Well, like I figured, we lost Ginger today. She was the most beautiful of our chickens and the friendliest. I loved to feed her.
My chicken friend.
And she was an amazing egg generator. Once she started, she laid 6 eggs a week. They were huge and dark brown. That huge amount of egg laying was probably her downfall, since her breed is prone to egg issues.
She had such beautiful feathers.
Part of ranch life is that there’s a lot of death. But I can still salute the fallen. I’ll miss our Ginger, even if I only had her 6 months.
This started last night. When I came home, my normally energetic hen, Ginger, was not herself. She was listless and full. She even let me pick her up and hold her.
I was immediately worried she had a reproductive problem, since the high egg-production breeds get them. when I set her down, Clarence, the large Rhode Island Red rooster, got on her and would not stop. She didn’t seem to take it as well as hens usually do.
So, that was it for Clarence, and he is now a free-range guard rooster. Thanks to Chris for getting him out.
Let me in!
When I got home today, Ginger was the same, and had not laid an egg. I decided to put her in the old guinea cage where she will be safe from Bruce (who is not very into the ladies yet).
As I went to move her, damned Clarence busted into the pen. I hadn’t closed the door well enough. He immediately jumped on Ginger and she let out a horrible sound. I dove for Clarence, once more forgetting that there is sharp wire partway down the opening between pens.
It’s blurry, but that’s my hair on that metal. We will fix this issue.
After I scraped my head open, I tossed Clarence out rather unprofessionally. I was pretty mad. But, I got Ginger in the pen with food and water, so no one can pester her. I’m guessing she’s egg bound or something. I have no way to help.
Fancy Pants is checking up on her coop buddy.
Clarence has water and food, plus an endless supply of grasshoppers, so he’ll be fine. There’s even a coop for him at night.
Since he flies well, I’m not too worried about him.
Gratuitous picture of the black and white chickens.
And I got the blood out of my hair. The wound was not fatal! Later, I slammed a gate on myself. Stress does make you clumsy, I think.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Lots going on in our little ranch village. [WARNING PHOTO OF DEAD ANIMAL TO FOLLOW]
First, when I came home yesterday afternoon after writing my magnum opus about my mother, there were vultures sitting on our “barn” container. I asked Lee’s brother, but he hadn’t gone over to check on it, so I did. Well, one potential bird killer has been eliminated from the area.
Here’s another post high on imagery and low on content. Because I’ve been out as late as possible lately working with the horses, and because the dusty air has made for such pretty sunsets, I decided to do a fun exercise and take pictures of the barn residents and caretakers last night. Have fun with moody lighting and sweaty masked caretakers.
Excited about photo time.
Sunset and horse and donkey butts.
Hungry Apache.
Very clean Fiona.
Suna unable to get the light adjusted. But cute sloth mask.
Big Red insisted on her own photo. So dramatic.
Socially distant Sara, with Spice and Lakota.
This is how you have fun in the hot Texas summer of 2020.
Allow me to share some bird portraits, along with some brief observations. Chickens really remind me of cats.
Example chickens. Bruce, Hedy, Springsteen, and Patty in the rear.
How? Well, they like to chase things and pounce on them. For chickens, it’s bugs.
Fancy Pants, a Cochin hen, in pursuit.
They also like to rest all curled up with their feet under them (I can’t get a photo of this, because they get up when I approach).
Bertie Lee, a barred rock, is brave. She’s not afraid of her shadow nor me. One day she flew right up to me to get to a bag of treats I had.
The main reason chickens remind me of cats, though, is that their owners find them incredibly cute and fascinating, even though they only have one rather vacant facial expression.
Hedy, an Ancona hen. She says she likes her look and she’s sticking with it.
They all just give you a dinosaur stare.
Ginger is our egg factory, an ISA Brown. She’s also very friendly, even with those dinosaur eyes.
Like cats, they come in many colors but are hard to tell apart. To me, all striped or black cats look the same. Apologies to cat lovers who see many expressions in their kitties.
The good thing about Easter Eggers, like Bruce, is they all look different. Thank goodness. One of him is plenty.
Oh! Let me interject that Kathleen got the game camera working, and it ran last night. I hope all we see is chickens and maybe cows.
The game cam is camouflage, so it’s invisible, right?
I’m glad the guineas are free now. They are so dang fast that they can now escape any attacker.
We lived! And we are fast. These are the Gray One and the Brown One. Trying not to get attached.
Nonetheless, the chickens entertain me a lot. I loved watching them eat popcorn and cantaloupe last night. And the guineas learned to eat from my hand!
Bruce looks pretty funny with his head in the feeder, too.
Cats are easier to care for and less likely to be eaten by owls or raccoons, but since I can’t have cats (Lee has an allergy), I’ll enjoy these ladies and gentlemen.
Another view of Hedy. Same expression. But what an attractive bird.
Sigh, we only have two guineas left, but they are big enough to do okay in the main pen. So, today my sister was here for dinner and got to see them enjoy their first taste of freedom. It’s fun to share bird stuff with her.
Fancy Pants still knows she’s the queen. For such a bulky gal, she can really catch grasshoppers.
At first they ignored the open door. They’d just gotten fed, after all. Then they hopped around and got confused when Hedy went in to check on their food. Of course, I was watching too hard to remember to take pictures.
Finally, the gray one went out. Then she went back in. They did that a couple of times when they realized there was some scratch on the ground.
The first guinea is on the branch.
Suddenly, there was a frenzy. The brown one flew across the pen and landed on the branch. The gray one looked confused, then dashed over to join its remaining buddy, knocking a couple hens off.
Get out of the way, hens.
I think they will be okay. Now if anything tries to go after them, they can get away. I do hope that trap catches something other than Vlassic or Gracie, though.
Two guineas and poor Henley, trying to roost. Gracie is trying to find that delicious tuna she smells in the raccoon trap.
As hard as it is to find equilibrium these days, I’ve always found my bird watching greatly helpful. Birds just keep going, breeding, eating, being silly. Here are today’s examples.
Finch Family Time
You can’t get close enough to us to get a good picture, Suna!
Over at the Hermit Haus/former church office, I’ve been watching all the birds raising families. The mockingbirds have moved on, but the house finches are doggedly determined to produce offspring in the carport. They built one nest in one corner, but lost that little one. Wah.
But, lo and behold, the second nest they built has a little fellow in it. Yesterday I got to watch it waggle its little head around as its parents looked annoyed at me from the telephone wire a few feet away.
When I arrived this morning, two finches flew away, and I realized a second pair was building a nest in yet a third corner of the driveway. I guess those little notches make house finches feel secure (and it IS hard for roaming feral cats to get to them).
The new nest, in the back of the carport, right by where I park.
Earlier Today
As you may know, the past few weeks I’ve been going over to the sad, grass-less horse pen to give Fiona and Apache hay to tide them over until their evening feeding. Well, Big Red, the only hen remaining from my previous flock, has figured this out. She didn’t get to be the only one left by being a slow learner.
Most mornings, there she is, barreling toward me, wanting her sunflower seeds NOW. The only morning she didn’t show up, Chris found that she had laid a sad egg with no shell (she’s old), which has inspired me to get her some actual chicken food this weekend to go with her seeds.
Today, she didn’t charge at me, because she was busy. I’d actually been wondering where she got her water, because I’m not sure her old water trough made from the cabin’s air conditioner runoff is still there.
I may be old, but I’m still quite flexible!
Well, there she was, on the edge of Fiona’s water bucket, drinking away. It was so cute. That inspires me to keep filling the bucket all the way up!
The water was great! Now I’m ready to have my sunflower seeds.
Once she was done, she strode right over and requested her morning ration. I just love that hen.
I’m sending love and hopes for understanding for each of us. Remember, everyone you meet is pretty stressed out right now and probably not at their best.
I hope all of you who celebrate Independence Day in The US have a safe and fun holiday. And now for the news update.
Guinea Drama Part 2
I went out to feed the birds yesterday, and lo and behold, there were only five guinea keats. I fed them and was confused. So when Chris got home, I asked if we weren’t supposed to have seven. He said yep. Crap.
I then looked more carefully at their cage. Since it got put in the chicken pen, it’s been on grass. That made what WERE small holes into bigger holes. Two of the little dickenses had escaped.
The five remaining ones, nicely arranged.
About that time, Alfred skipped by looking very happy. Well, there was one keat. We still haven’t found the other.
Henhouse Happiness
As we were standing around lamenting the loss of the guinea fowl, Lee asked when we could combine the two chicken groups. I said now, I guess. So everyone is together now.
We’re taking over!
The older ones definitely are the bosses, but they aren’t attacking or anything, other than Clarence, showing what a manly rooster he is. He and Bruce are okay.
Gracie wanted to help Bertie and Ginger eat grass.
This means we can add our new nesting boxes and expand the run some more. We’re working on that, and more shade, today.
The new hens clustered for a while but it’s better now.
How’s Apache, You Ask?
I’ve been walking him a little bit every day. Today Chris came over to observe his gait, and we are pleased to report he’s walking pretty normally.
Grass! Yay!
So we let him and Fiona enjoy some green grass and loving for a while. They’re so good, just relaxing with us.
Happy to be out of that pen.
And you can sure tell Apache has lost weight. That’s one fine butt with no belly showing through!
His best side?
And of course we need to end with the cutest thing ever.
Ah, ranching. It’s never dull. So, a couple of nights ago, something got into the guinea pen and did away with two light ones and one dark one. Damn.
It’s a real murder mystery, because whatever it was got into the pen somehow and broke their necks. One’s head was out of the chicken wire, but the rest weren’t. It’s as if something got them but couldn’t get them out!
They were way off the ground!
Whatever it was either had to climb up high to get in, or fly, because they were on a shipping crate. And the holes in their cage were small.
In any case, they gave up, but left a scent that the dogs all smelled, especially Gracie that morning.
We like the new water fountain!
The panicked flock is now well inside the chicken run, where Bruce is guarding them, along with his gals. They are happy to have grass and bugs to enjoy, and they can bond with the chickens.
Thanks for our new digs!
Those are all fine. Clarence is very happy now, and filling out nicely. His green tail feathers are so pretty.
Clarence the cockerel
The old ones do seem okay with their dude now.
We want to go out and chase grasshoppers. Even that big new interloper.
The new ones are getting more and more accustomed to us feeding and coming in. They run around after bugs and away from Bruce.
Bruce corralling his gals.
They don’t eat out of my hand like the other three hens, but Patty is especially friendly. She’s also very beautiful, even though she’s still the smallest.
Pretty and friendly Patty.
We hope to finish their nest boxes soon, since they are maturing, and to join the two runs. Next is another expansion. Chicken World will be glorious.
You just want to paint those nails! Pandemic activity!
The accompanying text is organized in a fun and interesting way, where slowly but surely, you’re able to learn all about how birds “work,” mentally and physically. I learned something new on nearly every page, and I thought I knew quite a bit about birds! There are many fascinating diagrams of how birds fly, digest food, lay eggs, and so much more, too.
It’s fun to learn the difference between birds whose eggs hatch fully able to get around and do things (precocial), like chickens, and birds whose eggs hatch all naked and vulnerable (altricial), like purple martins (photo below is from a Master Naturalist blog post I just sent out, by my friend Donna).
These little dudes can’t do much other than open their mouths and ask for food.
A sample page, showing how pelicans catch fish. It’s not how you imagined, I’m guessing, unless you’re an ornithologist.
I spent a long time just looking at the illustrations, and plan to keep the book out on the coffee table, so I can leaf through it when I need some inspiration. I can see many other uses for the book. It would be fun to share with younger folks, who can look at the pictures while an adult tells them how birds sing or how a woodpecker keeps from getting concussions while pecking. If I had grandchildren, that’s what I’d do!
Now, this isn’t a comprehensive guide to the birds of North America. Sibley chose common birds seen throughout the region as exemplars of various bird traits, though he did do his best to show examples of each type of bird, from water birds to songbirds. If you want ALL the birds, buy one of his guides. But to learn how birds “tick” from an educated lay person’s point of view AND enjoy some amazing artwork, you cannot go wrong with What It’s Like to Be a Bird.
The Hermits' Rest 