyone in particular.

I shared this article on Facebook a few weeks ago. I don’t wash my eggs. I don’t refrigerate my eggs. It’s fiiiiiinnnnne.

That’s…about it around here. Hazel is broody again but I can already tell this will be a recurring issue so it is no longer news. Homechicken wants to be a mommy. Not gonna happen, sister.

 

 

A Peep at the Coops

A Peep at the Coops is an annual tour of chicken coops in East Dallas. It’s a fundraiser for Moss Haven Farm, a non-profit that provides “…nutritional, agricultural and environmental education on an urban school farm…”

Last year, I was in the throes of wanting chickens when it came up, so I dragged my friend Andrew with me and we drove around to tour 6 different backyard chicken coops. It’s like a home tour or garden tour, just…for coops. This should be painfully obvious.

It gave me a chance to see, – up close – coop construction, chicken breeds, general chicken-keeping practices, and ask questions OMG SO MANY QUESTIONS. I loved seeing the different sizes of coops, construction of runs, run materials, and the relaxed attitude pretty much everyone had about their flocks. They just made it seem approachable, accessible, DOABLE.

A week later, I brought my chicks home from Rooster Home & Hardware and started my coop construction. There really isn’t a way to fully convey the influence of that event on my life.

This year, I’m SO EXCITED OMG I COULD PEE. My coop will be featured on the tour!! I saw on social media that they were accepting applications for the 2017 event, so I applied, they came to see my setup, and I was accepted.

There is much work to be done in the backyard. It’s a disaster after the winter, and needs some TLC in general. So I’m working out some plans and when mom comes to visit in April, we will get to work!

Plant, dig, edge, mulch, trim, rake, repeat a couple dozen times. I’m sore and dehydrated just thinking about it. I can’t wait!

Dog Thoughts

I have many thoughts and even more unanswered questions. Some of them are about getting a dog. There are dogs that are bred and trained to be livestock guardian (LGD) dogs. Friends of mine have a dog similar to the hybrid breed I would want. I love her and would adopt her if she were available.  

I’ve never had a dog of my own, but I like the IDEA of a dog. I work from home two days a week, I stick close to home on the weekends. I fully expect to be one of those damn people that takes their dog everywhere. A LGD would likely prefer to be outside anyway, and we have relatively mild weather in north Texas. 

All signs point to a dog. But I’M still SO VERY SCARED. Would I be a good DogMom? Probably. Would I give it the care it would need? Of course. Would it get along with the cats? OMG I DON’T KNOOOOOWWWWW. 

And y’all know…this is KITTYCow Farms. My cats are my life. My Bubba Girl is almost 14 and deserves a peaceful existence. How do I guarantee a good little life for her (and the KittyCow, who is adaptable as heck) while protecting my hens and also enriching my own life? 

Rollercoaster

Wow. There’s been a lot happening around here. In the interest of expedience and my laziness, here’s the quick-and-dirty.

• Sweet Pearl was added to the flock in early December because I fell in love with her at Rooster. She was a beautiful, ethereal gray color, known as a Blue Wyandotte. When I saw her, I gasped – she was just the prettiest, sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

RIP Sweet Pearl (Blue Wyandotte)

• The others turned into total MeanGirls and beat the ever-loving shit out of her. She literally had a hole in her wing from where they pecked at her. It was so sad. But being the sweetest bird EVER, she would fly to me for safety. I loved her SO much.
• Part of Pearl’s trouble was due to the fact that I only added her. I’ve read countless articles, posts, etc., and EVERYONE says you have to add multiple birds and that adding one bird will lead to bullying and violence.
• Guess what? They were right.
• So! I had Sam bring me another bird – a Golden Laced Wyandotte. He brought her over and it was MAGIC. I was stunned. He set her down in the yard, the others looked at her, and moved on. The best part was that they cared so much less about Pearl being an interloper. What a relief! It had been a very fraught week-plus keeping Pearl separated but trying to expose the others to her.
• Off to Hawaii for Christmas! Lots of folks ask me who takes care of my chickies when I go away. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. THANK JEEBUS FOR URBAN CHICKEN, INC. This cannot be overstated. One of the MANY services they provide is chicken (and pet!) sitting so Sam had me well-covered. He even covered the cats for me. I’m so grateful.
• And then…
• Poor Sam had to call me on the 23rd to say “we lost some birds”. Pearl, Rosie, and the “new girl” (poor thing hadn’t even been named yet) were gone. Pearl and Rosie had been killed by what he thinks was a hawk (likely, considering the wintry lack of leaf cover, plus the nature of the…carnage), and NewGirl apparently tried to escape by flying into the neighbor’s yard and the dog got her.
• Sigh.
• Rosie was one of my best layers, and three birds just seems like a stupid-small number. I told Sam to go ahead and bring me another couple of pullets, replacing the Golden Laced Wyandotte and another one of his choosing as long as it was a good layer, as Rosie was reliable in the butt nugget department.
• Next day, there they were! Meet Maude 2.0 (you may remember one of my first chicks was Maude and I love the name) and Goldie. Maude is already laying eggs, but Goldie is still  baby. She will probably start laying in a few months.

Maude 2.0 (Rhode Island Red)

Goldie (Golden Laced Wyandotte)

• Meanwhile, Hazel went broody about a week before Christmas. She wouldn’t come off the nest, even though she wasn’t laying any eggs. Already a tiny thing, she needs to eat! Especially with the colder weather, I was worried about her keeping enough weight on to stay warm wince her downy feathers don’t make her very cold-hardy.
• Two days ago, I decided to try to “break” her broodiness by putting her in an open-bottomed cage in the garage overnight. Tellyooowhut, it worked! She has been out with the other girls during the days since and even roosts properly instead of sleeping on the nest at night. Whew!
• To recap: JOY VIOLENCE WORRY GRIEF ACCEPTANCE ADOPTION PROGRESS

Like I said. There has been a lot going on around here. I’ll do my best to update more often. There are also a few topics that would be good to cover so I’ll get those drafted ASAP.

Thanks for caring about me and my girls! I light up when anyone asks me about my chickens and/or cats.

Happy New Year from me, BubbaGirl, Rory, Gertie, Hazel, Betty, Maude 2.0, and Goldie.

Hazel’s First Egg

I ALWAYS check for eggs in the morning even though the egg-making process take roughly 25 hours and means that they typically lay later and later every day and then skip a day. Even the best egg-makers need a break every now and then, right?

SPOILER ALERT: Hazel laid her first egg today.

This is a big deal because not only is she tiny and ridiculous (with subsequently tiny and ridiculous eggs), but she showed no signs of being ready to lay (enlarged wattles, submissive squatting, general assholery). And yet?

There it was and I shouted “HAZEL! YOU’RE A WOMAN!” because I won’t have human children to embarrass during puberty, so I have to do it to my chickens. She’s a girl of a certain age (right at 6 months) so it was time, though some don’t lay till much MUCH later. I was shocked.

What a treat! Hazel is a Silkie hen and as such, will only lay about three small eggs each week. Seriously – it’s like half the size of a regular egg. So small, in fact, that I laughed and laughed and laughed. Like, tears and messed-up-my-makeup-guffawing-in-the-car LAUGHING.

So. Three of the girls have laid eggs. Yesterday I made one of these damn Pinterest things (SO DELISHUS) with eggs, cheese, red peppers (from my garden), and jalapeno (from my garden) for breakfast. Then for dinner I made this spaghetti carbonara with (homemade, fresh pasta). And yes, I felt as self-righteous as I sound right now. Now I just need pigs so I can process my own pork. Y’all know how much I love cured pork products.

So. Three out of my four little cluckers are laying. Betty is my hold-out but it should be any day.

Now…who needs eggs??

 

It Takes a Village

Hazel is sick. She doesn’t want to come out of the coop and when she does, she just sort of stands there. She’s lethargic and sad. She doesn’t want to eat or drink. Poor, poor ridiculous little fluffball. She has me quite worried, silly thing.

I noticed her being a little off on Saturday and mentioned it to John Ramos of Urban Chicken, Inc. when I saw him at a chicken conference. (Yes, that’s a thing. I’ll tell you all about it later.) John told me to check her nose to see if there was any goop. So I did. And there was. Crusty, yellow drainage.

Chickens are susceptible to myraid ailments, with several respiratory illnesses among them. There is a lot of Scary Stuff on the internet, so I try not to use the Chicken Internet Hive Mind (aka every Facebook group out there) for diagnosis. The groups are interesting and entertaining but often have conflicting info and old wives’ tales plus a bit of Tin Foil Hat Syndrome.

Let me backtrack a bit. When I first bought my house two and a half years ago, it occurred to me that I could have chickens. How whimsical! I am such an urban hippie! But I’m nothing if not a planner, so to the internet I went. I wanted to know EVERYTHING. Risks, rewards, commitment (financial, physical, time, emotional, life expectancy). When you take on the care of any living thing, you need to know what you’re getting into.

So, while I may not be quick to jump into the fray of “Hey internet, what’s wrong with my chicken”, I also made sure I knew of a local vet that could care for my girls if needed. PLUS, the BEST part is John and Sam at Urban Chicken. They aren’t vets, but they love chickens and they GET chickens. They have done some chicken-sitting for me, and I got Betty and Rosie from John. Sam gave a talk at the conference on Saturday about holistic chicken care (which means not defaulting to antibiotics for everything) so when John said Sam could come take a look at Hazel (when I called him in a bit of a panic yesterday morning because she was Not Right), I was super relived.

Sam came over in the evening and being the chicken whisperer that he is, checked her out, observed her for a long time, asked me questions. In her case, we ARE going to go ahead and treat her with Tylan 200, and antibiotic, for a few days to try to knock out whatever it is. That will mean dosing her via the water supply, which also means dosing the rest of the flock. That’s actually sensible in this case, because whatever it is is likely contagious so we are going to get in front of it. I won’t be able to eat any of their eggs for a week or so, but since those bitches aren’t laying any yet, I should be fine.

The hardest part of it all is that I’m on a plane now and will be gone for work for the rest of the week. John and Sam were lined up for chicken-sitting for a couple of days anyway, so we are adding two more days so they can dose the girls and keep a caring, watchful eye on little Hazel. I trust them to give it to me straight and do what’s best for my pets. I’m so glad they are in my village.

Doing Squats

An alternate title could be “I’m a Handsome Rooster”.

When hens reach sexual maturity, they will “squat” when approached by a dude. It’s a natural submissive reaction to a dominant rooster. She’s feeling a little randy.

Gertie is normally loathe to let me touch her. She follows me around the yard, and comes running to me when I go outside. She will also eat out of my hand. But if I try to pet her or HEAVEN FORBID pick her up, she darts away.

NOT TODAY

Today, she squatted so fast that it took me by surprise. It was such a primitive response that she didn’t think about it. The speed was what shocked me most. Like frames were missing from a scene. Normal standing and wal-DOWN. Looking over at th-DOWN. And when she’s down, she moves her head really fast left and right. I think it might stress her out a little bit.

Having read SO MUCH about chickens over the past several months, I knew it that meant. MAH BAYBEH IS READY TO LAY AN EGG! Also, it’s like a party trick. “Hey man, hold my beer and watch what I can make my chicken do!”

It could still be a couple of weeks, but at least I know that eggs are imminent. Finally.

Freeloaders

Nope. No eggs yet. I check the nest box every day. Nothing but golf balls. Maybe it’s like a watched pot? You know the old saying…a watched nest NEVER HAS ANYTHING EXCEPT STUPID GOLF BALLS IN IT.

The girls are getting along great. No more pecking and bullying. All 4 stick close together while they roam the yard. They are just so darn sweet. They like different kinds of treats and that means they get super spoiled. Mealworms (Betty and Rose love them), veggie scraps (they hate carrots but love tomatoes), and hard-boiled egg (yeah, yeah, yeah but it’s really nutritious and they love it) are the favorites. 

They get to free-range 3 full days a week, plus evenings when I’m home. With the nights getting longer, they go to bed earlier. And since the boys have been gone, the girls enjoy sleeping in. They are typically not even emerging from the hen house until like 8am.

Gertie will eat out of my hand again. Betty will come close and Rosie thinks about it but then she gets skeered. Hazel is Hazel. As usual. A dumb, fluffy, weird, useless chicken that is everyone’s favorite. 

Any day now. They are 23 weeks old. Once they lay some damn eggs, I will stop counting their age in weeks. 

It’s an interminable wait. 

Meanwhile, I have eggs on my shopping list, which just seems wrong. 

********Coming soon: A LOGO! (I have completely lost my mind)

Two In

If you wonder what any of these terms mean, check out the Chicktionary. If I haven’t defined it there for you, scold me in the comments and I’ll right the wrong. 

And then there were two. Much sad, very woe. Gertie and Hazel wouldn’t come out of the coop, wouldn’t come near me. I was persona non grata. It stung more than a little.

Last Saturday, I posted on a local chicken FB group about looking for pullets and got a response from John Ramos of Urban Chicken, Inc.. He said he had any kind of bird I could want.

John and his compadre Sam (super nice guys, highly recommend. 5/5 stars.) did some chicken-sitting (yes, it’s a thing) for me in July when I was traveling so I was already a client. He’s sort of the local chicken expert and had done some coop-building for at least one person on the Peep at the Coops tour that I mentioned in an earlier post. Basically, John is my chicken Sensei. 

I called John on Sunday (two days after BOY, BYE) and the man came through for me. We discussed a couple of the breeds that he had and I told him he could just pick out a couple for me. Clearly, I’m not great at choosing birds since I’m two for four, gender-wise.

Just an hour or so later, John and Sam brought over two sweet girls. Those guys. Love ’em.

Betty is a Welsummer/Rhode Island Red cross, which means she will lay a lot of chocolate brown eggs. Rose is an Ameraucana/Rhode Island Red cross, which means she will lay a lot of green or blue eggs.

Betty and Rosie are thick as thieves, with Betty being the ringleader of the two. They sleep huddled together and generally stay close to each other. They are about 23-24 weeks old – two or three weeks older than Gertie and Hazel.

It has been a week and Gertie no longer charges and pecks at Betty and Rose. Even Hazel got caught up in the peer pressure of bullying and did some pecking of her own. The girls all kind of sleep next to each other on the roost bar. They still keep mostly to their little factions but all’s quiet on the western front.

Between Betty, Rose, and Gertie, I should have eggs from at least one by Halloween. Once they all get going, I should have 12-15 eggs a week. Insanity! I already bought some half-dozen crates for giveaways when the laying starts in earnest. Meanwhile, I have a golf ball in the nest box to ever-so-gently-suggest to them that they LAY SOME GODDAMN EGGS AND HERE’S WHERE YOU DO IT.

If you’re wondering about Hazel, she’s so tiny and useless (and always will be) that her eggs will also be tiny and useless. She’s REAL pretty. Also dumb.

Two Out

If you wonder what any of these terms mean, check out the Chicktionary. If I haven’t defined it there for you, scold me in the comments and I’ll right the wrong. 

 

Roosters are total cocks.

See what I did there?

They really aren’t the nicest. There is anecdotal evidence to the contrary but my experience is that they are jerks. Some say they protect the hens, blah blah blah but mine were basically just friendly until they weren’t.

Phillip (The Cockerel Formerly Known as Phyllis), though he was pretty obviously a dude, was my favorite of all my chickens. I was never really ready to admit that Sheena Was a Man. This is how it went…

Philly crowed first – one week before Claude (The Cockerel Formerly Known as Maude) sang me the song of his people. Okay, so…yeah. He’s a rooster. But maaaaaybe I can keep him? He’s so funny and nice! He flies up to sit on my shoulder! NO, SELF. DON’T BE DUMB.

A week later, it seems Phil taught Claude to crow. How helpful.

Then, one morning I let them all out of the coop for some yard time and as I walked back into the house, Claude charged me and attacked my legs. OH HELL NO. He was ON NOTICE.

I was perfectly willing to give him away to someone that I knew would butcher him. I just couldn’t cull him myself. (I may like to think I have a tiny urban farm but COME ON) So, I posted on one of the SEVERAL chicken-related Facebook groups of which I am a member and one guy said he would take Maude. But, he wouldn’t be able to pick him up until Friday. No worries, I said. I wasn’t in a hurry because there was no infighting or domestchick violence (OMG I AM SO WITTY).

Friday rolls around and by that time Phil had also charged at me once and when the Nice Facebook Man came, I said “You want another rooster, too?”. He shrugged and said yes, so YAY. If you’re not going to lay eggs AND you can’t be nice? BOY BYE.

Both boys went off with him in the front seat of his plumbing van (you can’t make this stuff up) and were off to ACTUALLY LIVE on his land, where he already has a few hens and a couple horses. He wants to raise chicks. So they didn’t go to live on “The Farm”. Just a regular old farm.

The girls were actually really upset. Like, didn’t want their favorite treat in the world (corn) and wouldn’t let me near them. The resentment was palpable. Eeeeeesh.