Last man standing

Lenny (formerly known as Helen) is the last remaining member from the failed 2012 Operation Chicken at the Nichols Homestead.

As Monica so aptly said (on the day of the first chicken killing in the backyard), "There's just one chicken clucking about the yard."

There he is in all of his roostery glory, spying on the humans.

He even managed to escape the winter of slow death at the Bon Terre farm that took out Angus (the other rooster) and most of my mom's hens over the winter. I blame Rocky the watch dog who has to sleep in the house because he likes to bark all night-- leaving the chickens unprotected from raccoons, coyotes, and other predators.

Somehow Lenny stands strong. And he does have one hen to keep him company.

Hopefully he survives the next big event when the chicken killing bitches move to said Bon Terre farm in 3 weeks.

Good luck Lenny, you're going to need it.

The End

On Monday night, I was out watering the chickens. Refilled their food for the week. Checked on the coop. The usual. Then I left for a few days up north with a bunch of my friends early on Tuesday morning. As I was getting ready on Tuesday morning, I let the dogs out to do their business (as I do every morning), fed them, and headed out. Nothing out of the ordinary except that I was heading out of town for a few days instead of to the office.

My roommate Leslie arrived home at the end of the work day and let the dogs out, same as always. Except it wasn’t. There was squawking almost immediately. And a dead chicken almost as quickly. She ran outside to see Buck (visiting dog) taking a bite out of Marigold, as Maggie and Suzie left Edna’s already dead carcass to come help. Leslie  screamed for the dogs who dropped the chicken and went inside as instructed.  I got a panicked phone call up north full of apologies and the bad news. Okay. I don’t understand how they had time to rip a corner of the chicken wire (2 layers) open in the 10 minutes they were out in the morning. But clearly it was enough for the chickens to escape and be free ranging in the yard when Leslie got home and let the dogs out. Epic chicken fail. Sigh. I told her to pick up the bodies and put them in the outside trash which would be going out in a day or two anyway. And of course, apologized repeatedly that the tragedy happened on her watch and assured her that it wasn’t her fault. Such is life.

An hour later I listened to one of the funniest voicemails ever. One of the chickens wasn’t all the way dead. And as Leslie went to scoop up the carcass, it fluttered and flew up into her face, causing much panic and dropping of the other dead chicken. And now the neighbors were out in the yard. Awesome.  Her brave fiancé arrived on the scene, covered the hole in the coop with plywood, and helped move the mostly dead chicken into the now-secure coop and the all-the-way-dead-chicken to the dumpster. Rest in peace Edna.

I called my mom who agreed to go pick up said mostly-dead-chicken to either provide chicken hospice or nursing care, whichever was required. And mostly to save my very flustered roommate from further dealings with a mostly-dead-chicken in my absence. As the story goes, my mom got Marigold home and into the solitary confinement coop at her house. Gave her food and water. And the next morning went out to find poor Marigold on her back, legs sticking straight into the air, dead. Rest in peace Marigold.

So… the two roosters were the lone survivors of this failed chicken project. They are running around happily at my parents fertilizing hens to their hearts content and grossing out my 16 year old brother.

In case you’re counting:

• Dogs: 4
• Nature: 2 (roosters not hens)
• Reenie: 0

Operation Chicken 2012: Epic Fail

Angst and Angus

Angst: I’ve alluded to the war with the neighbors without getting into details… and I’ll still try to keep it brief.  You probably remember me putting up a privacy fence a couple months back so I could at least garden without an audience. Since that time, the neighbor has been rather hostile. Awesome. I certainly didn’t want to start a war, but putting up that fence was necessary because of him!! Anyway, a few weeks back I get a letter in the mail from the landlords (these people bought the house last summer as a rental- they’ve never lived there and aren’t any relation to the people who used to own the house). Anyway, the landlord was passing on a complaint that there was a “foul stench” coming from my chicken coop. They wrote that they didn’t want there to be conflict between neighbors and that though I am allowed to have chickens, I am not allowed to have a foul stench so there should be some sort of agreement between us, blah blah blah. The best line was the “We’ve received reports that you voluntarily cleaned the coop recently which we appreciate….” The whole letter was obviously an effort by the landlords to try to address the complaint from their neighbor but instead just proved what a jerk the neighbor is and the whole thing was unfounded. There is no “foul stench!”  I’m so paranoid about a foul stench because I hate the smell of chickens myself!! I even had both of my roommates and a few friends go do the sniff test—no foul stench. This guy is simply a jerk, pissed about the fence, and trying to cause trouble however he can. Awesome.

I waited a couple days to cool off and then sent them a scathing direct three page letter telling them why the complaint happened (privacy fence angst), why I put up the fence, and my list of complaints about their tenants. I tried to keep it reasonable—I left out the strangeness of the grown man walking RC cars for hours every day—but I gave them a piece of my mind over the profanity, the music, the cigarette butts in my garden, the intrusiveness of the neighbor, the middle of the night yelling fights, etc. I agreed that I would move the coop further from the shared fence and asked what they intended to do about the many complaints I have with their tenants. I also reassured them that I wanted to come to some peaceful resolution and would be happy to discuss the matter by phone if they wanted. I had a couple people give me feedback before sending it. And after reading it, Jenny predicted the landlord wouldn’t respond at all since I’d laid out quite a case against their tenants. 

Three weeks later… no response from the landlord. And nothing has really changed with the neighbors. I still woke up to the sound of the neighbor’s incredibly loud music coming through the wall at 8.30 on a Sunday morning. There’s still a ridiculous amount of swearing and profane music on the other side of my fence. And the guy is still a creep.

In light of this war, however, the chicken situation is more sensitive. Like He-Len crowing loudly at 6.00 am! Roosters are now allowed in the city limits because of the crowing. I get it. Once it was clear He-Len was a rooster and had found his voice, he had to go and there was more urgency considering it would give the neighbors a legitimate complaint.

Angus: Formerly known as Agnes. Just a couple days after we’d removed the noisy He-Len from the Chicken Shack, Leslie heard an attempted crow in the backyard. Now Angus and He-Len were the same kind of chicken (I had started with two of each kind). And compared to He-Len, Angus looked like a hen. Bigger than the other two hens, but considerably smaller than He-Len. Since I hadn’t heard anything, I did eye Angus carefully and notice his tail feathers were starting to come in. Darn. So much for “sexed” chicks that were all supposed to be hens.

Tuesday morning I woke up at the usual time (6 am) and suddenly heard some loud, awkward crowing from the backyard. Angus was finding (or attempting to find) his voice. Clearly a rooster. And it was time for him to go. Tuesday evening, with the help of my roommates, I herded Angus into a box and delivered him to my mom’s chicken haven in the country, where he can crow to his little hearts content.

And then there were two…

In case you’re counting, the breakdown looks something like this.

• 6 chicks to start with (all supposedly hens)
• 2 killed by the dogs- too early to determine sex
• 2 roosters – both removed and sent to live at my parents’
• 2 alleged hens – remaining at the Homestead. Hopefully these ones are really hens and will lay some darn good eggs to make it all worthwhile.

This whole Operation Chicken continues to be quite an adventure!

Mistaken Identity

I am pretty sure Helen is actually He-Len.  Yeah. I thought it was a little strange when I got the three chickens back from my mom after the Chicken Slaughter at the Homestead and my one remaining chicken looked noticeably larger. They were all the same age. My parents were feeding the chicks at their place the same thing I was feeding mine. ??

In the last week, I’ve been getting progressively more suspicious and though I haven’t heard an actually “cock a doodle doo” out of him, I’m pretty sure Helen is a rooster. He’s a lot bigger than the other three and his comb is three times as big. Here’s Helen, Agnes, and Edna.  See what I mean?

I can’t keep a rooster in the city (though they allow chickens, they do not allow roosters). So unless my mom wants a rooster, I think He-Len will spend the next few weeks out there with the hens and then we’ll eat him. And in the meantime, we’ve nicked named He-Len just plain Lenny. It just seemed right.

Rest in Peace Frances & Geraldine

It was a sad, though not entirely unexpected day at the Nichols Homestead. Earlier in the day, I had gone out to the chicken coop to give them a handful of weeds. All three of them were enjoying their new roost and as I opened the top, they fluttered up a bit and I saw that the roost put them closer to the roof, and as they have gotten bigger, it occurred to me that they may be able to escape out the top. Hmmm. I should remember to latch the top, just in case. I tossed them a bunch of weeds, closed the top, and was going for a second round of weeds, thinking I would latch the top after I delivered the next round. Instead I got distracted, but something, anything. And forgot all about the latch. 

The roof has been known to blow open if it isn’t latched and it was kind of gusty today. As I was driving home this evening, I listened to a voicemail from Andrea saying that she was coming to get Buck. Okay. Then I got a phone call from her. “Reenie, where are you?”  “I’m a few minutes from home, where are you?”  The tone in her voice alarmed me. I hoped Suzie hadn’t run out in the street and gotten hit by a car or something tragic. Nope.

Andrea had broken in (hidden key) and let all three dogs out in the yard (just as I would have done). A minute or two later, the neighbor came over. She tried to explain that she was legit, not breaking and entering, and he said that the dogs were f-ing killing the chickens. What??? Apparently his son was in the backyard and saw it all going down (thanks to that privacy fence they couldn’t see it from their spot in the carport).

She ran out back and saw that, indeed, two chickens had met their untimely end. I showed up minutes later and surveyed the yard. Andrea kept apologizing for any part Buck may have played. But it was all too clear. Three chickens were in the yard, three dogs ran out there, and only two chickens died. Buck is in the clear. Maggie and Suzie clearly ran out and each quickly took out a chicken. Frances and Geraldine were the unlucky poultry, while Agnes somehow managed to escape certain death (let’s be honest, Buck didn’t know what to do).
 
Andrea quickly rounded the dogs into the house, as the one remaining chicken “was just clucking about the yard” as her 3 year old daughter Monica kept saying. “Just one chicken clucking about the yard.”

The top had indeed blown open. The chickens had clearly flown the coop. Monica and Andrea helped me herd Agnes into the coop (harder than you would think) and I apologized repeatedly that it happened to my poor friend. What are the odds?? 

After they left, I cleaned up the remains (quite clean actually, no blood, just quick death by shaking). Jenny arrived home shortly thereafter and I broke the news to her.

Operation Chicken suffered a staggering setback today. But we will rise again. And as Monica repeated at least a dozen times “There’s still one chicken clucking about the coop.” 

Day 7–Friday

Happy Memorial Day weekend one and all!  It is another gorgeous day!! I’m so tempted to go out and finish my garden and stare at my lovely new fence. But I may save that for Sunday and do some other less pleasant chores today.

Buck arrived last night while I was out. He is our weekends and holidays dog. It gets more peaceful every time he comes. This time no one even indicated that they noticed his presence, excellent. I guess after yesterdays excitement with 4 kids visiting all day, Buck is old hat. Buck does not appreciate the neighbor walking his remote control car though. He also thinks it is rather disturbing to see a full grown man spending so many hours on the RC cars (I told you he fits right in around here).

This evening my cousin Nick gets married. Crazy. I used to babysit that sweet guy and now he’s getting married! Yikes. So happy for him. And happy for an excuse to hang out with my extended family. I love that crowd.

The fence is awesome. Even from the backyard, it makes it feel private because there is no longer a direct line of sight from the carport to the chicken coop. Actually, there is no direct line of sight from the carport to anywhere in my yard. AWESOME. I do feel like I’ve been given a new lease on life.

Okay, on to some projects / progress today…

Chicken coop alterations: Clean out the outdoor area. Add roosting bar to outdoor area. Hang water and food dishes (to minimize the crapping into them). Yell at Maggie to stop eating all the chicken droppings I raked out of the coop (dogs are so gross).

Chickens are ridiculously stupid critters. I hung their water dish and they couldn’t figure out for a full 8 minutes how to drink out of it. Same waterer, just 5 inches off the ground now. So they settled for all racing after the water I spilled. Eventually Frances figured it out and the others followed suite.  Also, Frances is the one obsessed with roosting (now that Edna lives with my mom). I kept finding her roosting atop the feeder (eww) and the waterer (more ewww).  I put in a nice roosting bar for them in the outside area and she immediately figured out what that was for. Excellent. The chickens are becoming more accustomed to the sound of my voice and they get excited to see me now since I usually mean fresh water or some sort of weedy treat. They are also less intimidated by the dogs and actually acted as though they planned to just strut out the door when I opened it today. Not necessarily a good thing since strutting out that door would mean certain death by canine. I should probably research how to entice chickens into nesting boxes next, but I have a few weeks to figure that out. And a couple minor alterations to the nesting boxes too. Again, I’ve got time to do that later.

 

Suddenly it is HOT outside. Gorgeous but hot. I might break down and sand that drywall mud. And I should water stuff outside. And figure out what to wear to this wedding. And…

Dogs vs. Chickens

Dogs 1, Chickens 1, Farmer 1

Apparently at some point in the last day or two, the dogs had enough time in the yard to rip off one layer of chicken wire in one corner of the coop (point for the dogs). Clearly there had been some serious scratching to damage the wood and rip the staples out in order to free the chicken wire. Sigh. Not sure who the culprit was so I yelled at both. And restapled the chicken wire more securely. And congratulated myself on being so smart as to add a second layer of chicken wire in the first place (point for Reenie).

The chickens get a point because they live their happy chicken existence in spite of the two excited black dogs who keep trying to get in.

Oh Edna

Edna does this a lot these days:

The dogs do this a lot… well actually in a still photo, this just looks interested, in real time there is a lot more whining, barking, howling, jumping, trying to get into the crate.

And Edna just stares them down. 

Ghetto coop

Today I had a morning with some buddies so we got up ridiculously early, played, decided it was too cold for morning coop alterations, so we ran some errands instead.

 

After they left, I attached the old Habitat Restore cabinet to the chicken coop to make nesting boxes. I think it’s going to work as I had hoped. I still need to put some dividers on the inside and figure out what kind of latch will keep the doors securely closed. But we’re a step closer!!

I have also been checking the paint mis-tint sections for some good exterior paint. The only ones I’ve seen so far were dark gray, so unexciting. I want something colorful for the chicken shack so I’ll have to keep scoping the mis-tint aisles.

I took these photos once I connected the nesting box cupboards and had to laugh. It looks SO ghetto!! But I’m hoping once I put the finishing touches on and paint the whole thing one uniform color, it won’t look quite so ghetto… I guess that remains to be seen. 

The Coop

So… there’s some work to do in Chickenland… half of the roof needs new hinges and to be reconnected.

You can see the nesting box holes from the inside – need to build nesting boxes… Or attach the old cabinet I got from the Habitat Restore which can become nesting boxes (or I like it in theory anyway).

The door to the coop needs a latch (a very sturdy latch) and I’m thinking I should put a second, very secure layer of chicken wire over everything since the dogs will be attempting to make it into the coop. 

One thing I will not need to do: Put it on skis because, if you look closely, why yes! It is already on skis (apparently to make it easier to move around?) and the skis even have chickens on them!

So there you have it. My $35 used craigslist coop in need of some renovations to make way for it’s new inhabitants.

Chicken Update

Here's the basics... we're going on a week and a half with poultry in the dining room. I moved them to a larger bin, which didn't have high enough sides and Edna kept jumping up onto the sides. So I got an even larger bin, with higher sides... and Edna is now jumping up onto the side to roost.

There are a few dilemmas with the jumping up on the side: 1) It drives the dogs absolutely insane. Maggie spent ALL DAY Sunday whining and howling about Edna and the jumping and perching. By the end of a long day of that, I begin questioning my own sanity.  2) I'm worried Edna will forget to hop back into the bin and get stuck on the floor of the crate, between the bin and the sides, making the dogs even more insane and cutting herself off from food/water/company of other chickens for a day while I'm at work. 3) When my sister in law saw the jumping to the side of the bin, she realized it wouldn't work to have them at their house (perfectly understandable). So the chickens will remain in the Homestead dining room until they are ready to move outside.

The chicks have at least doubled in size. They were probably a week old when we got them from TSC on Holy Saturday. So they are probably 2.5 weeks old (ish). As is always the case, chicks in the house are cute for a bit, and then begin smelling like poultry and kicking up a lot of dust, convincing you that poultry belongs in a coop and not in the dining room. I'm almost there. Of course, it is cold outside and they aren't big enough... but I am definitely going to do some coop repairs this weekend and maybe try to move them out there with their heat lamp.  

Other dilemmas: Chicks are friendlier chickens when handled a lot while they are tiny. It is too exciting (complicated, dangerous, overwhelming) to do a lot of chicken handling because of the dogs. So I talk to them "Hello chickies" and they all peep back. And they are growing very accustomed to the sound of whining, growling, barking. I'm not sure this will make them smarter in the long run, but it is the reality of life at the Homestead.

Also, it is going to be tough to decide which chicks to pass along to my mom. Edna is the trouble maker in the bunch and I'm thinking we could let her go to the Cous farm where she can jump on things and roost in trees to her little chicken heart's content. Although she does liven things up a bit around here. I think she enjoys jumping up there just to freak the dogs out.  And admittedly, I decided to take a picture from the dog’s point of view… and it is a little freaky…

I like Frances and Marigold the best- they are Isa Browns and the cute yellow chicks.  We're keeping those two. And one or two of the black ones (there are two kinds of black ones --can't remember what type-- but all four look the same).

Stay tuned for a tour of the coop in it's current state... just so you can compare it to the coop once I make the repairs... :)

The Adventure Begins

Operation Chicken at the Nichols Homestead got it’s official kick off on Holy Saturday when all three of us who live in the house hopped in the CRV and headed for Tractor Supply. My plan was to get 3 or 4 chicks. But TSC had a 6-chick minimum. So we left with 6 and will donate the extra survivors to my parents chicken supply (to which I owe a few replacements anyway).  Or if you want a couple chickens, call me. I will have a couple to donate.

 

Anyway, we went to TSC and left with food, pine shavings, chicks, and a lamp. I set them up initially in the recycle bin, because it was handy and available. Brought the second dog crate up from the basement and secured the chicks behind bars. Jenny is working on names for them. The dogs are going nuts.

I realize it really isn’t fair, having these smelly, tasty morsels so close and so tempting but out of reach. Not fair at all.

Alas, the chicks will go live at my brother’s house to be loved and handled often by his children before coming back to reside full time in the Homestead Chicken Shack, which needs a few repairs and a thorough check to be sure it is quite dog proof.

In the meantime, we’ve got poultry in the dining room folks. And the adventure continues…

Dirt as therapy

I like it when science proves what I already know: Dirt is good for you. Today is a good therapy day. I slept in late. Drank coffee and unloaded the dishwasher. And have spent a couple hours outside in the garden. Lots of work left, but I've got the front beds cleared of leaves, debris, and a bunch of grass poking up. Everything is poking out of the dirt- even the stuff that is usually much later in the season. I suppose everything is thrilled with this 70 degree weather and just assumes it is time. Sigh of contentment. I LOVE SPRING!!

Today the first of my hyacinths are blooming and the forsythia is beginning to bloom. I LOVE IT! The crocuses have been blooming for a couple weeks now and continue. The tulips and daffodils are tall but not in bloom yet. All of the bushes have buds growing. I love spring! It makes me feel so alive!

On another note, the neighbors... the girl across the street (there are two little girls who used to just keep to themselves but now that Elijah is around, they spend a lot of time together and more time in the street than they used to). Anyway, the girl who looks to be around 8 asked if she could shoot hoops on my basketball hoop. Of course, no problem. Moments later Elijah was over as well. And then dad yelling to Elijah (across me basically since I was in my front flower bed) to see if he had asked to use it and to not hit my car. Eye roll. Then there was some altercation I was trying to ignore that resulted in a lot of yelling in the house- dad at Elijah. Then a kid from a few blocks over came by to ask if Elijah could go to the park-no. Then more yelling at Elijah. Sigh. People, your windows and doors are open, the whole neighborhood doesn't need to hear it. And the lady on her hands and knees in the garden was really hoping for some peace and quiet while digging in the dirt!

Still waiting for me- the dreaded winter clean up of the backyard. Not my favorite task, but it must happen. And if I do that today, tomorrow I can plant lettuce and spinach (sabbath appropriate tasks-- no matter how you slice it, I can't justify dog clean up as not work).

Also, a previous coworker of mine stopped in yesterday to drop off some stuff. He has a dozen 4' Rose of Sharon bushes that keep cropping up in his yard and I had mentioned that I want a hedge between my vegetable garden and my dear neighbors. So he offered to have me come pick them up in the next week or two! Imagine that! A nice 4' hedge of Rose of Sharon bushes hiding my garden from the world and giving me at least some semblance of privacy for my therapy haven. I may also see if I can scavenge some forsythia shoots from people so I can intersperse them.

Last but not least, my brother Brendan gave me a chicken kit for Christmas -- feeders, an egg holder, a gift card to buy the supplies and chicks, and the promise of a Saturday when he'd come over with Geno (and their tools) and we'd get my old craigslist coop into working order. I'm kind of excited and kind of wondering if I am insane for even considering a couple backyard chickens... it is probably insane... stay tuned. This may indeed be the year for Operation Chicken at the Nichols Homestead.

Happy St. Patrick's day friends! And Happy Spring!