arrivals and plans

My nest box and my feeder have arrived.  Planning perhaps a simple coop.   Might talk to husband about a temporary "fence" between the driveway and the chicken area--just some type of barrier to keep out any marauding dogs, so the chickens can have a little peace when they're yardbirds.  I'm less worried about 'possums, raccoons, and cats.  They exist, but big hens are somewhat fearsome to smaller predators who might want to make them dinner.  We shall see.

The new chickens are likely to be Red Star (red sex-link) hens.  Cute new redhead residents.

Hen cave flooring coming along.  Still henless, for now.

Sad end for one of the 'hood chickens

Next door neighbor told me he saw a neighborhood chicken (he thought it was Dorothy, but she hasn't been around....might have been Sophia), floppy dead and hanging from a nice neighborhood dog's mouth today.  Don't know if that dog killed the chicken, or just found it after something else did.  That dog has always been very sweet.  Doesn't mean he might not be capable of bird killing, but he's an old dog at this point, and I've never known him to not be very sweet and gentle.

Anyway, a sad end for one of my biddie buddies.  She'll be missed.

A nest box for my soon to be hens

I got my soon to be girls a cheap, simple nest box.  There are all kinds of various choices, most are more than I'm interested in spending.  This one is actually meant to be inside a coop, but I'll probably put this on some sort of stand to get it up off the ground and keep it dry, and will place it somewhere under the front stairs, aka the hen cave.  Will likely go ahead and put some paint or varnish on it after it arrives, to protect it from weather and poop.  And then get some shavings to line it.

From my reading, it appears hens are perfectly happy to share.  You don't need to provide each with its own nest box.  AND, an interesting thing I learned is you can teach a hen to lay somewhere by using a fake egg.  Even one of those plastic easter eggs or a golf ball.  How funny is that?

Update:  We just got a gully washer, so I went to do some hen cave research about water issues.  Gully washers produce temporary flooding.  The hen cave brick patio I built gives the chickens a place to stay dry.  A teensy bit of dripping from the stairs, but most of the water is flooding water, not dripping or blowing water.  There's a place along the wall of the house that stays entirely dry, even from blowing rain, so we should shoot to "hang" my nest box there.  Husband said when nest box arrives, he'll do a few quick presto chang-os to it, and we can probably put a couple hooks in the wall to hang it from. And I'll varnish it for good measure.  My aim is to hang it where wetness won't get it, but I want it to be removable so I can clean it as necessary.  It'll probably have pine shavings in it as nesting material.  

Readying the hen cave for new occupants

So the hens don't walk in their pan (and poop in their pan), I got a covered feeder.  It says the pointy top keeps them from deciding to sit on the lid, and this feeder holds about 16 pounds of chicken feed, so you don't have to refill their dish nearly so often.  I have a waterer too, which has made an appearance in other pictures.

I've already named the new hens I don't even have yet.  Mae and Lena.  Hope Mae and Lena like red.  This feeder is really red.

This is essentially what Lena and Mae will look like.  I think they are Red Sex-link chickens, also known as Red Star chickens.  I'm not 100% certain on that, but from my combing chick lit, that's my best guess.

In the meantime...

...there are always kitty doings......

Even wild girls eventually pass out.....

Birdie babble will be back

I've taken my roosters (oh phooey) to the feed store now.  Since there's infrastructure work going on on my block, and my yard and sidewalk are completely torn up with large equipment and dump trucks etc etc all coming back next week, I'm going to hold off at least a week on getting any real hens.

I think I may get just 2 hens, and the feed store has them clearly identified as boy or girl.  No need for a large flock, and they can keep each other company.

Now back to thinking up names I guess.  Hmmm.....

By the way, the little roosters did almost jump in the cat carrier.  It was suggested by a friend that I put a pan of food in there and see if they'll just walk right in.  Worked with 2 of them, and if the third hadn't jumped on top of the carrier instead of around it (he startled the other two, which then startled him too), it might have worked with all 3.  Husband caught the third for me, and off they went in the car with me to the feed store.

This is what the 3rd looked like while we were trying to catch him.  The picture is borrowed, but you get the idea....

Dude looks like a lady....

Turns out Frosty, June, Helen and Peg were actually Frank, Jack, Horace and Paul.  Sigh.

As of this morning, my remaining three "girls" have all crowed or are valiantly trying to manage a crow.  While I didn't want to look my gift hens in the mouth, it appears not a one of the original four was a hen.  I'd seen at least 2 of them wrestling daily, but a chicken forum said girls sometimes do this too, so I was in blissful denial for as long as I could be about their true gender.  No eggs will be coming from these hims.

So, later today, I'll gather them up (or at least try....good heavens....it's not like they'll just hop in a cat carrier willingly), and take them down to Wabash (the feed store).  I'm grateful Wabash is willing to take them and find them a more appropriate home.

The big question next is.....should I replace these 3 with two known hens (no guessing !!).  Wabash has some grown ones, who are clearly one gender or the other.  I'm thinking "yes", however I may wait until the contractors are finished with the infrastructure work on my block...maybe a week.  They're doing brick sidewalks and putting in sewer lines etc and there's much noise and confusion and torn-up yard etc.

To the Hen Cave, Robin !

Did some improvements to the Hen Cave this afternoon.  The thunder boomers create flooded areas temporarily, and while the chickens themselves survive, their food bowl gets flooded.

So, the Hen Cave received its own brick patio today, with a raised platform for food and water.




I'm sure we have a few more gully washers coming, so we'll see how my engineering works, and adjust accordingly.

Like my high tech pie plate hen feeder?

Only my chicks left??

Well, there's been an odd turn of events, and Dorothy is now finally gone.  Here is my best guess.  The place the 'neighborhood chickens' have lived is owned by a guy.  But one evening earlier this week, a lady with an English accent saw me on my porch watching my chickens, and she asked me if I have seen hers.  I told her indeed I'd made friends of hers, and liked the black one especially (the one I call Dorothy).

I saw what appeared to be someone moving in or out at that house recently, and all of a sudden that yard has cleaned up greatly.  My best guess is that the owner rented it out for a couple of years or something maybe, and perhaps the woman (who I've never seen prior to that evening) might have been a renter??

And perhaps she's now moved on, and taken what was left of the flock with her?  All guesses.  I'm just sad Dorothy isn't around anymore.  She was my pal.

Cecil B deMize, I's ready for my close-up

June says "Dis is me, primping and preparing for my portrait."  A girl's gotta fluff her wings.





" See, I a pretty girl".

World's foremost recyclers

Gotta give the girls credit.  They can turn a cup o' seed into an impressive amount of fertilizer.

Copious caca, mess a manure, bounteous buffalo chips, extensive excrement, generous guano, plentitudinous poop, major meadow muffins, no-end night soil.

All well and good in the gardens and grass.  Not quite so welcome when they sneak a visit to the front stairs at night :-\

I have found a perfect turd tool though, for just such occasions.  A little paint scraper works wonders.  The girls provide hooey with heft, so it's eminently scrapeable, right off into the grass.  All's well that, well, ends well.

Itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka....oh, no swimsuit....

"June, I think this may be a hot tub."









"But, hey, Peg, there's gunk and tadpoles.....I think we could find a snack in here !"

Mama is home this week...

....and can tend to our every need.  So, how come she invited these guys to wake us up, and then dig up our yard?  Harumph !

We took cover in the bananas.  Hope they aren't going to dig this up too !

Score !!!

June says:

"Helen, Peg, check this out....we scored digs with a POOL !".