Cluck cluck!

One of my favourite recent finds in the blogosphere - Rhonda, from Down to Earth - is hosting a 'kitchen table discussion' on the art of keeping chooks, and has asked for contributions from her readers. I really want to join in, but it is already terribly late (or early, depending on how you look at it) and I have vowed that I will not let the dawn find me sitting at the computer again this week! Also, most of my chicken photos are stuck on the hard drive of my old computer and currently inaccessible unless I trawl through stacks of cd archives (see previous comment about lack of time ;P)

As a result I am, with profound apologies, going to do this the easy way by *blush* linking to my own previous posts on this topic. My experiences with raising chickens are somewhat unconventional, and may be helpful to others who find themselves dealing with the unexpected. Follow the links for lots of drama and photos!

First, we have my happy happy joy joy post about welcoming eight Rhode Island Red Bantams, including the glorious rooster, Rufous, and his brave and daring harem leader, Ruby, into our lives.

Then comes tragedy, as Rufous leaves us, one cold morning. Yeti suspects that he probably died happy - from his experience working on a chicken farm, he has explained that roosters often have weak hearts and tendency to 'overexert' themselves, if you know what I mean *wink wink nudge nudge*.

All is not lost though, and in a comedy of clucky competitiveness, Ruby and Rosie save the day by ensuring that Rufous will live on in his children.

In the next long, rambling chook update, I am pregnant, working three days a week, and suddenly have to deal with predation by a stray cat we had adopted. Four chickens beheaded and the remainder of our flock brought 'inside' for safekeeping.

(PS. The environmental law case mentioned in that entry had quite a different outcome from my original optimistic expectations. On further research, I advised my solicitor friend that virgin excavated natural material was still classified as waste for the purposes of environmental planning laws, and that if the clients had not lodged a development application with council, then they were breaking the law and had no available defence. The end result was that they had to pay a hefty fine - but nowhere near as much as they would if the material dumped had included household rubbish or building materials.)

(lol... Munchkin called me in for a feed, then Wombat insisted "You stay in your bed, Mummy" so I am now finishing this before breakfast with a wriggling Wombat on my lap!)

While not technically about chickens, this entry shows the 'parrot' cage which is providing emergency housing for the chooks on our verandah (and introduces you to Mitch, my Corella, for whom the cage was originally built).

Now Wombat wants my company for breakfast, Munchkin is awake and asking for a clean nappy... blogging must wait - don't these children have any sense of priorities? oh... um... yeah... I'll be back.

OK, Munchkin is having nappy-free time and I gave Wombat a handful of pipecleaners and raided my button stash for interesting things to thread on them - that should give me a few minutes to finish this post.

Following on from the last recorded episode in the chook saga - the chooks lived in the parrot palace for a while, then we got rid of the cat who was causing the trouble and I very happily released them again... three days later, another fatality! This time, a hawk had decided to get in on the action. I tried everything I could think of to scare him off, but he perched in a tree above the pen and waited. We had cut down many of the trees within the pen (it is a large area, about 6metres square - used to be a dog run, with really high fences) to deny access to the cat, but unfortunately that gave the hawk a clear run.

Totally discouraged and busy getting ready for a baby, we moved all the chooks back onto the verandah - and there they have lived ever since. I gave them a crisper from an old fridge which I fill with dirt (and a few extra worms and bugs) for scratching. They get grain and their water is changed twice daily (I need to get them a proper waterer that they can't walk in as it gets so dirty.) We also give them a big handful of grass whenever Yeti is mowing or I am weeding. Whenever they start to get too grotty I scrape out all the material from their cage and give them fresh straw or dried grass (which they promptly kick out all over the floor.) It is SO much more work having them here, but at least they are safe - and surprisingly happy!

Towards the end of last year we had a hatching. I moved Mama hen (pretty sure it is either Ruby or Rosie, but no idea which - just know it is a very old hen) and the eggs into a smaller cage next door to the big one, and a few weeks later we had three baby chicks.


See the little one swimming in the water dish? Chicks are pretty silly. They need a big, wide, shallow dish for water that they can easily reach into but still climb out of if they fall in.



Disclaimer - don't read this paragraph while eating breakfast! I left the chicks for Mama hen to teach them how to peck and scratch, but I really should have moved them out a little sooner, as the remaining 10 eggs were mistreated - Mama hen ended up cracking a number of them open and feeding the babies on their unborn siblings.

The weather turned very cold (in November, in Australia!!!) so I brought the babies inside and lodged them in an old fish tank, with a wheat pillow for warmth (not having a suitable lamp.) This needed rewarming twice a day but was otherwise quite effective - I wrapped it in old towel that could be easily changed for washing.



They lived there for about a month. When they got too big (and the weather improved) they were moved back into the little cage and Mama hen was returned to the flock. She was immediately attacked by her companions, who seemed to feel she had been getting a better deal. Yeti said I should have completely changed everything in the cage (fresh straw, fresh food, clean dishes, new nestbox etc) and then the reintroduction would have gone unnoticed in the confusion.

I am not happy about all of this - I never expected to have chooks living IN the house! but we did what was needed to keep them alive. Although I know they don't have lice - I have checked carefully - I do know the dust and dirt they throw around is a major factor in contributing to our rodent and bug problem. Now our circumstances have settled down somewhat, Yeti has promised that their new quarters are top of his list and he is building them a tractor arrangement which NOTHING can get into! (Hope we can still collect the eggs :P) They have never been big layers (lol, being bantams!!) but we get between 3 and 5 pretty little brown eggs each week, which is enough to ensure that Wombat eats fresh, and that was my main concern as I don't want him getting commercial hormones.

Now the boys are clamouring for my attention and the chooks and parrot are squawking for their food, so I had better stop here... maybe I had better put a word limit on my future contributions to such discussions :P

Parrot Palace and Predatory Plants

A few quick photos for Michelle at Scribbit...

When Yeti builds a parrot cage, he BUILDS a parrot cage ;)

A parrot cage that in an emergency can happily house seven full-grown chooks for a few nights! I wish I had gotten a photo of the chickens all perched together on the branches - but they were quite nervous and I didn't want to disturb them with the flash.

Mitch joined our family about 4 years ago. He is a long-billed Corella, and Yeti picked him up on the side of the road after he had been hit by a car. He must have been very young as he didn't know how to eat seed at the time. I reared him on mush and trained him to eat seed and dig for grass roots - which is what that long beak is for. He was my baby - until Wombat came along, when he developed an immense case of sibling rivalry. I am applying my positive parenting practices to Mitch as well! His wing never recovered from the original accident, and he cannot fly, so he will be with us for a very long time - I believe they live for around 30 years!

And if you want to know WHY I call him the mad parrot... check out this video of Mitch playing with one of Wombat's discarded rubber teething bears!


Michelle also recently posted about her family's newest pet - a Venus Fly Trap.

With all the rain we have had lately, I was very happy to see that our own carnivorous plants are back! These are Drosera, or Sundews - variations of them grow all over the world, and I think they are gorgeous!

Unlike the closing jaws of the Fly Traps, the Sundews secrete a sweet, sticky nectar which attracts insects and then glues them in place while they are digested. (Wombat & I took these photos this morning.)

They have the prettiest, most delicate pale pink or white flowers... I will keep watching and may get lucky enough to get a photo.

Finally, here is a gratuitous photo of Wombat taking his bath turtle out to enjoy the water running into the dam. We collected so much run off in the recent storms that the dam is now full to overflowing. WOOOHOOOO! Wombat really loved stomping around in his little gumboots and listening to all the frogs... until he tried sitting down and discovered it was way too cold to be wearing soggy clothes!

I'm going cross-eyed focussing on this grindstone!

Well, folks, I have finished Civil Litigation and moved on to Trust and Office Accounting... no end in sight for me yet, though getting up at 3am to study is working reasonably - at least there are fewer distractions.

I don't think our eggs are going to hatch. Ruby is just too sporadic about sitting on them. I haven't decided whether to buy a new rooster yet, either. Yeti doesn't think Stevie is a boy, and I have read that Rhode Island Red Bantam cockerels take a long time to mature... but I don't want to buy a new rooster, have him fight with Stevie and have to separate them - I have enough to do looking after one pen of chooks and one mad parrot, I don't need the extra workload! Ruby is becoming quite a bully - every time another chook goes near her she raps it with her very sharp & pointy beak. I can't be too hard on her, though - she misses Rufous, and she is the only one laying at the moment.

Wombat has skipped a tooth! He has his four front upper teeth, and only three of the lower teeth - and he has started cutting his molars. This makes for a lot of interrupted naptimes, as the molars are quite painful and two or three seem to be erupting at once.

Those front teeth are exceedingly sharp, and I am beginning to think seriously about weaning him - when he is tired I can't get him to open his mouth wide enough and I have some very painful teeth marks at the moment. It is definitely NOT going to be easy because I still suckle him to sleep - naptimes & sleeptimes are so precious to me that I would rather put up with pain than turn them into screaming sessions that are exhausting for us both. My strategy at the moment is to switch back to drinking lite milk myself. This makes my milk more watery, and less appealing than whole cows milk, so he drinks less mummy milk, and hopefully I can gradually cut back to nothing. I would prefer to keep breastfeeding him until he was ready to stop, but I also want more kids and to be able to feed them in the future, so I can't afford too much damage now! An added bonus will hopefully be a bit of weight loss - I weigh more now than I did when I was pregnant, and the full cream milk is my major calorie intake. Of course, the lack of exercise sitting at the computer in every spare moment isn't helping.

Most panicking at the moment is the thought of the onsite school for my course. At the end of July/start of August, I have to spend 2 weeks doing exams and attending seminars at the College of Law, St Leonards. I have done some calculations, and a conservative estimate suggests it will take 3 hours each way to go from here by public transport. That means leaving before Wombat wakes up in the morning and getting home at his bedtime. Driving would be worse, considering peak hour traffic on Sydney's North Shore, my lack of experience driving in heavy traffic while under exam stress, and the fact there is no parking at the College. It would take even longer than the train. I can't possibly traumatize Wombat & myself by disappearing for two weeks, so my only option is to find somewhere in the city for Yeti, Wombat & myself to stay. This puts a lot of pressure on my 85 year old mother-in-law, but at least Yeti and Wombat could drive home every few days to check on her & help out, and we would only be a phonecall away (though it would still take a few hours to get back here in an emergency). There is also the point that accommodation in Sydney is going to cost me at least $100 a day *GULP* so when I am not frantically trying to catch up on my studies (I am running just over a week behind the timetable) I am searching the net trying to find somewhere in a nice location (preferably near a beach so Yeti & Wombat have something to do, even though it will still be winter) with good public transport to St Leonards (less than an hour, without having to change buses or trains) for a reasonable price. It also has to have space for me to study without waking Yeti & Wombat, so most hotel rooms are out. Wish me luck! It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack ;D

My sister, Steff, is now 8 months pregnant and starting to feel neglected by my continuing absence, so I will try to write quick updates more often.

Egg-specting

The chooks have all been very nervous since losing Rufous, but yesterday I think they finally started to settle down. I hope Stevie grows up quickly, because they really feel lost without a mature rooster in the group.

I thought the eggs had been abandoned, but no... we may have chicks after all!

From my reading, it is possible to collect the eggs, store them somewhere cool, and then when you have enough, pop them all under a broody hen, and as soon as they warm up, gestation starts. It then takes about 18 days until hatching.

Well, Rosie stopped sitting on the nest, but Ruby took over! She is missing Rufous the most, having been his second-in-command. She can't fill that function with Stevie (having bossed him around for so long that she finds it hard to take him seriously as leader!) His second-in-command is turning out to be the youngest hen, HennyPenny - so called because she always looked scared, like the sky was falling! The youngest rooster has been named Chicken Little for the same reason. However, HennyPenny has suddenly become brave and bossy now that Stevie is in charge (at least, a little bit more than before). This left Ruby without a job... I guess she saw the eggs sitting there and decided to take over the role of hatching Rufous' last babies ;)

Rosie wasn't too sure about this!!!
Once she realised Ruby was sitting on her eggs, she decided she wanted to sit on them again. Ruby wasn't budging, so Rosie tried to sit ON Ruby!



Eventually, Rosie managed to burrow her way underneath Ruby and take her place.



Rosie just doesn't seem to have Ruby's stubborness though. They both leave the nest to feed, and some nights neither of them have sat on it, and when I check in the morning the eggs feel quite cold, so I don't think they have actually started 'incubating' them yet. (We are having a really cold autumn so far.) After today, neither of them should be fertile any more from their matings with Rufous, so I might give them a few more days to make sure, and then start collecting any new eggs that are laid - there are eight in the nest now...

Today it is POURING with rain. I went out to check on them and found Ruby sitting happily on the nest, and Rosie on the perch supervising (this photo was taken the other day, before Rosie tried climbing in on top of Ruby, but it is exactly their position today.) Ruby is sitting on the eggs, and Rosie is supervising!



It is not the kind of day when either of them would be likely to want to leave a nice warm nest, so I am going to guess that today is the start of incubating, and keep track, just so I have a rough idea of when chickens might be due to hatch.





As for what happened to Rufous, Yeti checked him over and reported that he was strong and showed no signs of illness. His opinion, based on his years in the commercial chicken industry, is that Rufous had a heart attack while engaged in a strenuous activity (apparently that's quite common with roosters). This means his heart probably burst while making new chickens ;P no wonder the hens are upset! He ended up being quietly cremated, as Yeti was burning off a pile of fallen trees and had a nice hot fire going. I'm still going to buy him a rosebush though!

R.I.P. Rufous

Yes, that's right. Our lovely rooster, Rufous, is no more.

He passed away this morning of unknown causes.



Wombat and I went out to feed the chickens before breakfast this morning as we always do. I knew something was wrong immediately, because they weren't all waiting at the door, clucking for their food. When they heard us coming, they came out one by one and stood by the door - but Rufous was missing. Wombat seemed to know something was wrong, because he stood quietly waiting instead of chasing them around as usual. I found Rufous lying near their perch, very cold and obviously unwell. I wrapped him in my jumper and carried him (and Wombat) back inside to Yeti. While I organised a box for him by the heater, he quietly died.

It was bitterly cold last night - the first frost we have had. I think Rufous was reasonably old for a rooster (the lady I bought the chooks from did tell me that some of the hens were quite old, and I think Rufous was the same). He was also incredibly gentlemanly, and as a result, never got as much to eat as the others - I would try to throw tidbits his way to make sure he got some, but almost always he would let one of the hens or one of the three young ones, his children, snatch the food from his beak.

I'm going to miss him. He was my favourite! I loved his beautiful tail, with its sheen of green and purple, and I loved the way he bravely took care of his family in every new situation.



(that's him on the right, with Ruby on the left.) He had been molting a bit lately - I had found several wing feathers that seemed to belong to him, and I had been waiting to collect a tail feather, but it seemed he was never going to drop one. This morning when I went back to make sure all the others were ok, and to look for any sign of struggle, the only unusual thing I found was one single tail feather - perhaps it was his gift for me. I know I couldn't bear to pull one from him now. I am consoling myself by thinking that he knew he had brought his family to a safe place where they would be well looked after, and he just gave up the fight and succumbed to the cold. (I am desperately hoping he wasn't sick, because then I would have to worry about Wombat getting sick as well - especially as he has been sneezing this morning - but I hope that has more to do with him kicking off his blankets all night - I must have covered him up 10 times or more.)

The story of Rufous is not over, however. There is his son, Stevie, growing into a fine rooster who will take his father's place.



Stevie has all the makings of a wonderful pet rooster. He has a mercenary attitude to food & is very intelligent, which means he quickly worked out that letting Wombat occasionally touch his feathers means he gets a lot more to eat! I had been telling him off for being a greedy young rooster, but now I will make sure he gets as much as he wants, as he has a big job to do. The other two young ones have been named Henny Penny (for the girl) and Chicken Little (for the boy) as they both have a "the sky is falling" kind of nervousness to them - nothing at all like Stevie's brash confidence. We had been concerned that we would soon need to move Stevie and one of the hens to a new pen to give him a territory of his own, so he wouldn't fight with Rufous. Now I guess Rufous has taken that worry from us. (I certainly don't think Stevie played any part in Rufous' demise... he's not at all mature yet.)

Not only did Rufous leave Stevie to carry on, but there is (fingers crossed) another generation on the way. A week ago, Rosie started to become possessive about her eggs. She is the only hen who is laying, and when I collected her eggs, she would go scratching around looking for them. Then she started laying in the nestbox Yeti built for them, and making it obvious that she wanted to sit on them, so I have left them for her. She has laid an egg a day, and is now sitting on a clutch of four. I do hope she won't be upset by the loss of Rufous and stop nesting, as it will be lovely to have some fluffy little chicks for Wombat to watch.

Wombat does seem to be aware that Rufous isn't around any more. I told him Rufous wasn't feeling well and we were taking him in to Daddy, who would look after him. I have made sure he didn't see Rufous' body, and while we were out giving a special breakfast treat to the other chooks, I started quietly telling him that Jesus needed a really good rooster, so Rufous has gone to live with him. You can laugh at me, but Wombat is quite keen on the idea of Jesus. He often brings his bible and prayer story books for me to read, and we say our prayers together every night before bed. A while ago, when he was teething and upset, I grabbed a holy card from my teaching supplies and handed it to him (a picture of Jesus with a lamb). Wombat loved it and insisted on putting it in the toy-pocket I have sewn on his bed bumper. The other morning, when I went in to get him up, I found him lying quietly singing and talking to this picture ;) He particularly likes the prayer: "Jesus, tender shepherd, hear me. Bless thy little lamb tonight. Through the darkness, be thou near me. Watch my sleep till morning light." As a result, I felt quite justified in telling him Rufous had gone to heaven. (As a teenager, I spent several weeks researching and preparing a paper designed to prove to one of my teachers that animals DID go to heaven. I never convinced her... but she never managed to convince me that they didn't!)

Anyway, that is all a sidetrack and I have to get back to studying. I will get Yeti to bury Rufous later while I keep Wombat occupied, and then we will plant a nice rosebush for him.

Where am I?

Hi all,

I do hope no-one is feeling snobbed by me at the moment - I would dearly love to be spending more time reading blogs and working on my other projects... it's just that I have time for nothing but Wombat & study. This final course is the most intensive I have ever done - in 15 years of uni! Perhaps you will think better of me if I tell you I am reading & summarising around 400 pages a day - and they have to be good summaries, because I will need them in open-book exams come November... and that I also have at least one assignment every week, often more. ARRRGH!

I am writing this now at 5am while waiting for the kettle to boil for my tea - I have bought myself a vibrating alarm clock so I can wake myself without disturbing Wombat...

I was planning to start work at 4am, which will give me 2 1/2 to 3 hours before he wakes up... but he of course woke for his 4am comfort feed & it took nearly an hour to get him back to sleep - I can feel activity in his gums where the molars are starting to erupt, so it's only going to get more difficult over the next year. Good thing I like a challenge ;)

In case you were wondering about how we were getting along, I did manage to improve his mood. I decided he had outgrown several of our routines, so I moved the change table and his baby bath out of our bedroom & into storage, and transformed the bedroom floor for him, with a proper space for his potty and a lot of play room... I change him on our bed, and he now showers with me in the mornings, which is perhaps not the most efficient method of getting clean, as he refuses to be put down, but is otherwise an idea he is perfectly happy with. He has also moved to eating more 'adult' food - and has decided he absolutely loves corn-on-the-cob, and has to have it for every dinner along with his other veggies (he mainly eats the carrot) and a little bit of meat. I used to chop his veggies into little bite-sized squares, but now he likes to have them the same way we do, and pick them up to bite bits off. If there is no corn, though, he acts like he isn't hungry, and we go to the opposite extreme - I mash everything up together and feed it to him with a spoon ;P I'm not complaining, because he eats well at other meals, and at least he is happy to eat his vegetables one way or the other! Mashed, I usually manage to sneak some greens in as well - he really prefers orange or yellow vegetables, and only has little tastes of the others if he is feeding himself.

Ah well, the kettle is well and truly boiled now... time to get my cuppa and get to work. If I don't get the time to comment on your entries for a while - or write my own, I do hope you will think of me & smile, studying half the night, feeding chickens half the day...

they have settled in really well - and I finally got a good shot of Rufous's gorgeous tail to show the colour I love...

We have even had a few lovely little eggs...

Taking our lunch scraps out to them is a highlight of Wombat's day...

along with being dragged around on his cornpopper the rest of the time! (It seems Cornpoppers weren't meant for rural driving - the front numberplate gets bogged down every time the grass gets even a little bit bumpy - the cord helps by lifting the front over the grass tufts, and Wombat loves being towed around the garden to pick flowers...

He's walking very well on his own now, but does still need to have his hand held most of the time - especially when he's tired...

CHOOKS!!!

For years and years and years - in fact, the fifteen years I have been living here, I have wanted to keep chickens. I just never seemed to get around to it, and there always seemed to be too many insurmountable hurdles. Well, the time for waiting is over! Wombat and I went out on Friday and bought home 8 lovely Rhode Island Red Bantams.


It was perfect timing, as the woman with the chooks had just had an argument with her husband about having too many chickens. She originally wanted $20 per chook, but when I said I wanted the Reds, she decided I could have the whole pen for $100. She had taken them from an old guy who had to move into the city when his wife died, and was looking after them for his sake, but wasn't really interested in breeding with them.


They are EXACTLY what I wanted, so I am very pleased - a gorgeous plump, solid Bantam, with rich russetty feathers, and black tails with a green sheen. They are a bit shell-shocked to find themselves in a hugely overgrown, full-of-weeds, ex-dog-pen, which is about 4 times the size of their previous home, but they are loving the chance to eat & scratch around in all the greenery as the pen they came from was all dirt.


Wombat thinks they are wonderful, and I would spend all day sitting watching them if I didn't have so many other things on my list... I can't wait until we get nest boxes set up for their eggs! Rosie laid the first egg last night, but she was up on the perch at the time, so it fell on the ground and broke... still, an egg is an egg, and I am very proud of her!

This is the most common view of them I get at the moment! They are starting to make tracks and trails through the long grass, and it won't be long before they overcome their shyness.



I am sure I will get better photos over time, but these will give you a rough idea!




We had to have a chook called Rosie, because Wombat loves the book: Rosie's Walk. You can see Rosie and the chicks behind the tree. The other one on the left, I think is Ruby... more about her later...

Rosie is a real "mother hen". I'm not sure if the three younger chooks we got are all hers (there are two young roosters and one young hen) but she looks after them beautifully, keeping them together and making sure they get enough to eat. On the first night, Yeti was convinced I had only got 7 chooks because he couldn't find number 8 when he went to check them during the night... we worked out that the smallest chook sleeps cuddled up so deep under Rosie's wing that he can't be seen! Rosie and the three chicks tend to form one little group.

Then there is Rufous and his harem. Rufous is a wonderful family man - the girls (and young ones) all hide in the background while he boldly checks out any new situation, and when he is sure it is safe, he calls them to join him. He is always at the front, looking out for all the others.



I think he is the handsomest rooster I've ever seen! I haven't heard him crow yet, but I'm sure he will when he settles in.





If Rosie is Rufous's number one wife, Ruby is the leader of the harem and chief concubine. She's a real show off - the total opposite of Rosie! Where Rosie hangs back and keeps the chicks safe until Rufous calls, Ruby runs after him at the first opportunity... she's always second to do anything, and always proving she can do it better than anyone else!

Last night Yeti built a roost for them... Rufous jumped up, followed by Ruby, and then the other 2 hens. The young hen flies like a champion - the best flyer of the bunch - and she was soon up there with them, but the young boys couldn't quite manage the jump. Rosie stayed and encouraged them, showing them how it was done, and Yeti threw a couple of old cushions in for them to jump off, to give them a boost(he had built a ramp, but they wouldn't use it, so he will build a half-way step today). When everyone was finally settled on the perch, what did Ruby do? She jumped up to balance on top of the sheet metal Yeti had put up to shelter them from the wind! There she was swaying back and forth clucking "Look at me Rufous! Look at me! Nya Nya all you others, bet you can't do this!!!"

Lol... I'll name the others in time, but I am waiting for their personalities to emerge, and to get a better idea of who is who! At the moment, Rufous is easy; Rosie is the hen who stays with the chicks; and Ruby is the plump show-off. The chicks are easy to tell apart and will probably get names next - 2 boys and 1 girl - followed by the other 2 hens...

Wombat is just waking up, so I don't have time to proofread this - sorry for any mistakes - and sorry for going on about my new pets, but if you can't tell, they make me feel all warm and fuzzy-feathery!