I have back story. I am not going to bother with it. I gotta start somewhen, so it's today.
Chicken adventures for March 12, 2011.
The morning started with a fairly heavy frost. At 6:30, I opened the chicken door on the coop. The first chicken out was one of the two brooders. She made a beeline (chickenline?) to her "nest" under the holly bushes. She diligently crawled onto her rogue nest and sat atop her three wooden eggs, waiting for them to hatch. I suppose I could remove the wooden eggs to stop her brooding, but I am afraid she will find another location further afield that I won't find. At least I know where this one is. I admit to being somewhat curious as to how long she will sit on these eggs since they are never going to hatch. The other broody hen is sitting on her 2 wooden eggs in the hen house. The rest of the chickens, along with my rooster, JW, trooped out to munch on scratch and scatter, but not before JW had his way with two of the girls. They all seem to be losing feathers due to his dilligence. You can tell which are his favorites by comparing relative feather sparsity.
Along about 8 am, Muskett, our black Lab, started barking up a storm. I looked out into the front yard and see a cute grey fox wander up the driveway. Awww. Then I remembered the chickens. Oh crap! Rushing out, I tried to spook him away, but this didn't seem to work. I noted his behavior and he seemed rather sick acting. I was still worried about the chickens, who were, by now, raising a ruckus from various parts of the yard and woods, so I managed to herd the fox into our storage shed and close the door.
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Two of the girls are pecking the french door trying to get at a moth on the inside. I had to go let them in to get the moth. Eaten.
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I called a neighbor for the number of Animal Control. She didn't know, but gave me her sister-in-law's cell number. She is married to a former deputy sheriff and he may know who to call. Around here, if you call around enough, you will eventually get to the right party. So I called the sheriff dispatch and the girl on the other line took my information and told me she would call Animal Control.
One hour later, our animal control guy pulls up. He apologized for the time it took to get here, but apparently the girl who took the information got the address AND phone number wrong. Oh well. He got out of truck with a 22. Hmmmm. I told him what happened and took him to the shed. We listened for a moment and heard a lot of thumping going on inside. He looked at me kinda funny and asked me how I got the fox in the shed. I told him I shooed him in with a wire humane trap I had for possums.
He put his gun down and went to his truck to get a trap and a catching loop. He set up his trap outside the door and tried to open the door gently. Well, that door has never opened with anything but a jerk. He looked at me again, rather annoyed. What could I say, it is a country shed. Finally, he got the door open and looked around, spotted the fox near the freezer in the back of the shed. He got his trap and capture loop and managed to get the fox in the trap. When he brought it out, oh my god, the fox was convulsing and flopping around. I had shooed a rabid fox into my shed, with absolutely no protection!!!!. After getting a severe, and well deserved, lecture about approaching a rabid animal (well golly, he didn't act rabid when I saw him) the animal control guy told me that I live in the country now and had to learn to shoot a gun to protect me and my girls. Damn. I knew he was right and if I looked at the big picture, I was really protecting other animals from getting sick. OK. He also told me if there was one rabid animal around, there were most likely more, so keep a close watch.
Jim, my husband, said I needed to practice with a 22, but I told him it really needed to be a shot gun because I would be crying so hard while I shot, that I would miss with a rifle. We'll see who wins.
After that I had to rush to the vet to get our dog Buddy (1/2 lab 1/2 greyhound and 100% layed back) since the vet closes at noon. He had been having seizures and we had him in for observation. Of course, he was totally fine at the vet's so I brought him home.
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4 o'clock. Time to walk myself and the dogs.
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I'm back from the walk. The chickens (the non broody ones) are in the back yard taking advantage of the new green grass.
Except for Minion, my own personal chicken. She is laying by the back door waiting for a special handout. So she gets a graham cracker.
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Dinner, Home made tofu and stir fried beet greens from last year's garden. MMMM Oh yeah, and a glass of wine.
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Well, 6 pm has rolled around and 9 chickens and one rooster hit their coop yard. After I close them in, I have to go after my hen on the rogue nest. As usual, when I drag her out, she has all of her feathers extended and stays that way until I deposit her inside the pen. And as usual, I do a dance with JW, he going for my feet and jumping for my knees, and as usual, I do my best to avoid major injury. I lunge at him and he blind sides me. Today, he manages to pop me good in the knee. I swear he is psychic as to just what area to hit me in for maximum pain. But, as it is his job to protect the girls, I can't complain. Much.
So I limp back to the house.
At dusk, the chickens have all put themselves to bed. My other broody hen is still sitting on her wooden eggs but the rest take their order on the roost. I make sure they have food and water and close them in.
Another day done. Bak Bak.
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