It’s what I do

January 2, 2012January 2, 201222 Comments

A coworker once asked me about my weekend, which launched me into a ~~conversation~~ monologue about my chickens. I told her my husband and I had built some security into their run because of hawk problems, and that I had mucked out the chicken palace. At that last comment she snorted incredulously,

“You enjoy doing that?“

to which I replied,

“Well, yes I do.”

My chickens and geese depend on me. I get up, don my “Fashionable attire for feeding chickens and geese on COLD mornings,” brace myself, walk out the door, and set to work.

The routine is the same, it never varies by much except for how cold it gets. Today the ice on the chicken’s water is only the thickness of cardboard. Once last year it was over an inch thick and I had to go out and crack it again midday! This morning I easily break it with my wellies, and then reaching in with my ungloved hand, I lift out the shards. My fingers burn from the icy chill. Quickly I dry them on my wooly robe, and just as quickly reglove them.

Next, I let out Quasimodo and Miss Dixie, check for an egg, and grab their food dispenser to take with me to the barn for refilling.

Quasi is my special needs silky rooster. He has curled toes, that make him hobble and lurch, and he’s blind in one eye from an infection he picked up as a baby chick. Miss Dixie is a mixed breed, little white splash hen (Blue Andalusian and Buff Polish) who thinks that Quasimodo is the perfect mate… she can say,

“No, thank you dear.”

and there is nothing he can do about it.

Now, the fun begins! It’s off to the barn to let out the geese. As I near the roll up door I hear them becoming animated. I try to sneak up on them every morning, but their little grunting noises tell me that they’ve once again heard the gate latch. I approach the door and call out,

“Good morning duck-butts, good morning!”

Which gets them knocking on the metal door with their beaks in response. Huey stretches his long neck under the door and rushes out, next comes Polly who strolls out, stops, and taking a moment, looks up at me as if to say,

“Good morning to you Missus!” and “What took you so long?”

Last is Little Dorrit, who once everyone else is out of the way, begins flapping her wings and honking as she becomes airborne! This little morning flight gets her four feet up out of the straw and six feet out of the door. When she lands she takes off running and honking to catch up. I listen as her little flappy feet slap the frozen mud and I realize I’m smiling.

Last stop, the chicken palace. I open the gate to the run and hear them all cooing inside. Someone has gotten into someone else’ space in the door lineup inside the coop. Squawking and rustling ensues. I call out…

“Good morning stinkies, com’on out!”

I open the coop doors and they rush, tumbling beak-over-butt-feathers to get out and find breakfast. Some days, I let them out first and when they realize the food isn’t there yet, they race back to me, and stopping they look up as if to say,

“What’s this trick? Where’s breakfast?”

I refill their food dispenser, put food into the other chicken’s feeder, check their water and then go in to check for eggs. This morning I find that there is one, freshly laid, blue-green jewel in the back nest. Reaching in I pick it up and discover that it is still warm. Removing my glove from the still frozen hand I take the egg and cradle it there. It’s heat begins thawing my fingers as I place it into my pocket. Unwilling to let go, I leave my hand there with the egg until it becomes too cool to work its magic.

Almost done! Now, returning to the little coop, I hang the newly filled feeder for them, then looking back, I check quickly to be sure I haven’t left any gates open.

Pausing before I go in, I reach back into my pocket and pull out the little egg. Looking at it I think,

“This is why I do it.”

~*~

My little reward from my girls for the time I take to keep them happy.

~*~

Ahem, if you haven’t clicked on the link to “Fashionable attire for feeding chickens and geese on COLD mornings” then you’re missing out on a rare and candid view… 😉

~*~

Like Children at the Mall

August 16, 20116 Comments

Image via Wikipedia

I imagine that most of us have stories of getting lost in the mall or department store when we were young. As children we were easily distracted from our parents warnings about getting lost, and could be stopped in an instant to look at the latest bright and shiny new toy. Then looking up we suddenly felt fear, followed by tears, and finally the joy of being reunited with our parents…

Early this morning I went out to let the geese out of the barn and being in a hurry I did not want to make a return trip to freshen up their bed. So instead I took the time to do it right then. Grabbing a flake of straw I quickly shook it out onto the remains of last nights damage. It took all of about three minutes. Then, walking out of the roll up door I see…

NOTHING.

Now the gate to the back yard and the path we take to the goose side of the world is about 20 paces. Each and every day I have to convince Polly and company to actually pass through instead of stopping to eat the goosegrass that happens to be growing nowhere else on the Farmlet but there.

(Picture compliments of Aggie Horticluture, click the photo to be taken to the site and learn more than you ever wanted to know about this species)

And so it was, that I mistakenly counted on them running to the goosegrass to keep them preoccupied while I put the fresh straw into their bed.

Silly me.

Listening I hear them out front on the lawn. They are busily grunting at each other and nibbling at some fresh new delight they have found. I walk towards them, they move further away. When advancing three more times produces the same results, I decide that divide and conquer is the best method. Circling a wide berth around them I single out Polly. Polly is so much more submissive and obedient than the Hueys.

Arms outstretched I heard her back around to the gate and watch as she casts nervous glances over her wing at the disobedient Hueys. She keeps waddling however and for her obedience I give her breakfast right away. As I turn to leave I hear some terrified squeals from the front yard. Seems that the Hueys have discovered they are lost!

I call to them, “Pip-PIP!”

Their reply in triplicate, “Honk-Honk-Honk – HEEEAH!” And although I can’t see them, I envision them running back round, wings outstretched, to find Polly and me.

Polly, on hearing the ruckus, has forgone eating for the moment and comes from behind the well house to find out what’s going on. Seeing them from across the yard she runs to them, with neck outstretched, giving a scolding and sounding eerily and every bit like your mother when you were young! The scolding elicits the same cries of relief and remorse from the Hueys, as similarly you’d have done on seeing and hearing the scolding mother gave.

When finally the scolding and remorse have subsided, the four of them turn to waddle into the goose yard and to their breakfast which is waiting.

That’s better!

~*~

Translation: “HEEEAH” is the goose equivalent of a scream. I think it is a sound that you would have to actually hear to appreciate.

Summer Sunday

August 7, 2011August 7, 20114 Comments

Sunflowers face the morning with joy,

Whilst bees forage.

Watermelons bake in the heat,

and

Polly gives me the eye

that says…

I love you,

but

where’s my pool?

And I oblige her.

~*~

Geese: my ‘epic fail’ and a happy ending!

June 20, 201112 Comments

I am a neophyte when it comes to chickens and geese. I have only been at raising poultry for three years, and while I can feel pretty successful at raising chickens (just keep those dogs at bay thank you!) well, I’ve got to admit I certainly stink at goose husbandry. What is more regrettable is the fact that I love the geese so much more than I do the chickens…

Shhhh! Now don’t you dare breathe a word of this to them, because it would certainly hurt their feelings!

Without going into heartbreaking detail I have lost, one way and another, all of Polly’s baby goslings. Yup, I lost the last one. I had just come to naming little Helena and POOF! She was out of the picture. However as heartbreaking it was for me you have to know that it was a crushing blow to Polly! She spent her whole day calling and looking for that little gosling girl to no avail and that was killing me…

I have learned that geese need companionship. They will die without it. I had to act fast for both our sakes! I quickly contacted my favorite goose lady Connie of Sassafras Valley Farm, and asked if she had a spare goose/gosling I could buy. She wrote back saying that she did! Awesome! Then I found that she lived all the way up in Missouri. That surely was not going to work (You may recall the distress that driving that far caused me when I went up to visit Jayme.). This meant I had to look local and what a surprise! Seems raising geese is on the rise here in Alabama!

And so it is I found Kim in Moulton via Craig’s List, and she had three Embden goslings for sale! Moulton was only an hour away. Hmm… Moulton vs. Missouri? No contest there! 😉 Though I am certain I would have very much enjoyed visiting with Connie on her goose farm, and who knows? I may have the opportunity someday.

And so it is that I drove to Moulton and OH-MY-GOODNESS! These goslings are positively of Baby Huey fame and proportions, and although I was told they were just over a month old, they are already half the size of Polly!

We caught the triplets, I put them into the dog crate, Kim field dressed the scratches on my arm, I paid her, and I was off. Unfortunately for me I had the dog crate in the back of the cab and not in the truck’s bed. With the temperatures in the mid to high nineties the truck bed was simply not an option, so crate and all, into the cab they went. Hopping into the cab I suddenly realized, that by the time I got home, I would certainly be suffering from the deleterious effects of the off gassing from that much goose poop! I rolled down the windows and turned the air conditioner down to arctic blast!

Do I spoil my critters?

Now I wondered what would happen when I got home… Would Polly reject the three Hueys? Would there be honking and pinching all around? I, being a world class worry wart, began to worry in earnest.

Turns out I needn’t have. Bob helped me to set the crate down and Polly came running over to see what was going on. Right away she was interested in the goslings, and they, though hot and frightened from the ride home, were definitely interested in her too. I opened the crate door. No one came out. Then Polly stuck her head inside and started a low soothing honking, almost like a whisper, and slowly the Hueys came out of the crate.

Polly was amazing! She began honking loudly and walked over to get a drink. They followed! Later at dusk I heard her honking in earnest and, worried (did I mention I am a worrier?) I ran to the window to see what was happening…

Surprisingly, she was honking ‘command’ and the three Hueys were walking in file right behind her into the barn and to bed!

Crisis averted!