Hens

Our chickie babies are adorable. Their set up?

Not so much.

The cuties live in our breezeway, that is basically a covered walkway.  The walls are left with a gap at the floor for run off when it rains.  But also for old air to whoosh in when temps drop.  With a forecast of blizzard strength winds and cold coming through, I had to protect those babies.  While they are tiny, they need to be kept at 90 degrees and drafts can kill them.

So the gaps got pool noodles from Dollar Tree stuffed into them.

Which helped a lot, but the back door had no weather stripping and we were expecting 50-60 mph winds.

That sounds a bit drafty, huh?

So I gathered up my precious plastic bags (our town passed a law not allowing them in stores.  But I find them so useful for many things, that I’ve hoarded a few).  In bigger gaps, I used some bubble wrap, but in most spots the bags were ideal.  I stuffed them into the leaky areas all around the door with a butter knife.

Not pretty.

But the peeps are!

Well under their red heat lamps, they might look more demonic than pretty in photos.  
For now, they are sweet, tiny fluffs of cheeps, and I just love them to pieces.  They will eat from my hand and run up and down my arm, feeling weightless and tickley.

Fingers crossed that they stay healthy and happy.  We’ve had good luck raising babies, just to become fond of them and face heartbreak when they get slaughtered by creatures wanting a snack.

The worst part is that the wild animals massacre as many as possible.  I understand they need to eat, but why not pick off one to fill their bellies?  Why kill every bird in the yard at once and leave the carcasses behind?

This year, I bought way more birdies than we needed, hoping for safety in numbers.  The plan wasn’t to get so many, but when I was choosing those lil fluffs, I went a tad bonkers, wanting two of each kind along with the planned dozen we had come to get.  Let’s hope we can raise them to be as sweet and friendly as our last girls and that we can do a better job of keeping them safe.

We have new babies!

There is a slight chance that I got a teensy bit carried away when choosing them. I was told to get a dozen or so.

I leaned more toward the “so”.

How could I resist?

When I mentioned to Rich that a friend told me she had seen chickens happily swinging at a botanical park, he went right outside and made one for our sweet hens.

So far they aren’t impressed, interested, or even intrigued by the idea.  I heard you need to give them time.  My thoughts are that when they are in their enclosed area or the coop, it would get more attention because they would have less entertainment in those spaces.

This is set up in the open fence where they are constantly busy, scratching and looking for tasty treats, so they are just way, way too busy to kick back and relax on the swing.  

We will see how it goes.  We like it set up where we can watch them, but this might not be the spot it needs to be in.  I’ll update you as spring progresses and we are outside more to observe.  

Gosh, is spring really ever coming?  This has been such a dreary month of March.  I could use a little chicken fun to brighten my day.  Get swinging, little ladies!

This time of year, once the family has packed up themselves and their gifts and headed home, I am itching to pack up the holiday Foof that fills my home and get my halls undecked.  I am ready to enjoy simple surroundings with items like this elegant bloom.

The opulence in the cottage makes me so happy, until it doesn’t and all of a sudden, it is clutter to me.  Then I right then, right now, want it gone.  Typically, Sugarwings wants me to leave it up til after New Years so I do. Right now, I’m busy with getting ready for the next Good Juju sale, so I am honoring the grand fairy’s request and keeping my priorities in line by making price tags instead of hauling tubs of glittering pretties to the closet.

A compromise in starting the undecking was to clear out the gingerbread houses. When the kids were little, we’d take them to the woods for the fairies to live in.  Now, I had them over to the hens to peck at and enjoy.

I’m not sure how much they will eat, but they do enjoy the novelty.

And I enjoy having just a little less stuff on my dining table.

If you are squeamish, you shouldn’t look at these pictures.  I’ll tell the story, then leave a gap and have pics at the end.

Poor Queenie, the other chickens pecked her head raw after her foot was injured and she was weak.   I named her that because they messed up the crown of her head, and also in honor of the passing of Queen Elizabeth.

We were babysitting the neighbors flock while they were away.  This young chicken got her foot stuck in the fence and hurt it.  Rich got her down and put her back in with the others after contacting her family.  But wanted to put her out of her misery, he did not think she would make it.

The next day, she was discovered with the horrible wounds from hen pecks, and he brought her home, made a special pen for her.   She was hand fed, and pampered.  Her poor leg was swollen three times it’s normal size and her head was raw.  Rich, again thought she might need to be euthanized.  But I thought that her eyes were bright and inquisitive, and she seemed happy for attention.

Then, a door was left ajar, I think it might’ve been me.  Sugar got out, knocked over the pen and ran away with Queenie.  The poor bird was terrified and my husband was crushed. He cares so deeply for our pets, and any small creatures he finds around here.  He and Sugarwings had a big adventure with a box turtle named Sonny just the other day, and they still talk about that rescued turtle like he was part of the family.

Once again, I looked into Queenie’s eyes.  They still seemed bright and friendly, even though her body was limp.  There was no blood on her, just a lot of dog slobber and a few missing feathers.  Rich felt little hope for her after pulling her out of the dog’s mouth, but he set her special pen back up and he caught her a few grasshoppers.  She has an appetite, and he has been cutting up pork chops, fresh veggies and other treats for her, which she seems to like.

I think she will make it.  Our friends do not want her back, but I don’t know if our flock will accept her either, she might need to be someone’s single chicken as a pet.  Other hens always seem to bully the younger, weaker girls.  Until her head heals and re-feathers itself, and she can walk again, we will keep her safe and segregated.  

I think she is a lovely bird, with her jet black feathers and sparkling, black eyes.  All of our other ladies have orange or yellow eyes, these shiny, black ones are lovely.  And she seems to like us.  Fingers crossed that this sweet little gal does okay!

See what I mean?  What a pretty face she has! Even with her injuries, she is a very, pretty chicken.