Almost two weeks since the chickens left. It's so nice to be able to get a full-night's sleep, not worry about protecting the garden and landscaping, and (best of all) no fresh chicken poop on my truck!
If you are concerned about where they went, last I heard they were enjoying the wide open spaces of a farm about an hour east of here. That's one benefit of my job, most of the other people in my department also have property in the country with various types of farm life. So even though the new owner is a butcher by trade, I don't think they will be ending up in the stew pot any time soon. (Though I did assure him that I wouldn't mind if that was their final fate.)
So what's been happening since then? I've started the big mare on her road back to being a usable riding horse. It's been three months since treatment on her leg wound finished. Being on 24-hour turnout on pasture with rolling terrain has helped in her self-regulated rehab work. Now I'm just playing it smart with her conditioning program - lots of walking, bending, and flexing for now, work up to some trot work in a week or two, and go from there. The broccoli and kohlrabi has taken off in the garden, radishes and lettuce are close to picking, but the recent cold snap may have killed off the potatoes. Something has taken up residence in the new bluebird house but I have yet to see what kind of bird it is.
Will the name of the blog change now that the chickens are gone? I've given it some thought, and decided to keep it.
Is this the end of chicken raising? For the short term, yes. For the long term, who knows. I'm not taking down the coop just yet, but I did give away the remaining chicken feed. The friend who gave me the roosters suggested I might make a good home for one of her laying hens that is going blind. My goal has been to have birds that are relatively self sufficient so I don't know if I want to take on a special-needs case. She assures me that it won't mess with the garden, but then again the previous feathered critters proved that wrong. The only guarantee is that it won't crow.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Buh-Bye
I just spent the last two hours catching and crating the chickens.
No easy task. Those dang roosters must have known what was coming. I consulted with a coworker (the person who gave me the half-grown birds in the first place) on how to catch them since half of them have taken to roosting in the barn rafters. Her suggestion was to take a broad broom or garden rake and bump the birds in the chest to get them to step on the new "perch" and lift them down.
So I waited until dark and for the birds to roost. I had to flush one out of the "attic space" over the tack room at dusk so it would be in the barn with the others. Once everybird was inside I closed up the barn doors. I figured the more confined the better. I started with the center aisle lights on, then just the feed room lights on, but the birds still walked around on the rafters like it was daylight. Finally I just gave up and killed all the lights so the only illumination came from the yard light, shining in through a few small windows.
I went for the Ring Leader first. I should have known better. Even in the dark he would evade the rake and move just out of reach. I even crept up a ladder I placed before dark and tried to grab him, but he took off and flew across to the next rafter just as my fingertips touched his feathers. After a little shuffling and resettling, he perched near the ladder again. This time I brought a draw-string laundry bag, hoping I could basically bag-and-scoop but he took off even quicker. This time he and his buddies huddled themselves in a cluster (flustercluck?) just out of reach of my tools. Flipped on the barn lights and figured the least I could do would be to herd them into the coop/stall so at least a few would be easier to catch when reinforcements could arrive the next evening.
OK, new approach. Three birds had roosted in the stall, so I went in there and closed the door behind me. My initial plan was to grab them off their roosts and stuff them into the dog crate I had in the stall with me. Didn't take long chasing a bunch of dark colored roosters in the dark on the floor of the stall. Is it a bird? Is it a shadow? No! It's Super Wiley Rooster!
Plan F. Open dog crate, place in corner, herd chicken into open door, slam door shut and haul out the crate so I can transfer my quarry to the transport crate. Worked pretty good for on the first bird. The second bird (Ring Leader) put up a fight when I was doing the transfer, and I wound up with a big handful of feathers and another chase around the barn until I could get him back into the stall.
Ah ha! The more I can keep the barnlights off, the less of a fight the now blind and vulnerable birds put up. Two birds caught, three birds. Flip the barn lights back on, use my 10 foot longe whip (I new it would come in handy for something!) to flush the quarry from its hiding spot, and play a complicated game of cat and mouse, trying to first get the birds on the ground and then herd them into the stall. Two more go in; I never even bothered to let them roost before turning out the lights and played more chicken coop Marco Polo with Four. Five put up a good fight, but it's panting gave away its location. I left him in the coop in the dog crate while I finally flushed out Six and corralled him in the stall.
Lights out one more time. Transfer Five into the carrier. Odd how the chickens remain calm in the dark even as the carrier continues to get fuller. Back in the stall, and I quietly "shush, shush" to tell the bird where I am as I had his now-caught com-padres. Back and forth, back and forth. A few futile attempts at a vertical escape (("Go toward the (yard) light!")) before he wedged himself between the crate and the wall. One more flush and a little more back and forth, and Six took a few hesitant steps into the dog crate.
Close the door, deep breath, no sigh of relief until this one has joined his buddies in the travel carrier. As with the others, turn the dog crate on its end. Reach in and grab by the base of the wings. With the other hand release the bungee cord holding the lid shut on the carrier. In one swift move lift the lid and shove the bird in. Strange how the bird that was at the bottom of the pecking order was the last one to be caught; you think he should have been better at avoiding the avian bullies given his skill at evading me.
Flip on the barn lights, grab some baling twine and tie the lid shut. Release the dog from her exile in the tack room, and watch her and the cat sniff and explore this odd box and its feathered convicts. Call it a night, turn off the barn lights, leave the barn doors shut just in case... Go find a beer.
I wonder how the chicken soup will turn out.
No easy task. Those dang roosters must have known what was coming. I consulted with a coworker (the person who gave me the half-grown birds in the first place) on how to catch them since half of them have taken to roosting in the barn rafters. Her suggestion was to take a broad broom or garden rake and bump the birds in the chest to get them to step on the new "perch" and lift them down.
So I waited until dark and for the birds to roost. I had to flush one out of the "attic space" over the tack room at dusk so it would be in the barn with the others. Once everybird was inside I closed up the barn doors. I figured the more confined the better. I started with the center aisle lights on, then just the feed room lights on, but the birds still walked around on the rafters like it was daylight. Finally I just gave up and killed all the lights so the only illumination came from the yard light, shining in through a few small windows.
I went for the Ring Leader first. I should have known better. Even in the dark he would evade the rake and move just out of reach. I even crept up a ladder I placed before dark and tried to grab him, but he took off and flew across to the next rafter just as my fingertips touched his feathers. After a little shuffling and resettling, he perched near the ladder again. This time I brought a draw-string laundry bag, hoping I could basically bag-and-scoop but he took off even quicker. This time he and his buddies huddled themselves in a cluster (flustercluck?) just out of reach of my tools. Flipped on the barn lights and figured the least I could do would be to herd them into the coop/stall so at least a few would be easier to catch when reinforcements could arrive the next evening.
OK, new approach. Three birds had roosted in the stall, so I went in there and closed the door behind me. My initial plan was to grab them off their roosts and stuff them into the dog crate I had in the stall with me. Didn't take long chasing a bunch of dark colored roosters in the dark on the floor of the stall. Is it a bird? Is it a shadow? No! It's Super Wiley Rooster!
Plan F. Open dog crate, place in corner, herd chicken into open door, slam door shut and haul out the crate so I can transfer my quarry to the transport crate. Worked pretty good for on the first bird. The second bird (Ring Leader) put up a fight when I was doing the transfer, and I wound up with a big handful of feathers and another chase around the barn until I could get him back into the stall.
Ah ha! The more I can keep the barnlights off, the less of a fight the now blind and vulnerable birds put up. Two birds caught, three birds. Flip the barn lights back on, use my 10 foot longe whip (I new it would come in handy for something!) to flush the quarry from its hiding spot, and play a complicated game of cat and mouse, trying to first get the birds on the ground and then herd them into the stall. Two more go in; I never even bothered to let them roost before turning out the lights and played more chicken coop Marco Polo with Four. Five put up a good fight, but it's panting gave away its location. I left him in the coop in the dog crate while I finally flushed out Six and corralled him in the stall.
Lights out one more time. Transfer Five into the carrier. Odd how the chickens remain calm in the dark even as the carrier continues to get fuller. Back in the stall, and I quietly "shush, shush" to tell the bird where I am as I had his now-caught com-padres. Back and forth, back and forth. A few futile attempts at a vertical escape (("Go toward the (yard) light!")) before he wedged himself between the crate and the wall. One more flush and a little more back and forth, and Six took a few hesitant steps into the dog crate.
Close the door, deep breath, no sigh of relief until this one has joined his buddies in the travel carrier. As with the others, turn the dog crate on its end. Reach in and grab by the base of the wings. With the other hand release the bungee cord holding the lid shut on the carrier. In one swift move lift the lid and shove the bird in. Strange how the bird that was at the bottom of the pecking order was the last one to be caught; you think he should have been better at avoiding the avian bullies given his skill at evading me.
Flip on the barn lights, grab some baling twine and tie the lid shut. Release the dog from her exile in the tack room, and watch her and the cat sniff and explore this odd box and its feathered convicts. Call it a night, turn off the barn lights, leave the barn doors shut just in case... Go find a beer.
I wonder how the chicken soup will turn out.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
I've had it!
Yesterday was the proverbial straw breaking the camel's back. The chickens are officially in need of a new home and/or purpose to mankind.
What brought me to this point?
First it was the destruction of the salad garden. The salad garden is a planter box of sorts around the base of one of the porches. I call it the salad garden because its the right size for growing various lettuces and herbs. I learned a long time ago that it was a nice dust bath area for the chickens (and a litter box for the cats when the ground was bare). Then last fall the chickens decided my almost-ready-to harvest crop of romaine was fair game, and what were nine beautiful, leafy plants were reduced to pathetic, ragged stems within a day. (Have I mentioned their previous destruction of a beautiful crop of ripe roma tomatoes, the mercilous slaughter of the bell peppers, and the defoliation of carrots the preceding summer?) At the same time one bird thought the perfect napping spot was under the branches of the rosemary, to the detriment of the thyme beside it. So I took the proactive approach this spring by putting lattice over the top of the bed until the seeds sprouted, then upgraded to the mesh fencing around the whole L-shaped box. This worked for about two weeks, when the birds' sparing on the porch railing would cause a few to land inside the mesh, causing a dust-up as the bird attempted to escape and the death of a few romaine and red leaf transplants from the local garden center. I replaced the perimeter mesh with 7-foot wide mesh so that it would form a tent over the whole thing beginning from the ground and wrapping up and over the porch railing and tied to the spindles with some baling twine. The mesh also has deterred the roosters from hanging out on the porch railing. This was last weekend's project.
Shortly after that problem was solved, the chickens decided they did not have enough space roosting on the wide-spaced boards that form a barrier between the horse pasture and the covered parking area attached to the barn (who wants a horse to reach over the fence and take a taste of their vehicles?). So they started perching ON my truck when I came home from work. I tried shushing them away but to no avail. This act quickly devolved into hanging out on the sides of the truck bed, and then became one of their preferred sparing areas as their aggression on the smallest and weakest of the group took a turn for the worst. Now I have a truck covered in chicken sh#t and plucked feathers in less than a week, and I haven't had the nerve to get out the ladder to check the paint damage to the roof.
Then yesterday was the last of it. Last fall the chickens made it a mission to defoliate the hostas and other shade plants off the back porch (oh, and made themselves another dusting area in the mulch, destroying the landscape fabric underneath the walking paths). This spring as I started to plant the raised beds, I extended the mesh fencing to surround both of the raised beds as well as the mulched hosta area. I put up with having to move/step over the fence to access the rain barrels and weed/water/plant in this large area of the back yard. Worked great until yesterday, when the chickens figured out how to get onto the porch and go around the fencing. After spending the day working from home, I walked out the door to find rooster-sized craters among the broccoli plants, the (struggling) carrot sprouts uprooted and/or covered in a thick layer of dirt, and the tops of several emerging potato and pea plants looking rather plucked.
I have reached the point where the roosters' problems far outweigh any benefit they may be providing. I am currently seeking rehoming/harvesting solutions for the birds. Unfortunately at a year of age they are no longer desirable for roasting, frying, and other common cooking methods, and I don't have the resources for mass production of chicken stock. However, I hear a neighbor may be able to put them to good use in her own freezer . . .
One thing I do know is that their days at Cheesehead Hills are numbered.
What brought me to this point?
First it was the destruction of the salad garden. The salad garden is a planter box of sorts around the base of one of the porches. I call it the salad garden because its the right size for growing various lettuces and herbs. I learned a long time ago that it was a nice dust bath area for the chickens (and a litter box for the cats when the ground was bare). Then last fall the chickens decided my almost-ready-to harvest crop of romaine was fair game, and what were nine beautiful, leafy plants were reduced to pathetic, ragged stems within a day. (Have I mentioned their previous destruction of a beautiful crop of ripe roma tomatoes, the mercilous slaughter of the bell peppers, and the defoliation of carrots the preceding summer?) At the same time one bird thought the perfect napping spot was under the branches of the rosemary, to the detriment of the thyme beside it. So I took the proactive approach this spring by putting lattice over the top of the bed until the seeds sprouted, then upgraded to the mesh fencing around the whole L-shaped box. This worked for about two weeks, when the birds' sparing on the porch railing would cause a few to land inside the mesh, causing a dust-up as the bird attempted to escape and the death of a few romaine and red leaf transplants from the local garden center. I replaced the perimeter mesh with 7-foot wide mesh so that it would form a tent over the whole thing beginning from the ground and wrapping up and over the porch railing and tied to the spindles with some baling twine. The mesh also has deterred the roosters from hanging out on the porch railing. This was last weekend's project.
Shortly after that problem was solved, the chickens decided they did not have enough space roosting on the wide-spaced boards that form a barrier between the horse pasture and the covered parking area attached to the barn (who wants a horse to reach over the fence and take a taste of their vehicles?). So they started perching ON my truck when I came home from work. I tried shushing them away but to no avail. This act quickly devolved into hanging out on the sides of the truck bed, and then became one of their preferred sparing areas as their aggression on the smallest and weakest of the group took a turn for the worst. Now I have a truck covered in chicken sh#t and plucked feathers in less than a week, and I haven't had the nerve to get out the ladder to check the paint damage to the roof.
Then yesterday was the last of it. Last fall the chickens made it a mission to defoliate the hostas and other shade plants off the back porch (oh, and made themselves another dusting area in the mulch, destroying the landscape fabric underneath the walking paths). This spring as I started to plant the raised beds, I extended the mesh fencing to surround both of the raised beds as well as the mulched hosta area. I put up with having to move/step over the fence to access the rain barrels and weed/water/plant in this large area of the back yard. Worked great until yesterday, when the chickens figured out how to get onto the porch and go around the fencing. After spending the day working from home, I walked out the door to find rooster-sized craters among the broccoli plants, the (struggling) carrot sprouts uprooted and/or covered in a thick layer of dirt, and the tops of several emerging potato and pea plants looking rather plucked.
I have reached the point where the roosters' problems far outweigh any benefit they may be providing. I am currently seeking rehoming/harvesting solutions for the birds. Unfortunately at a year of age they are no longer desirable for roasting, frying, and other common cooking methods, and I don't have the resources for mass production of chicken stock. However, I hear a neighbor may be able to put them to good use in her own freezer . . .
One thing I do know is that their days at Cheesehead Hills are numbered.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Yikes!
I thought last week was busy, this week I've barely made it home from work before dark. Not that I haven't tried, but it seems that the two days I could go home before dark fate works against me one way or the other such that I don't get to do anything around the house.
I'm still driving around with 80 lbs of birdseed in the back of my truck. And oddly enough, if I make it home before the chickens roost for the night, they spend a fair amount of time patrolling the edge of my truck bed. Are they hunting for an opportunity (or started hole in the bags) to access the yummy sunflower seeds? They certainly are doing a good job of changing my red truck and black bed liner to a more mottled color but the birdseed bags are still in tact (for now).
I do feel sorry for the other birdies. After all, I haven't been home long enough to refill feeders. On the other hand maybe it should teach them to rate their intake a little better.
But that would work off the assumption that songbirds are capable of higher level reasoning.
OK, this post is starting to get too cerebral for this time of night.
I'm still driving around with 80 lbs of birdseed in the back of my truck. And oddly enough, if I make it home before the chickens roost for the night, they spend a fair amount of time patrolling the edge of my truck bed. Are they hunting for an opportunity (or started hole in the bags) to access the yummy sunflower seeds? They certainly are doing a good job of changing my red truck and black bed liner to a more mottled color but the birdseed bags are still in tact (for now).
I do feel sorry for the other birdies. After all, I haven't been home long enough to refill feeders. On the other hand maybe it should teach them to rate their intake a little better.
But that would work off the assumption that songbirds are capable of higher level reasoning.
OK, this post is starting to get too cerebral for this time of night.
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