Ethel Embraced by Flock

 When we last spoke, and I told you of Ethel's attack, I forgot to tell you a fascinating piece of the story.

After her recuperation in the basement, when we returned her to the flock, she immediately went to the juncture of barn and chicken porch, put her head in the corner and just stood there.  All the other girls gathered around her in a circle.   

What did this mean?  Someone with more chicken psychology savvy will have to answer that.
Did they know she was the one who was attacked?  Or was it just she had been gone from the flock for a week.
Long time readers will remember, a few years ago I approached the donkey yard after free range and saw an circle of hens in the pasture.  One of the girls had been attacked, we assumed by a hawk, and was lying dead.  They had gathered around her.

Because we'll be having housesitter over soon, it was time for the "annual-vacuum-all-the-cobwebs- from-the-barn-and-coop" day.

I have to conclude I didn't celebrate this holiday last year, based on the size of the cobwebs.

And sadly this photo doesn't do the whopper justice.

Let me bring you up to the house for a moment.  Yes, I'm trying a hibiscus plant yet again this year -- I've killed two from trying to winter them.
This two-tone beauty likes her current location, which I believe is the key to every houseplant.  And I've lucked out on more than one occasion, as with my orchids.

   

And I'm really stretching the limits of this little blog by introducing television watching.
I've been traveling down memory lane with a couple of shows and loving it.  Did you know you can find Ozzie and Harriet on Prime.  I was too young to see the first many seasons (I think I was born the year the series started)  but it was on the air for 14 years.  So I clearly remember Ricky singing at the end of the show when I was a kid.   

And I've added Magnum P.I. -- the original -- but have to get that from the library on DVD.  Tom  (as a 30-something) can still dazzle me.  Quick story -- Rick and I honeymooned in Hawaii, early 1987 and were sure we saw Tom on the beach of Oahu.   

I never investigated Call the Midwife, until recently.  Of course I had to start at the beginning and it's a current fave.  In addition to Vera and Shetland -- both British murder mysteries.

And there you have the news.  Happy trails to all.  But wait --

Where's Waldo?

The Tale of Ethel's Attack

 If you recall, I received six re-homed girls two(?) years ago when a local family decided life was too hectic to keep birds.  One of those beauties was Ethel.  I've always called her Baby Ethel which makes no sense since she's one of the larger hens.

Two weeks ago the girls had been out for free range time and I approached the gate to bring everyone back in.  At that moment a large bird flew off from the pasture and then I saw Ethel.  As I took in the scene, the two roos were sounding the distress call and most of the hens were in the coop, while two or three were crouched in bushes.  But Ethel had apparently been in the open in the pasture.

I don't know what type of predator bird it was - sure didn't look like a hawk but it happened so quickly.

I carried Ethel to the coop and she made her way to a space under the nesting boxes, breathing heavily and clearly scared to death.  I saw no blood.
We wanted to let her calm down so let her stay sheltered in the coop overnight but in the morning brought her inside to a large dog crate in the basement.  It was clear she had a  mobility issue so Rick pressed legs and feet to test for injury, but she showed no signs of pain.

Although it's a large crate she stayed fairly sedentary.  I offered her treats like bananas and Grubblies and mixed up some aspirin water (one baby aspirin per quart).  After six days we took her outside to test her mobility and she appeared improved but not 100%.  So back to the basement for another three days.

This past Sunday we decided to let her join the flock while keeping an eye on her.  She had a little hitch in her running but walked fine.  Now, several days later we're not noticing any issues.  And, although she seemed content in the crate during her convalescence, she's clearly happy to be back with the gang.

No need for the vet appointment I had made, just in case (of course I cancelled with notice).

I'm not certain, but don't believe she's ventured into the donkey pasture since the incident.

And for your viewing amusement, here's knucklehead Spice using a wheelbarrow handle as a Q-tip.

Stay cool!

 

Tenacious Flies and a Daylily Tour

 We're definitely in the thick of fly season, but it's not all-out hideous -- yet.  The donks get sprayed daily just before pasture time, and, my guess is they enjoy it.  After I arrive at the donkey yard and immediately head to the barn, saying, "let's get sprayed" they follow right behind me and stand cooperatively.

 In the heat of the day, the windshield wipers are on high speed.  And they spend time in the barn in front of the fan, as much for fly control as for cooling.

I know this will be a departure from our normal conversations, but have to show you a stretch of road quite near our little dirt road.  This was taken July 7 and the mass of wild daylilies was spectacular -- for quite a stretch.

The hens say hi and hope to make an appearance next post.

Harmonious Hens

 In addition to our teeny tiny farm I have a teeny tiny (post-retirement) job.  The job summer schedule means  an adjustment in the blog schedule.  I've been consistent with Mondays for quite a while but looks like posts will be published on Wednesdays now after today).

As I look out the window (I always have my computer at a window) it's pouring and it's been hot hot hot.  Fans are whirring in the barn and coop, although I think the barn fan is about to poop out.

Speaking of fans, every summer I put a small one on the floor for the dogs.  I may have started this with Gunner.  Nowadays Faith and Phinny park themselves in front of it often.  Even when it's not on...

So far I've not seen heat distress in the chonkeys, knock on wood.  Donks like their casual amble in the morning when it's (sometimes) cooler.

And here they lined up perfectly for the paparazzi.

Let's end with the morning chorus from the hens.  This is their harmonious (?) song before I open the coop for the morning.

Those Darn Hens!

 I've got some trouble makers.  Not really.  But they are testing my patience.

Let's start with Mitzi.  In the morning, when the girls get a bit of free range time during chores, Mitzi likes to wander the pasture, all by herself.  Everyone else responds to the "treats are ready" call and runs back to the run.  Except Mitzi.  Trying to herd her back to the donkey yard is a test of back and forth, back and forth, etc.  Yesterday morning I lucked out and got her in one try.  Huzzah!

Peggy Sue, who has a painfully naked back from the roos, will not keep her saddle pad on.  Her friend of the same size (and color) has kept hers on for weeks.  But not Peggy.  If it stays on a week, we're lucky.

One time I found it hanging from her neck.  How she accomplished that I can't fathom.  She had to slip  it off both wings.  Clever girl.  (heavy sigh...)

The list goes on but let's conclude with the darn boys.

That first day I let the new girls free range with the gang, all hell broke loose.  At the end of free range.

Sharone and Pippi flew into a fight that scared the you-know-what out of me.  I was sure it was going to be to the death.  Thank goodness Rick was able to catch Pippi with the use of a towel and we put him in isolation time out (aka the porch) until bedtime.  When he joined the group to go to bed, there was no further fighting nor has there been any since.  Had to be territorial behavior over the new girls.

And then we have three relatively passive, though noisy, donks.  A morning casual amble.

 

New Beauties Arrive

 In this time of everyone with two square feet of land deciding they need hens, chicken life gets a bit complicated.

Because our two roos have favorite girls to romance, and back feathers are disappearing, I decided it was time to add to the flock.  Give the boys some new pretty ladies to cozy up to.  I asked three people with chickens if they wanted to re-home any of the older girls, no older than three years.

Nope.

Step 2, put a post out on a local chicken FB group.  One woman I'm familiar with said she had some 1-yr olds, barnyard mix, that would cost $25 per bird.  Are you out of your mind, lady??  I've never paid close to that and I have to believe it's all due to the cost of eggs and the world becoming chicken farmers.

Received a couple more responses and I was on the verge of getting more details on one when a woman piped up and said she had three 2-3 year olds she'd part with - for free.  Now we're talking!

Let me introduce you to the beauties.

 Tentative names:  the Rhode Island Red is a drama queen so she's Queenie.  The Black Australorp is Joelle and the Plymouth Blue Rock is Mitzi.  

They've been segregated since they arrived on Thursday the 22nd but everyone needs more room so tomorrow the yellow door is flung open and they'll intermingle for the first time during free range.  Gives the new girls space to flee when they get harassed and it's a sure thing they will be.

And Pippi, the sex fiend will probably be the first to introduce himself.  Lordy...

Here they vocalize with the song of their people.

Oh, and we finally got the saddle pad adjusted for the little white girl so it stays on.  She was not happy with it initially, but I have to believe that little back that's now protected is happier.

Habits Are Hard To Break

 This year was a bit amazing.  I let the donkeys out on pasture the end of April.  That has never happened before.  The norm is mid to late May.  Wow...
Of course the donks think this is as it should be.

Every time I open the pasture gate, their heads go down immediately.  They feel compelled to start munching at the same spot every day.  Of course in a bit they spread out, but those first minutes follow the unwritten rule.

Same goes for the clucks.  They know I usually open the porch door first so it is the gathering place.  Yes, they know when it's around free range time.  

This group of girls don't seem to spend afternoon nap time (after free range) in the run.  Quite interesting.  Previously the girls would nest in the dirt or on the ladder and take a siesta.  I'm not seeing it now.

 You may have noticed one of the little white girls has on her saddle pad but the other has a bald patch.  We've tried twice to get a saddle pad on that sorry looking back and it comes off.  I need to figure out how to adjust the elastic without causing it to rub on her back.

Another routine -- hauling a few bales from the trailer to the barn.  We've done it so many times we have our roles sorted.

This is still last year's hay and it's a bit sorry looking.  The donkeys will be thrilled when new first cutting comes in.