I may have mentioned that we got a game cam to check on what was attacking the birds. We finally got it going and ran it for a few days.
This shows me and Kathleen sneaking up on the chickens.
I have to say I’m impressed with the quality of the pictures you get. I didn’t save many, but I’ll get more tomorrow. The fun ones are giant chicken heads and flying/stretching. Look at Gray Greta!
Look at my wingzzzz!Wow. This is late at night.
We did get one intruder.
Chris checking for skunks at 9:14 pm. Eek!
You can see they all line up on one branch. Actually most night photos show Bruce on patrol. Good Bruce. I’ll get more to share later. But aren’t the photos good?
Stretch!
Little Rip
I was glad to see our skinny baby bull calf made it through last night. He slept a lot today, but perked up enough to play with Gracie a bit.
Friends.
Like with a human baby, early poops and pees are important. He got in the groove this evening and peed three times. That means he’s hydrated.
A calf has to go when he has to go.
The poor fellow is still a bit unsteady on his legs, so getting up or down is hard.
I was trying to lie down, but I think I’ll get back up.
He really has long legs. Kathleen spends as much time as she can with him, and he is bonding well.
Rip’s shelter.
She even made him a little shade house. Soon he will have a nice place to live, so he will be fine. Can’t wait until he meets Fiona.
That’s supposed to be to the tune of “dude looks like a lady,” which is playing in my head. You need a hen and rooster update. Of course. How are my feathered pets (I say that, because they certainly don’t earn their keep.)
Bruce and Clarence both can crow now. Bonus: you can’t hear them in the house. Look how pretty his tail feathers are, too.
I still have just one chicken laying eggs. Good ole Bertie Lee. Not a great rate of production.
Leave me alone. I’m eating worms (Bertie is the striped one.)
Oddly enough, the fake egg in the nest box disappeared. I do hope a snake didn’t eat it. Chris put bright yellow golf balls in the nest boxes.
Sure, those look like eggs.
The other fowl are all growing away, but no more eggs. Springsteen is developing a comb and wattles than are like black cherry in color. They’re lovely.
I feel pretty.
Even Patti is growing something on her head. Maybe a rose comb?
There’s something up there. And baby wattles.
And Gray Greta, the only remaining guinea fowl, is growing in “her” (who knows) wattles.
See, I have wattles. I also hate skunks.
One issue may be that Hedy the Ancona is not a hen. I guess that makes them more of a Hedley. There are beautiful green tail feathers, and I’ve seen them try to mate. I’ve also seen Bruce jump them. So, gender neutral pronouns for Hedley!
What? I’m not pretty?I was born this way.
We have been working for more chicken safety, so soon we can try for more. With now perhaps three roosters, the ratio is wrong. Clarence is still living outside, to his utter annoyance. So at least the 5 hens only have 2 roosters after them. Let’s hope we can fix that!
Let me in. I’m wanting to do my rooster duty.
And good news, Rip made it through the night! Kathleen is a good calf mama.
I’m still cute.
Let’s hope Miss Fancy Pants starts laying again one day. She still visits the hen house often.
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.
So, how did that chicken coop project we started yesterday come out?
Well, while I was crackling the doors, Chris finished the roof and ventilation area.
Little coop.
Of course, it needed steps up to the roosting and nesting area.
We need stairs!
I got busy using up the extra white paint to cover most of the wood surfaces. I left a little paint free to look rustic. I may paint it later. Maybe red!
The nest box is painted well, since water will drip on it.
While I painted, the ramp got built, so I painted that last. It’s just got to dry then we can set it up.
Happy hen house.
Next thing I knew, Chris was working with PVC pipe. I looked up and, boom, he’d made chicken feeders he’d seen on Pinterest.
Quick and easy project!
We took them over and set them up on one of the few walls that aren’t moving soon. I put food in them (and the dispenser worked!).
This is interesting! Clarence is more interested in the bug-filled dirt where the old feeder was.
Next, we herded all the chickens into the feeding area. They found the water holder then noticed the food dish had moved. It only took a minute or two for Steen to figure out the feeder. Others joined in!
There’s food in there!
Good news at last: Fancy Pants MAY be getting les broody. We are seeing her out more and more. Sigh. Just in time for fertilized eggs. Ha!
The Hermits' Rest 