Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

When I was a kid someone sent me a birthday card that said:
Why did the chicken cross the road?
To meet his friend, Gregory Peck.

Silly but I've never forgotten that.

Now I have and have had chickens and the ladies live exclusively in my back yard.  Unless, of course, I leave the gate open.  In the event of an accidentally ajar gate, the ladies high-tail it through the side yard and head for the neighbor across the street.

Why always the neighbor across the street?  Why not the neighbor to the left or right?  Always its across the street.  So, can someone please tell me...

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Helicopter Mom

On occasion I wonder.  Was it a mistake to not have children?  Should I have been a mother?  Did I miss out on something?

Over the years I have envisioned the type of mother I saw myself.  The cool mom who was strict but still fun. The mom who had clearly defined rules but a heart.  The mom who shot hoops in her work attire, sans shoes, if the kid wanted to play when I drove in the drive.

I never did have a child of my own and I do not regret that decision.  It was the right one for me.

What does all this have to do with chickens, you ask?

Recently, I have discovered my chickens do not get (what I feel) is enough free range time.  The more they free range, the healthier they will be.  The more eggs they will lay.  The less feed I need to buy. The happier they will be.  The more content the flock.  And who doesn't want a happy family?

Why do they not get enough free range time?  It appears I am not the cool mom.  I am the helicopter mom.

My chickens, up until recently, could not free range with out supervision.  If I was not out with them then my husband was on duty. We tag-teamed when necessary. Our Belgian Shepard was used as a very temporary chicken sitter.  Big dog was in charge during bathroom breaks.  If I was "On Duty" or my husband or big dog, nothing could happen. No hawks, no snakes, no possum.  The ladies were safe.

Its time to let go.  Its time to park the helicopter on the pad and go in the house.  Time to go on about my day.  The ladies are fine on their own in their fenced back yard with their Mack-daddy coup and run.

Today they have been out since dawn.  I have peeked out the window.  I have ran errands.  I have thrown them a snack and watched them run for cover during a big rain.  The helicopter is in park.  The girls are one their own and doing fine.

But the big dog does still get to play chicken sitter...

Scrambled Eggs with Crunchy topping

Breakfast on the Patio

After a lovely rain the ladies took their yogurt breakfast on the patio.  Love their little yogurt coated beaks.  Who knew this would be such a treat.
Staring:  Fran, Felicia and Marie.  Additional appearances by Lois (yellow tag) and Delores (Blue tag)

Natura's Chicken Coop with a View - Other Animals (Google Affiliate Ad)

And Then There Were Five

Last week we lost our beautiful Bard Rock.

While the only details I am willing to give are that the untimely event was thankfully, fast and hopefully, painless to lovely Betty, I am still trying to come to terms with and make sense of her sudden death.

For the "farmers" out there and the non-chicken people, the sight of me in my backyard in total distraught over a dead chicken probably seems ridiculous.  But, there I was, standing in my backyard holding my lifeless Bard Rock and crying like a baby.  Her death seemed senseless.  Her death seemed mysterious.  Her death seemed useless.  And I was speechless.

Last week we lost our beautiful Bard Rock chicken.  While the death still seems mysterious, senseless and unwanted, I am have come to terms with its usefulness.

It feels quite odd for me to describe a death as useful but in a way the loss of the Bard Rock has helped the flock.  While I thought of her as the one holding the flock together, her willingness to share time separately between the thee Buffs and the two Dominiques was keeping them apart.  In the week plus since her passing our two young Dominiques have really come into their own.  Both once shy and only willing to hang with the Bard are now out and about with the other hens.  Both has lost their irrational fear.  Both have grown up a lot in a very short time.

We miss Bard Rock Betty but the loss has allowed for growth and removed a sub-set of hens.  The flock is a complete and single set.

The Pecking Order Or When Doves Cry

Since childhood I think I have understood the very basics of the Pecking Order.  It seems pretty self-explanatory.  Pecking is involved which, in turn, creates some time of order.  At least this is what I believe my 7 yr old self would have agreed to.  Now in my 40's, I'm still pretty sure that holds true.

As baby chicks there doesn't seems to be any pecking order.  As baby chicks they barely knew how to peck, let alone take that skill out on a sibling for a more advanced status in the flock.  In the first few weeks it seemed everyone was on the same level playing field.

Time marched on for the chicks and in the process a new sense of self for each of my feathered babies.  While there still was no "pecking" order among the Buff's, there did seem to be a hierarchy of sorts.  Felicia was the brave chicken willing to explore.  Fran and Marie would follow never straying from the flock.

At three weeks of age we upset the delicate chick balance and bring in two day old Dominiques, Lois and Deolores.  At week four, in comes two day old Bard Rock Betty.  This is where we see the beginning of a Pecking Order or just plain sibling rivalry.  Either way, the Buffs were quite content tormenting their younger peeps, forcing the "newbies" to take up residence in their own customized incubator.  (And yes, each group was housed in my home office for six weeks while their coop was being constructed)

Once all six ladies made their move into the outside world there was a bit of scuffling and posing for their place in the flock.  There was chasing and posturing.  Squawking and flapping.  It was all pretty short lived.  We breathed a sigh of relief and wrongly assumed it was over. 

Here we are at weeks 21, 18 & 17.

The apple cart has turned over yet again and we are establishing yet a New Order.    Big no longer means best.  Our quiet little buff, Marie has taken charge.

Marie has established her voice.  Literally.  She clucks.  She clucks and she means it and if you are in the flock you darn well better listen.  She clucks.  She flaps her wings.  She half runs, half flies to let everyone know who is boss.  Everyone, including the neighborhood doves who occasionally stop by at the feeder.  Heaven forbid they land in the grass or they get a piece of Marie's mind and the flailing, flapping spectacle we have come to love.

Marie, top dog

So Marie is on top for now.  Felicia and Fran fall next in the pecking line.  Surprisingly, the youngest, Betty is in that center mix.  She doesn't challenge but she is not afraid to muscle in during treat time and get her share of the goods.  At the bottom of the chicken pile are the sweet little Lois and Dolores.  Neither girl is willing to get in anyone's way or fight for a treat.  They wait their turn in the back, hoping for an opening.  I always make sure they get in.  No chicken left behind.

On a side note, last night, after the treats had been doled out and the ladies went about their pecking and bug excavating, Dolores came over to me.  bottom of the pecking order, Dolores.  She let me pick her up and she sat on my lap.  She just sat.  There is something about the underdog.  The underchicken.  My heart melted.

Meet The Ladies

It seems I have been remiss in properly introducing the ladies of our lives.  For that I apologize.

The Buffs are now at week 21 and we are hoping for eggs in the very near future but we shall see.  Though I try for the "no pressure" approach, I am trying to encourage through opening up the nesting boxes and "hinting" with a few faux plastic eggs.

The 21 week old Buff Orpintons.
Fran, Marie and Felicia

Bard Rock Betty (18 weeks) enjoying some yogurt while Lois and Marie wait for a peck.

Delores fanning her tail feathers. 

Marie LOVES her yogurt snack

Delores and Lois interrupted from bug hunting.  They are now 19 weeks.

Betty enjoying the garden

Marie has really grown into that lovely comb

Everyday these ladies surprise and delight me.

Week 21 - Our First Cluck

It happened tonight.  

My precious little buff orpington, Marie, clucked!!!

It was a real cluck!  She meant it! 

It IS the little things...

Miss Marie.  First to cluck

Key West Coop DeVille, a true LABOR of love

Bringing baby chicks into our home and building them their own place has been a labor of love.  Did I mention LABOR of love.  Lots and lots of labor and they better love it!

Somewhere a long the way I convinced my adoring husband that we needed chickens.  We needed little baby chickens that we could nurture and love and watch grow into stunning hens who would, without question and lovingly, provide us with breakfast (eggs).

Now, if you are going to have chickens you are going to have to have a coop.  Sounds easy enough.  If I want something unusual or out of the ordinary I do the expected.  I GOOGLE it.  And I did.  I GOOGLED coop after coop after coop.  Coops on wheels, ready made coops, easy to assemble coops, large coops, small coops, plastic coops, nuclear Holocaust-Safe coops.  I saw it all.

Somewhere a long the way my adoring husband convinced me that we needed to build our own coop.  We could build it cheaper and bigger and exactly the way we want it, he said.

Our efforts have created Key West Coop DeVille.  Watch as it all comes together.